The Pushover

I’m…kind of an asshole.

Just wanted to get that out of the way. I know it, my mom knows it. My friends know it. My ex-girlfriends definitely know it. Now, you know it.

It’s not that I want to be an asshole, it’s just kind of how it is. I make no apologies. I am what I am, and know no other way of living my life.

My name is Dylan. I’m an only child with a single Mom who wasn’t much of disciplinarian, so I learned early on how to get my way. Whether it be toys when I was little, or money and a car when I was older, I knew exactly which buttons to push to get what I wanted. I also had what I’d call a talent, for lack of a better word, for sniffing out the weak-willed. Weak-minded.

You know the type.

People who would not, or just plain could not stand up for themselves. I couldn’t understand the concept of going through life that way. It’s as alien to me as, well…an alien.

The first day of senior year, Human Biology class.

It makes me smile, just thinking about it. Thinking about her, and how a single urge on that one day changed my life.

Serendipity?

I don’t know. I’m not very smart, but I think that’s the word.