Chapter Text
The whole thing started, as most things do, with boredom and a shared air of adolescent cruelty. Word travelled fast, a malicious whisper skipping from table to table in the cafeteria until it landed, fully formed and dripping with judgment, in the boys' locker room.
The "list," as it was immediately dubbed, was a messy, handwritten artifact allegedly compiled by a cabinette of the most popular (and most ruthless) junior girls. It ranked every boy in the tenth grade based on their perceived "hotness," a metric that was frustratingly vague and entirely dependent on the girls' hormone levels and current mood.
Drew heard about it during P.E. from Liam, who was alternating between an annoyed groan and a hopeful twitch.
"Did you hear?" Liam whispered, adjusting his basketball shorts. "The List. It's real, man. Henry just saw Zoey and Lia giggling over it near the vending machines."
Drew, tying his sneakers with deliberate slowness, rolled his eyes. "Who cares? It's cheap gossip. You guys act like they're handing out Nobel Prizes for symmetrical faces."
"Easy for you to say," Henry piped up, still a bit red-faced from a quick locker search for his hat. "You're obviously going to be number one, Drew. You always are."
Drew shrugged, a practised motion that feigned indifference while secretly acknowledging the truth. Of course, he was at the top. He had the looks, the brains, and the confidence that came with all that. It was a given.
"I'm not even on it," Liam lamented, running a hand over his hair. "But Jake is. I heard he's in the top five, maybe even the top three."
Drew paused mid-knot. He looked up, his expression hardening. "Jake? Since when is Jake a contender? He was nothing but your average guy last year if I hadn’t picked him up."
"Apparently, the whole 'extroverted nice guy' thing is selling," Henry offered, sounding defeated. "And he's been helping out for the soccer team, hasn't he? He looks... bigger."
A wave of irrational annoyance washed over Drew. It wasn't about the ranking; it was about Jake's sudden relevance in Drew's domain. Their friendship was built on an unspoken hierarchy, and Jake was stepping out of line. I mean, yeah, he’s been maturing– they all have. But having girls oggle his best friend was an uncomfortable concept. Ew.
"It doesn't matter," Drew scoffed, standing up. "It's a piece of trash written by basic girls with no taste. Focus on passing Geometry, not on whether Lia thinks your jawline is ‘sharp’, Henry."
But even as he dismissed it, the seed of competitive resentment had been planted. Drew didn't need validation from a list, but he sure as hell didn't need Jake getting it either, especially not for something as shallow and effortless as existing. He doesn’t even have to try– and his social credit comes from being friends with Drew. That's what’s infuriating.
The list, initially confined to whispered gossip in the cafeteria, achieved legendary status when news of the top three positions finally leaked. Zoey, in a moment of calculated indiscretion, snapped a photo of the original, messy handwritten artifact—which had been brazenly taped to a wall in the girls’ restroom—and posted it to her exclusive "close friends" story (with 80+ members). From there, it spread like wildfire. The digital version pinged across student phones for a frantic hour before Miss Jones, alerted to the looming spectre of cyberbullying, tore down the physical copy and issued a stern, school-wide warning about online harassment.
Later that afternoon, near the vending machines, Drew caught an actual glimpse of the screenshot list on someone's phone before it was hastily pocketed. His eyes scanned the hierarchy, hand-written scribbles of comments confirming what he already knew.
Ugh.. whatever. Lame.