Not Just Another Day

"C'mon!" My best, and only, friend, Cooper, says, taking a drag of his cigarette. "You know you want to."
"Yeah man, but I can't!" I reply.
"Yeah you can. C'mon, dude. The worst she can do is say no, right?" He says as he passes it to me.
"It's not like I even have a chance with her, Cooper." I say as I breathe the smoke in, then out slowly. "Lesli's the most popular girl in the entire school. And she probably already has a boyfriend! I don't want to humiliate myself even more!"
"Not like you can, you loser." He says, playfully punching me in the arm. I know he's kidding, but it still hurts.
"Don't call me that." I say.
His face softens from a playful, mischievous grin to a concerned sideways glance. He used to be such a bully. And of course, being the easy target, I was his favorite kid to pick on. But then in high school, something changed. He stopped being such a d^ck and started being really nice to me. All his friends quit hanging out with him since he started hanging out with me, but he didn't seem to care.
"A'ight," he says, taking the cigarette from my outstretched hand. "Tell you what. If she says no, you can punch me as hard as you can in the face, okay?"
"Fine," I say, hopping off of the rock and strolling toward Lesli. She stands with her back up against a pale-green lamp post, smoking a joint.
"Um...H-hi L-Les-Lesli." I stutter. Great. Just when I finally get the nerve to talk to the girl I really like, my stutter acts up again.
"Hi." She says flatly, exhaling smoke.
"Um... um... I was.... I was wondering if....i-if..."
"I'm not gonna be your girlfriend, Quentin." She says, taking another drag of her joint. "You're cute and all, but no, okay dude? Just.... no." She says, pushing her dirty blond hair out of her eyes dark, chocolate brown eyes.
"Uh... ok." I say like a retard.
I slowly walk back to Cooper, like a dog with his tail between his legs. I stop in front of Coop and punch him as hard as I can straight in the nose.
He takes a step back, then says, "Dude, I told you to punch me as hard as you can!" As he shakes his long, curly brown hair out of his face.
"I did." I say in a small voice, pushing my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose.
"Oh..." he says, flicking the cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it with his heel.
"I told you she'd-" I start, then feel a huge pressure on my back and fall to the ground.
"Da f#ck you doing talkin to my girl, you little sh^t? Huh?" I hear a deep, scratchy voice from behind me.
I roll onto my back and see Drake standing over me, his leather jacket flapping in the wind and his short black hair sticking up so messily it has to be on purpose.
"I ashed you a kreshtun!" He yells down to me in his slurred voice.
"Hey," Cooper says from behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. As Drake turns, Cooper draws back his arm and punches Drake as hard as he can in his square jaw. Drake falls to the ground and Cooper kneels down on top of him, pinning Drake's arms to his chest with his legs.
"I told you not to f#ck with my friend!" He says with another two punches.
Cooper stands up and kicks Drake, hard, in the ribs, saying, "Don'tchu ever f#cking come near Quentin again, Drake, ya got dat?"
He kicks him again, then helps me up and I follow him to his car, a matte-black, beat-up '67 Impala.
"Thanks." I say for the millionth time as I climb into the passenger seat.
"Don't mention it." He says, sliding through the window and behind the wheel, already with another cigarette in his mouth.
"You didn't have to do that, you know." I say as he starts up the car with a vvvvrroom
"I know. But somebody's gotta show my little brother who's boss, right?"