Joey P wasn’t really paying attention to the speech from the principal. He was much more focused on the business at hand — in this case, Joey P was carefully trying to roll a coin between his knuckles. It wasn’t like the principal was going to say anything [i]he’d[/i] be interested in. Joey didn’t care about football helmets, or the budget, or the home ec class… none of that was really his thing. He’d do it, but that was only because if he didn’t, his poor mother would get arrested for [i]his [/i]truancy. Like, how was that even fair? She didn’t do the crime, so why did she have to do the time!

He didn’t understand the American justice system, but then… did anyone? By law, corporations were people — thanks, Citizens United. It was almost like… the system was designed to not make any sense, to make it harder for the average person to get ahead…

[color=#dff15d]“Whoa, I did it.” [/color]Joey mused, all thought about the justice system leaving his mind as he began to find a rhythm, rolling the coin back and forth across his knuckles. This wasn’t even that hard — the power of YouTube video tutorials made everything so easy… — but it was still pretty cool! Joey P would stick that skill in his back pocket until he needed it next.

It was gonna come up, right?

When the speech was finally over, and the students were finally allowed to leave, Joey P was one of the last ones out. Sure, everyone else was in a rush, but he learned a long time ago that this whole ‘school’ thing would go a lot more smoothly if you just chilled and took it low and slow. There was no reason to overwork yourself! They’d spend the next like, forty or fifty years working, why would he [i]start[/i] working hard [i]already?[/i]

With a quick glance at his phone, Joey wandered into the halls with a single question burning in the back of his mind: why did everyone seem to think that the football team was a bunch of jackasses? They were pretty much all nice, as far as he knew. Except maybe Ricky. Ricky was questionable, at times. Stuffing his phone in his pocket,