A DAY IN THE LIFE

            I broke up with Josh about three months ago now, since just before the summer break.  In the eyes of this 8th grader, that’s a long time.  However, to someone old, like my mom (she’s in her 40’s), that’s about three days.  Anyway, you’d think he would have gotten over it by now.  Although, once you get to know me, I am kind of irresistible. Well, right now I look like a freak.  Over the summer, I had a little, okay, a big growth spurt and I am now the tallest person in the Jr. High aside from the teachers.  Not only did I get my dad’s big ol’ feet, I’m getting his height too, which would be fine if I were a boy.  Gee.  Thanks, Dad.  My hair shoulder length dirty-blond hair literally looks dirty since it feels greasy no matter how times I wash it. And I just got braces.  Pretty attractive, huh?  Thank God, I only have to wear my headgear at night.  Before the growth spurt, I was considered thin, now I’m downright skinny. If you didn’t know me, you’d swear I was anorexic.  I eat.  A lot.  Believe me and no, I don’t throw it up.  That’s just gross.  Besides I like food way too much to waste it like that.  Hmmm, you’d think Josh would be glad to be rid of me.

I guess it doesn’t help that I started going out with Les over the summer.  Les and I have been friends for a couple of years and decided to try the “going out” thing.  Les has always had more girlfriends than he’s had guy friends.  Actually, come to think of, I don’t think he has any guy friends.  He also dresses like a lawyer on casual Fridays and wears pastel color Polo shirts.  His sandy brown hair is always perfect and his hazel eyes are brought out by just about any color he has on.  He’s constantly getting accused of being gay.  No, he doesn’t talk with a lisp.  He’s quick to give a stabbing reply whenever he’s getting picked on, but I think that makes it worse.

That must be Josh’s problem.  I dumped him for a “gay” guy.  Everyday that Josh has seen me these past couple of weeks he says “Hey, Jen, what’s it like going out with a faggot?” or something stupid like that.  I’m a firm believer in the “Ignore it and it will go away philosophy”.  Les; however, is not.  He’s downright evil.  He told Josh last week “Your Mom’s boyfriend called.  He wants you to come home.  He forgot to have you suck his dick last night.”  I don’t where he comes up with this stuff.  Josh has just been giving us the evil eye since then.

            My problem is Les isn’t here today and I have been dreading seeing that curly black mop of Josh’s in the halls today.  Josh was held back in 7th grade so, thankfully, I don’t have any classes with him.  Homeroom for 7th grade is on the 3rd floor and 8th grade is on the 2nd floor, which is where I’m headed now.   I just had the final class of the day.  All I need to do is make up the stairs, to my locker, then homeroom and I’m home fr...

            “Hey, Jen.”

            The hair stuck out on the back of my neck and I almost froze there at the bottom of the stairs.  Oh, God.  Just keep walking.  Ignore him.  He’s not worth it.

            “Jen, where’s your little faggot boyfriend today?”

            Can’t he come up with something original?

            “Since your boyfriend’s a faggot that must make you a lesbian, right?” Josh emphasized his words with a shove to my back.

            Heat rushed to my cheeks before I could try to control it.  He pushed me.  That asshole actually pushed me.

            We reached the landing at the top of the stairs.  I turned around and said “Just leave me alone already, Josh.”

            “Why, what are you gonna do about it?” he said, shoving me in the shoulder with just his index and middle finger.

            I went to punch him in the stomach, saw that he tried to protect himself, and punched him right in the mouth!  Blood started streaming out of his mouth and Josh scooped it up in his palm as he brought his hand to mouth, looking at me in shocked disbelief.  The expression on his face mirrored mine.  With my notebook still clutched in my left hand, I abruptly turned and walked away.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a teacher, Mr. Green, standing at the doorway to his classroom.

            Had he been there the whole time?  Did he see what happened?  He’s looking right at me!  Why did it have to be Mr. Greene?  He’s the worst.  Why not Mr. Searcy?  Oh God, I’m going to get suspended and my mother is going to kill me.

            I kept my head down the rest of the way to my locker.  My hands shook so badly that it took all my concentration to dial the correct combination and open my locker.  I stood behind the cover of the locker door for a minute after grabbing my jacket when I noticed my hand was bleeding.  The skin had been ripped from my knuckles, looking like a cheese grater ran over them.

            Geez, how hard did I hit him?

            I peered through the slots on the locker to try and see if Mr. Greene was still standing outside his classroom, but couldn’t really tell.  I draped my jacket over my hand and headed to homeroom.  Still no Mr. Greene.  I sat down and waited for the 1st bell to ring for students who took the bus; me.  An eternity passed as I waited more for my name to be announced over the loud speaker, asking me to report to the office.  The bell rang and I made my voyage to the bus.  My sister, Denise, was already seated and her eyes green eyes sparkled like emeralds when she saw me.  I actually forgot that Denise has homeroom with Michael.

            Denise pulled me down in the seat next to her.

            “Did you really hit Josh?” she didn’t wait for me to answer, “You gave a bloody lip and knocked his tooth loose!”

            My eyes bulged out and I couldn’t speak.

            “Do you know what he was saying?” Denise went on to say, “He said he was going to get his buddies in high school to beat you up!”

            We exchanged a knowing look and burst out laughing.

            Well, Josh, never bothered me again and people pointed me out the next few days or so as The Girl Who Hit Josh Hayes.  Actually, no-one ever bother me again.  Now, I’m not condoning violence, but I guess sometimes it pays to stand up for yourself.