Kevin Spade
I was in the locker room trying to plead with Mr. Kazaminski. If I don’t stay after school everyday for the rest of the year, I’m going to fail gym class. I know I shouldn’t have skipped so much, but if you were the only junior in a class with Warren Boyd, you would too. It probably would have been different if I was into sports. Instead, I was the butt of every joke and the target of every “misthrown” ball. I’ve been hit in the nuts more times in this class than in my whole life. I skipped the most during baseball, because Warren isn’t the team’s star player for his looks. He can aim.
It got to a point when I didn’t even bother to defend myself. Sometimes I tried to fight back, but that made things worse. Once, I made a comment about Warren’s crusty face. Him and Ben Tramer kept me in the locker room after everyone left and shoved me in a locker. Neither Mr. Kazaminski or Mr. Field had classes that period, so I was trapped for twenty minutes before someone found me. I’m claustrophobic as it is, and when Louis Thompson found me, I was crying and my hands were bloody from beating them against the locker. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. Warren and Ben each got an afternoon in detention.
It was kind of hard to work out a deal with Mr. Kazaminski, because he likes Warren, and he wouldn’t listen to my excuses. He told me that if I had a problem with someone, I should tell a teacher. Yeah, like that won’t get my ass kicked even more. I took the easy way out instead, and didn’t go to class.
Terry Buchman is walking by as I come out of the locker room. It’s kind of funny, because John Parker was just in there talking about how he had sex with her a couple weeks ago. I stop and talk to her for a couple minutes. She tells me how she was just up in the cafeteria and Mr. Henry started yelling at that Grim Reaper kid. She tells me that the kid started throwing a fit and yelling about Jim Smitt hitting him with mustard. I don’t know who is more frightening, Jim Smitt or that Death kid and his punk friends. I’ve heard some stuff those punk kids talk about, and it’s gross! I’ve heard them going on about heads getting hacked off and people being eaten by zombies. It’s awful! If I didn’t hate Jim Smitt so much, I’d say that kid deserved it.
I have chemistry this period, so I go upstairs to Mr. Holowinski’s room. I pass by Nick Caufield, who lives down the street from me. Our parents are good friends, so he leaves me alone for the most part. Last year, Nick’s sister got murdered. He and Mindy were really close, and it messed him up a lot when she died. At the funeral, it was the only time I ever saw Nick cry. It was after that when he became a real jerk. He used to give people a hard time, but now he’s just mean. I wave to him, but don’t stop to talk, because he doesn’t usually talk to me in school.
I go into class and sit in my assigned seat in the back. Kyle Fannindale is still in the seat in front of me, packing up his backpack to leave.
I was in the locker room trying to plead with Mr. Kazaminski. If I don’t stay after school everyday for the rest of the year, I’m going to fail gym class. I know I shouldn’t have skipped so much, but if you were the only junior in a class with Warren Boyd, you would too. It probably would have been different if I was into sports. Instead, I was the butt of every joke and the target of every “misthrown” ball. I’ve been hit in the nuts more times in this class than in my whole life. I skipped the most during baseball, because Warren isn’t the team’s star player for his looks. He can aim.
It got to a point when I didn’t even bother to defend myself. Sometimes I tried to fight back, but that made things worse. Once, I made a comment about Warren’s crusty face. Him and Ben Tramer kept me in the locker room after everyone left and shoved me in a locker. Neither Mr. Kazaminski or Mr. Field had classes that period, so I was trapped for twenty minutes before someone found me. I’m claustrophobic as it is, and when Louis Thompson found me, I was crying and my hands were bloody from beating them against the locker. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. Warren and Ben each got an afternoon in detention.
It was kind of hard to work out a deal with Mr. Kazaminski, because he likes Warren, and he wouldn’t listen to my excuses. He told me that if I had a problem with someone, I should tell a teacher. Yeah, like that won’t get my ass kicked even more. I took the easy way out instead, and didn’t go to class.
Terry Buchman is walking by as I come out of the locker room. It’s kind of funny, because John Parker was just in there talking about how he had sex with her a couple weeks ago. I stop and talk to her for a couple minutes. She tells me how she was just up in the cafeteria and Mr. Henry started yelling at that Grim Reaper kid. She tells me that the kid started throwing a fit and yelling about Jim Smitt hitting him with mustard. I don’t know who is more frightening, Jim Smitt or that Death kid and his punk friends. I’ve heard some stuff those punk kids talk about, and it’s gross! I’ve heard them going on about heads getting hacked off and people being eaten by zombies. It’s awful! If I didn’t hate Jim Smitt so much, I’d say that kid deserved it.
I have chemistry this period, so I go upstairs to Mr. Holowinski’s room. I pass by Nick Caufield, who lives down the street from me. Our parents are good friends, so he leaves me alone for the most part. Last year, Nick’s sister got murdered. He and Mindy were really close, and it messed him up a lot when she died. At the funeral, it was the only time I ever saw Nick cry. It was after that when he became a real jerk. He used to give people a hard time, but now he’s just mean. I wave to him, but don’t stop to talk, because he doesn’t usually talk to me in school.
I go into class and sit in my assigned seat in the back. Kyle Fannindale is still in the seat in front of me, packing up his backpack to leave.
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