CHAPTER 7 Coming Clean

I have spent more time in front of the mirror this

morning than I have in my entire life. I try to gel it

in the front like Kris Fort, but it just flops down

and looks stupid. I try to achieve the skater hair of

Reggie Daniels, but it’s not long enough. After about

an hour and a half of work I come out of the bathroom

with my hair looking exactly like it does every day,

and my mom has a “talk” with me about what I’ve been

doing in the bathroom. When she finally lets me have a

word, I say, “I was only looking at the new edition of

Playboy Magazine, Mom.” I’m feeling adventurous this

morning.

After another lecture that ends with Dad saying, “Oh.

You were joking,” I pack my stuff and set off to

school. I feel energized, for some reason. I should

feel scared and depressed and maybe a little weepy,

but I don’t. I would even go so far as to say I feel

good!

But I have a hunch that the ride to school will kill

that good feeling. It always does. You know why? Kris

Fort, jerk to the fifth power, is on my bus. He sits

in the back, of course, surrounded by girls, but he

usually finds time to yell a nasty insult in my

direction. Example: “Hey, geek a! How’s your innie?”

He’s not talking about my belly button. We won’t go

into detail as to what an innie actually means in his

language, but I think you can figure it out.

Today when I get on the bus, though, Kris isn’t

sitting in back with the girls. He’s sitting right up

front in my assigned seat (the bus driver has made it

clear that Kris can do anything he wants, even though

he’s constantly making fun of her. Don’t ask me why).

“Hey, Dave,” he says in this sweet tone of voice that

I’ve never heard from him before. “Would you like to

sit next to me? I would be honored.” I have to sit

next to him, of course. I have to sit in my assigned

seat or the driver will give me a detention. Perfect.

I sit down.

The first thing he says sends me reeling. “Dave, I’d

like to say sorry for all the mean things I’ve done to

you. Like, ever.”

Am I on an episode of the Twilight Zone? I rub my eyes

a few times to make sure I’m not dreaming, then turn

to Kris. “What provoked this?” I’m hoping he’ll

understand ‘provoked,’ but alas. He just gazes at me

and grins, like I’ve told a joke. “What caused this?”

I say patiently. “Why are you saying sorry now?”

A look of dawning comprehension crosses his face. He

grins again. Is that all he’s capable of doing?

“Geekster, I’m goin’ out with your friend! I thought

I’d be nice to ya for now, ‘cause you an’ her are

pals!” My first thought is that he’s back to calling

me names, and my second thought is... What did he say?

Because I’m sure it’s not what I think he said.

“You’re going out with who?” Please make me wrong,

please make me wrong.

“Your friend. Montana.”

Whew. I thought he was talking about-

“Georgia. Maybe that’s it. It’s one of those girl

states, but I’m not sure which.”

I am at a loss for words. This isn’t possible. Kris

Fort, star of the basketball team, king of the

populars, and bane of my existence, is going out with

the girl who was, until last night, my best friend.

Kris Fort is not going out with Montana. He’s going

out with Georgia Simms.

When I enter the school building, I am confronted by

at least twenty people who tell me that I’m friends

with Kris’ GF -- not girlfriend, but GF. So what do

you call your boyfriend? BF? Because I thought that

stood for Best Friend (can you tell that I don’t have

Instant Messenger?). I say, ‘Oh, really? That’s

interesting. I didn’t know! I’m only her best friend

(BF?)!” This comeback would have more merit if I

actually was her best friend, but whatever.

And what could have possibly made Georgia like Kris?

She’s always regarded him as a stupid steroid munching

buffoon, and just like that she’s in love with him? It

must have something to do with last night, when I

referred to her as hideous and ugly. Wait a second! I

know! She’s trying to prove to me that she’s not ugly,

that she can get any guy she wants, and that includes

Kris Fort! Well, she’s not doing a very good job of

it. He can’t even get her name straight.

Is she really trying to prove it to me, though? Maybe

she’s just trying to prove it to herself. God, does

that make me feel horrible. I don’t want her to have

to do that! I wish I could just go up to her and say,

“I do think you’re pretty! More than pretty, stunning!

Hot!” But then I would get slowly and brutally

murdered by Reggie and the gang, so I trash the idea.

Now I don’t know what to do. I bet I’ll be

thirty-five, working on the top floor of a big

accounting firm, and the boss will call me into his

office and say, “Bryant, I just received information

saying that you called Kris Fort’s GF ugly. You’re

fired! Or better yet, throw yourself out of that

window over there, you son of a b!”

Is there any way to make up for it? A simple sorry

won’t do, if I know Georgia. But I’m empty on the idea

front. I just spend History, Latin, and Science

writing out my imaginary conversation with Kris Fort.

Here it is:

Dave (walking up to Kris): Hey, geekster, how’s it

going with Georgia?

Kris: Uhh.. Pretty good... Don’t I call you geekster?

Dave: Not anymore, geek a.

Kris: Hey, that’s my word!

Dave: First of all it’s two words, and second, I don’t

give a s.

Kris: That’s not fair! Reggie, East Bishop Bombers,

kill him!

(Kris’ cronies run at Dave with clubs and

switchblades.)

Dave: Say night night, Reggie!

Reggie: Whu- (Dave administers a devastating

roundhouse kick to his face and knocks him

unconscious).

Dave: Heeyah! Oooh, Suzuki Subaru Mitsubishi! Yamaha!

Toshibaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

(Basketball team lunges at Dave. Dave goes into a

frenzied martial arts/Matrix combo, running up walls,

defying gravity, punching and kicking with lightning

speed. All fall at the same time. Dave smiles.)

Dave: I guess it’s just you and me, Kris!

Basketball Goon: Uuuhhh... I’m still... standing.....

(Dave kicks him in the neck. He drops like a stone.)

Dave: Now it’s just you and me, Kris.

Kris (falls to knees): Please, Dave, don’t hurt me!

I’m too handsome!

Dave: If you let me have Georgia, I’ll set you free.

Kris (extracts device): HA! If I press this button,

she is electrocuted! (Screaming noise from nearby

closet: Help! Help!)

Dave: Georgia, I’ll save you! (slow-mo: Dave heaves

himself forward. Kris goes for button. Dave slams into

him, device goes flying. Kris dives for it, but Dave

is faster and snatches it up, pressing Deactivate.)

Dave (freeing Georgia from closet): That’ll teach you

to mess with Dave Bryant, scum!

Kris (on the floor): Please don’t kill me! Please!

Wahaaaaaah!

Dave: I’ll spare you this time, cretin. But next time

you won’t be so lucky.

Georgia: Oh, Dave, I love you! Kiss me!

The End

I sit back in my chair. If you can’t beat them, write

about beating them! It’s really gratifying.

But then that wears off, and I just sit there feeling

lonely. The loneliest I’ve ever felt. I may be in a

room full of students, but when I look over at Kris

and Georgia and Lillian and Reggie (they’re all in my

Science class... Georgia and I used to joke about

them, but now she’s over there too), the rest of the

kids don’t matter. All I see is them. Them and her,

and there is a distinct difference between the two.

Them I don’t like. Her I am in love with. But there’s

nothing I can do! Absolutely noth-

The intercom squawks to life. “Would Dave Bryant

please report to the auditorium, Dave Bryant. I will

come back on in ten minutes to call down classes to

the persuasive speech. Thank you.” Wait a second... My

persuasive speech! With all the Kris/ Georgia stuff I

forgot! This is great! I know what I have to do!

“Yes!”

“Very enthusiastic, aren’t we, Dave?” Says Ms. Lords,

my science teacher. “You may go.” The class snickers,

and I hear Georgia making a forced laugh. Stupid,

Dave, stupid! Don’t ruin it now. I stand up. Oh, crap.

Do I have my speech? I rummage around in my pockets

and quickly realize that I left it on the bus. But

what good would it do, anyway? Today’s events call for

a very different speech. A very different speech. Ms.

Lords brings me back to reality. “You may go, Dave.

Now!” Yeesh. I can see that she isn’t very happy with

me, so maybe I should leave before she uses Reggie as

a weapon.

When I reach the auditorium I find a very frazzled Mr.

Yin, who has been waiting with baited breath for my

arrival. “Where have you been?” He hisses, his eyes

wide. “You go on in ten minutes!”

“I’m here now,” I mutter, sitting on the edge of the

stage. “No worries.”

“NO WORRIES?” What is this, Yell at Dave Day? “MANY

WORRIES! What are you going to do for your speech?”

I can’t tell Yin what I’m really doing, because he

wouldn’t let me. So I lie for the second time in a

week, and probably my life. “Um.. global warming. I

saw the Day After Tomorrow, so that kind of sparked my

interest.” The funny thing is, I did see the Day After

Tomorrow. Or part of it. That was the one that I went

to with Lillian and walked out of after three minutes.

“Great.” He seems relieved. I don’t like lying. “The

kids are coming now. You better get backstage.” I do

as he says. But once I’m behind the curtain I’m

shaking like a.... well, I’m shaking a lot. What am I

going to say? I bet I’ll get up there, stutter, say

something stupid, and get down for fear of punishment.

Gosh, Dave, mind being a little more optimistic? You

aren’t really helping here!

I hear clapping. Peeking from behind the curtain, I

see Mr. Yin step up to the mic. “Silence,” He says,

and everyone shuts up. You don’t mess with Mr. Yin

(I’ve already messed with Mr. Yin when I said my

speech was about global warming. Fantastic). “You are

not missing class today because we had a spurt of

kindness, and decided to let you off easy. You are

missing class because a very special student will be

talking about a very important subject. Global

warming. Dave, please come on stage.”

I step out, nervous as hell. The bright lights in my

eyes do some good, making it hard to see the hordes of

teenagers in the audience who are already falling

asleep, but I know they’re out there. Vicious is the

word. Just waiting to break out in riotous laughter

when I do something dumb, or even do something smart.

When I do anything, really.

“... so without further ado, Dave Bryant!” There’s a

smattering of applause. I walk up to the microphone.

“Um... hi.” About ten people snicker nastily. I

chuckle along with them, trying to pretend we’re in

this together. Yes, Dave Bryant and the pack of

hungry, drooling hyenas, all one big happy family... I

feel myself shaking, and a tremor goes up my body.

Bang bang bang, go those stupid, unreliable knees, and

I start to think that it’s really not too late to back

out. I mean, c’mon, all I have to do is run offstage,

escape Yin and his drama groupies, steal some food

from the cafeteria, grab my stuff from my locker,

hijack a bike from the bike rack, and start my life on

the lam. Maybe I’ll move to Canada. Yeah, everyone’s

nice in Canada. Heck, they keep their doors unlocked,

confident that no one will steal anything from their

house. Canadians are just too nice. And anyway, they

don’t need extra money. They make enough at the maple

syrup mill! Maybe they’d even let me become a mountie!

Yeah...

“Da-ave....” Yin hisses. I wish he could talk to me

without hissing, because it’s really unsettling. A

simple “Come on back to reality” would suffice. But

no, he has to hiss. He might as well grab a pitchfork

and grow some horns, just to complete his

transformation.

I mouth a “sorry” in his direction, and lean into the

mic. “As Mr. Yin said, I am hear to talk to you

about... er, global warming.” I glance at the Satan

Reincarnate. He’s apparently stopped worrying, and

gone back to biting his fingernails. Time to start the

real speech. “But don’t doze off just yet! Global

warming can wait!” The audience, which has indeed

started to doze off, cracks their eyes open. This is a

first. All my other speeches have been like sleeping

pills to the crowd, but now they’re sort of listening.

I clear my throat. “Well, um, bear with me, because

I’m making this up as I go along. Er... My dad has

told me countless times that, though I may not know

it, I will find the right girl one day. He says that

maybe the one I like now is not that right girl, but I

think-”

“Bryant...” El Diablo is using my last name now. That

means he’s angry. My mind quickly flashes to an image

of me, shoveling coal into the scorching fires of Hell

while Yin sits behind me on his throne, prodding me

with a pitchfork and cackling mercilessly. I shake it

off and try to recover with style.

“As I was saying, I think that global warming needs to

be stopped. I mean, don’t we see what we’re doing?

Some scientists seem to shake it off as futuristic

jargon, but...” I check on Yin, who, with one of his

signature glares, has gone back to nail-biting. “...

But I think she really is the one, y’know, the right

girl. I’ve known her for a while, and she’s always

been there for me. Not to sound cliched, but yeah.

Even when I liked Lillian Porter...” Much laughter.

“Oh, you can laugh, but every guy in this school would

go out with her, and for one reason... she’s hot.”

Even more laughter, but this time it comes off as kind

of self concious from the guys’ side. I smile, knowing

that I’ve hit a nerve. “I-” I shoot a look at Yin, and

get a glare- “I think that it’s imperative to continue

to preserve the few sanctuaries we have left, rather

than continuing to log and depleting what’s left of

our oxygen source.” I look again. Back to nail biting.

“But even when I liked her, this girl helped me out in

my dumb attempt to get her back, even though she knew

it was dumb. So last night I made up my mind that I

would try to make it up to this girl, because you know

what? I screwed up, badly. And because of that, the

right girl is going out with the wrong guy, and for

the wrong reasons. Well, maybe...”

“Bryant!” comes Mr. Yin’s bellow from backstage.

“That’s enough! Get off my stage, and get into my

office! Now!”

Oh, no. I whip around to face Yin, whose face is

purple and whose veins are popping out of his neck.

Reverting to the global warming schpeel won’t save me

this time. Desperate, I yank the mic out of the holder

and dash to the other side of the podium, the cord

quickly running out of slack. “Maybe you really like

him, and in that case, I’m-” Yin, fists balled, is

closing in- “I’m happy for you! But otherwise...

You...” Yin is feet away. The audience is growing

restless, and I yell over the din, but I don’t even

know what I’m saying. Yin screams for the kids to go

back to class, and everyone stands up and makes for

the double doors out of the auditorium. It’s chaos. My

eyes flash over the mob, trying to pick her out

amongst the sardine box of people. Is that her...

“BRYANT, YOU ARE COMING WITH ME!” yells Yin, almost on

top of me. I toss the mic and leap off the stage.

Where is she, where is she...

“Dave! Dave!” Her voice is the best thing I’ve heard

all day (God, I can’t stop with those cliches, huh?).

I turn around to see her struggling against the

people, trying to make her way back. I shove through

the mob, and suddenly she’s right there in front of

me.

“Georgia, I’m sorry!” I yell.

“I forgive you!” She yells back, as we’re shoved

around by the crowd. “Almost!”

“Almost?’ I yell/ask, raising my eyebrow.

“Yeah!” She answers, and I hear Yin coming behind me.

“But you’re still buying lunch!”

“Lunch?” I ask, as Yin sidles up to me, enraged

(“You’re coming with me! Double detention, and we’ll

see what your parents have to say!”).

She nods, just as Kris Fort grabs her arm. “C’mon,

Utah! Let’s go!”

She rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you go lift weights, or

something?” Kris bares his teeth, flashes me a rude

gesture, and disappears into the crowd. She turns back

to me as she starts being pushed away. “We’ll do lunch

after your detention, okay?”

I nod, trying to fight off the urge to jump for joy.

“So does this mean we’re... going out?” I ask, trying

not to sound too hopeful.

“Don’t push your luck!” she yells, almost out of

sight. But the smile on her face tells the real story.

Yes! I’ve got a... a GF! And... and she’s hott! With

two T’s! This is the best day of my life. Even as Yin

carts me away to his office, I can’t help but smile.