Chipper

A burst of wind greeted me as I pushed open the heavy metal door. I stepped outside, my eyes adjusting to the increase in brightness. Before me stretched the wide concrete roof, it's edges enclosed by a tall metal fence. The sounds of the city around me mixed with the whoosh of the wind, triggering a sense of minor imbalance in me.

A few meters ahead of me stood the new transfer student. He was looking out the fence while smoking a cigarette. I walked towards the fence, maintaining a small distance from him.

This was my favorite spot in the school, the only place where I truly felt at peace. Even though it was restricted to students, I sneaked in here during every break I got. Despite the effort, there was nothing I did here- I just stood and felt.

The transfer student had noticed my footsteps, and was looking at me, an indifferent expression on his face. A few seconds of blank staring later, he finally decided to speak.

"Cigarette?"

"N-No thanks. I don't smoke."

"Why not? You one of those quote-on-quote "good" kids? Come on, it's just one cigarette, it won't do nothing."

"No, i-it's fine."

"Damn, you really are the goody-two-shoes teacher's pet kind, huh? You even got the stutter and everything."

"W-well, if being conscious enough to refuse a drug that kills millions of people every year makes me a "goody-two-shoes," then uh... Guess I'm guilty as charged."

He looked at me for a long while without speaking a word. When he finally decided to speak, it was a question.

"Say, what's your name?"

"Axel Voss."

"Axel... Voss... Well, I gotta admit, it does roll off the tongue quite easily."

"Yeah, I-I get that a lot."

His face suddenly twisted to an irritated expression.

"You don't do this a lot, do you?"

"Uh..?"

"Ask a question already, dammit! You're putting all the pressure on me to continue the conversation. Here, let me enlighten you. A conversation should be like a tennis match. I hit a ball, which means a question or an opener, into your court and you hit it back with a suitable answer that demands a reply, and if the conversation is stagnating, a question. Simple, right? Stop stopping all the balls and swing your racquet already! Go, give it a try."

I took a moment to process this.

"Okay... Uh... I told you my name. What's yours?"

"Good! You're getting it already. I go by the name 'Chipper.'"

"Chipper? That's a strange name."

"Swing, Axel, swing!"

I swung my racquet.

He swung back, moving the ball to my court.

I swung it back, my power slowly increasing as I got comfortable with it.

We swung racquets until the school bell rang, signaling the end of the break. This may sound corny, but that was how I made my first friend.

A Few Days Later

Me and Chipper were standing outside the door of my house, staring at it's ugly grey exterior. It was a few hours after school, and the sun was just beginning to set in the sky.

"Well, this ain't the prettiest of houses but hey- if the interior's good, who cares, right?"

"You're s-setting yourself up for disappointment."

I opened the front door, and we walked into the dark interior of my house. I quickly moved towards the light switch and turned it on, revealing a depressing-looking abode. The furniture looked old and dated, and paint was peeling off the walls in some spots. The air carried a faint musty odor- probably from the old wooden furniture. Chipper just looked around, his expression unchanging.

"I don't wanna offend you so I'm not gonna say anything."

"Thank you very much," I replied with a sigh.

I moved past my father's altar towards the staircase, motioning Chipper to follow. We went upstairs and entered my room- the cleanest room in the house, although furnished very simply- A bed, computer table and a bean bag. Stacks of seinen manga were piled up in the corner.

"Well, it's not the worst room I've seen."

"You've seen worse?"

"I've lived in worse."

Chipper walked up to my computer table and sat on the rigid chair, turning on my PC.

"What, y-you wanna play something?"

"Nope, I just wanna browse the internet."

After turning on the computer, I saw him open up my browser. But suddenly, instead of browsing in the search bar, he moved the mouse pointer to the settings menu, and clicked on 'Search History.'

"The hell are you doing?" I said, moving towards the computer.

"Browsing," he replied, scrolling through my search history.

That was when he saw it.

"Ok, here we go. Ehem. Lesbian catfight, best friends turned lovers, lesbian MILF's... Wait, why are you watching lesbian porn?"

"Why, i-is that weird?"

"You a girl or something? Why don't you watch regular stuff? You don't wanna see a woman get pounded?"

"N-nah, it's just I don't wanna see a random dude's genitalia when I'm watching this stuff. Just the girls. And as for your last question, that's exactly why strap-ons exist."

"You don't wanna see a random dude? Bro, the whole point of porn is that you imagine yourself in that dude's shoes, put yourself in his place. It's called self-insertion. When you watch this stuff, you are the dude. But instead, you watch lesbian shit. Tell me, what do you think of when watching it?"

"I don't know, I, uh, think of banging the women, I guess?"

"So you're imagining yourself banging them? That's an even greater use of imagination than imagining you're the guy! Man, I don't get it. Why is it harder for you to imagine yourself in the guy's place than imagining banging two lesbian girls when they aren't even getting pounded by a man in the frame?"

"Like I said, I don't know, man. It just doesn't work for me that way."

"Hold on. Don't tell me..."

"What?"

"Is the issue maybe a difference in size?"

"Huh? No, uh, I'm a respectable length. But wait, why the hell are we even having this conversation right now? You came here because you said you wanted to discuss something, right? Cut to the point."

He looked at me for a few seconds before sighing.

"Fine... I'll tell you. But first, you haven't heard any strange rumors or stories in school lately, have you?"

"No, uh, nothing of the sort."

"Okay. I guess I'll have to explain it to you then. Tell me Axel, do you know what an Urban Legend is?"