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Oliver strolled into the building, feeling like he was the top of the world, particularly because of his clothing.

He was sporting a cherry-red leather jacket, blue skinny jeans with a silver chain dangling from one of the belt loops, and white tennis shoes with black on the toe and heel. On the sides of tennis shoes were bright ruby lipstick imprints.

The best part, though, was his shirt.

It was a plain white t-shirt, but upon it, in big, bold, black lettering, and capitals, were the words, 'LIKES BOYS'. Beneath the words was a magenta-colored heart.

He was being stared at as he walked down the hallway, he could tell. Quite frankly, he didn't care. This was his favorite shirt, and he planned on wearing it.

As he approached his locker and began to enter the combination, he saw a very bulky figure in a football jersey approach him.

"Nice shirt, Princess."

Oliver didn't look away from his lock. "Blake..."

"Why don't you wear a skirt, too?" The muscled teenager jeered.

"They don't flatter my figure very well," He replied simply.

Blake shoved Oliver backward, "Bein' a smart guy now, huh?"

Regaining his balance, Oliver gave a smile coated with saccharin and strychnine. "Well..." He looked Blake up and down. "Unlike you, I've always been one, in case you haven't noticed."

"You want to start with me, Miller?" He pushed Oliver again.

Not appearing phased, Oliver shrugged and walked around Blake, back to his locker.

"Come on, Olivia, I can take down a queer any day of the week," Blake challenged.

Oliver chuckled, "Is that it?"

The taller boy looked confused.

Turning, Oliver walked toward Blake, "Is this why you constantly pick on me? Hm? Because I'm different?"

Blake began walking away backwards, "Don't get close to me, Miller!"

Oliver raised an eyebrow, "What's the matter, Blake? Are you scared?"

He gave a forced laugh, "Scared? Why would I be-?"

He cut Blake off. "Scared because I'm not like you?" Oliver was walking closer now. "Scared because I'm not afraid to be who I am?"

Blake tried to regain his tough demeanor. "Back off before I hurt you, Miller!"

Oliver stopped walking, and just stood, one hand on his extended hip. "Listen up, jock-boy, I don't care what you do or say, I'm not scared, unlike you." His free hand was making gestures as he spoke. "You can do whatever you like, I'm not changing. This is who I am." Taking both of his hands, he pulled either side of his jacket all the way open revealing his entire shirt.

"Yeah, well...Nobody likes you throwing your fairy dust everywhere," Blake sneered.

"Ha, ha," Oliver replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Look, what you see is what you get. I'm not going around being someone I'm not. You don't have to like me, but you don't have to go around hating me either."

Blake just stared at him.

Sighing, Oliver crossed his arms, using his, 'speaking with a five-year old voice.' "I'll use small words so you can understand. This is me, whether you like it or not." He leaned close and gave a cocky smile. "Get used to it."

"You're such a-!" Blake began to yell, but he was cut off by Oliver.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some books to get." Turning on his heel, Oliver called back over his shoulder, "Have fun with your Justin Bieber albums!"

Blake has turned a shade of blood-red. How the heck did he know?!

As everyone around him began to buzz with the newfound gossip, Blake saw Oliver, without turning around, reach up into the air with one hand and give him the popular, 'Z-Snap'.

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