I wondered if he realized "boy" was no longer applicable to most of the males he was speaking of or if he might be a pedophile at heart. "I was just returning the orange he dropped," I said. "I'm sure there are plenty of witnesses who will back me up."
Mr. Barnes chuckled. "I don't know 'bout you, son, but I'd put more stock in red-blooded all–American athletes like Nathan than the table of devil worshipers you've fallen into league with."
With considerable effort, I kept my mouth shut. "Would you like me to apologize to Nathan for returning his orange? He dropped it quite some distance because it landed in my friend's mashed potatoes."
"How 'bout you hold your tongue, boy," Mr. Barnes said.
At any moment, I expected him to tell me to squeal like a pig.
Mr. Perkins leaned back in his chair and rested his arms atop the hard knot of condensed fat he called a stomach. "I don't see much other recourse but to suspend you for three days or give you a week of after-school suspension. I suspect that suspending you will only give you free license to wreak your havoc upon society in general, which would reflect poorly on our fine institution. Therefore, I'm going to hand you over to Marjorie Foreman."
Ms. Foreman? I blanched. I knew this because my face felt like it had been splashed with ice water. "I didn't do anything. Nathan threw an orange at us. His own friend hit him in the face." The desperation in my voice sounded pathetic.
He smiled. "I'm sure that's the story you'd have us believe. Unfortunately, it simply does not hold much water with either of us."
My jaw tightened. "Maybe if I join the football team then everything I do will hold water with you."
"Well, now, boy, I think you just earned your little devil-worshipping girlfriend a week of after-school suspension with you. Does that sound about right, Ted?"
Mr. Barnes nodded, his eyes overflowing with malicious glee. I felt my non-violent resolve crumbling. I wanted so badly to beat the ever-loving crap out of these useless slags that it hurt. Rage boiled deep inside the pit of my stomach. But I couldn't act out my fantasies. For one thing, I really would go to jail or be an outlaw and any semblance of a normal life would go with it. So I kept my mouth shut while they gloated and had their fun. Super-strength or not, there wasn't a thing I could do and it sucked.
Chapter 12
Crye sat in the waiting area, her face grim as I left Mr. Perkin's office. "Thanks so much for getting me after-school jail," she said.
"How did you know they suspended you? They just told me."
"Yeah, well Barnes and Jerkins told me I was getting detention for using my feminine wiles and encouraging you to commit an act of violence."
"That's a load of crap," I said. What I'd said to the principal hadn't mattered. Those lying bastards planned to give her detention no matter what. I almost turned around to pummel the two of them. Instead, I grabbed Crye's hand and dragged her through the hallway and out the front doors of the school.
She shook her hand loose. "If you could just keep your mouth shut, things would go a lot more smoothly for all of us. Nathan and his goons came over to the table and threatened Nyte and Ash after you left. He said they'd hold them down and pull out their piercings with pliers."
"You've got to be kidding me. And these are the smacktards our upper brass will do anything to protect?" I managed a growl of sorts, although it sounded more like indigestion.
"That's right, Justin. Get mad. Go crazy. So far it's helped out a lot."
I turned on her. "What do you want me to do?" I yelled. "Let them throw apples at your head and oranges at our table and make fun of us? Is that what you enjoy? Does it make it easier to cut yourself with razor blades at night so you feel better?" I turned to walk away then rounded on her again. "I hate feeling like crap. I hate seeing them do this kind of thing to you, Elyssa, because despite all the effort you go through to cover yourself up with this Goth mask, I think you're someone special."
Tears welled in her huge eyes and tracked mascara down her white-powdered face. It looked horribly gruesome but it wrenched at my heart. She shook her head slowly, then turned and walked away.
The rest of the day was a numb blur. People made cruel comments about me and my friends. At least a couple of nerds with balls of steel approached and congratulated me on doing something about Nathan. Mark and Harry passed me in the hallway with new girlfriends and gave me withering looks of hatred. It didn't matter what I did or what superpowers I possessed, I was a pariah.
To make matters worse, the hot languid vapors from every female I saw distracted me constantly. Thankfully, the lust factor wasn't out of control like it had been with Victoria. So long as I could keep myself from latching onto the sexually-charged wisps, I wasn't in imminent danger of making out with random girls. I wondered if losing my virginity would put a stop to the merciless, simmering desire radiating from my groin or if it would only make things worse. I found myself quoting the Princess Bride over and over again to remind myself true love was worth waiting for.
The Punisher, aka Ms. Foreman, awaited us in her room after school. She was a short, sweet-looking black woman with oversized glasses and an absent-minded aura about her. In other words, my worst nightmare. That little façade of hers masked the true nature of the demonic beast lurking beneath. I'd made the mistake of crossing her my sophomore year in English by making some smart remark about her glasses. She hadn't even sent me to the principal's office, but gave me a motherly smile and an after-school detention cleaning out toilets, scarring me for life.
Crye entered the room a moment later. Ms. Foreman looked her up and down. "Well, now. This just won't do, will it?" she said, condescension thick in her words. "I can't have you assisting me with all that dangerous jewelry." She reached into her desk and pulled out a plastic bag which she handed to Crye. "Now you just put away all that jewelry and scrub that horrible makeup off your face. Don't you worry, now. I'll give young Mr. Case some busywork until you get back."
The busy work consisted of taking chalkboard cleaner and, starting with her chalkboard, going to each and every class, spraying them with the noxious stuff, and wiping them down until they sparkled. Five rooms later, I felt light-headed and slightly nauseous. Crye joined me in classroom six. I expected her to scowl or shout at me. Instead, she ignored me and that hurt even worse.
We cleaned several chalkboards like this until I couldn't take it anymore. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said. Just say something to me. Please."
She took the chalkboard eraser she was holding and hit me in the head with it.
"Ouch!"
She nodded in satisfaction. "Now that we have that settled, thanks."
I rubbed my head. "Seriously? You bonk me on the head and then thank me?" Girls are insane.
"For being my friend and standing up for me. I'm sorry it makes me angry when you fly off the handle and do something stupid without thinking it through."
"That makes total sense," I said. "You're thanking me for something that ticks you off. Argh!"
"Do I hear talking?" said Ms. Foreman's voice from somewhere in the hall. She poked her head in the door. "Now, now, children. No talking during detention."
We nodded. She smiled sweet as a razor-laced caramel apple and vanished into the hallway. I looked back at Elyssa. She looked so much better without all the makeup and piercings. I hated the name Crye. From now on, even if she beat me for it, I'd call her Elyssa.
The next day was much the same. I endured hurtful commentary from the peanut gallery and then spent the afternoon with Elyssa and Ms. Foreman. Despite the ban on talking, Elyssa and I still managed to whisper and communicate with ridiculous hand signals, causing bouts of silent spasms as we desperately tried to hold in our laughter. Elyssa only hit me once after I started calling her by her real name, but she dressed normally for school since Ms. Foreman told her she'd have to do so until suspension was done.
"Why don't you dress like this all the time?" I asked, admiring her pink T-shirt and dark jeans as we cleaned and dusted the trophy cases in the front hallway.
"Because I hate looking like all the other idiots in this place. Besides, it's fun to play dress up. I love steampunk and elegant old dresses."
"And hiding behind a gob of white makeup?"
She shrugged. "I'm not hiding behind anything. Plus, Phuc and Harvey are great guys. They're not pushovers like most of the sheep in this school."
I raised an eyebrow. "Those are Nyte and Ash's real names?" I held back a snort of laughter because I heard footsteps coming down the hall.
Ms. Foreman ran a white glove across the cases we'd cleaned. "I'm afraid you missed some spots, dears." She cast a disdainful look around the room. "I think you should probably do this case over from top to bottom just to be on the safe side."
We groaned. She smiled in the same saccharin-sweet way she always did when handing out punishments and walked back down to her classroom at the far end of the hallway.
I found an ancient trophy in the shape of a woman whose breasts were uneven and chunky. She also had the misfortune of a beehive hairdo. I handed it to Elyssa. "You win the prize for most misshapen boobs of anyone to attend this school."
She examined the horrifically designed trophy. One breast was twice as large as the other and hung lower. The plaque which was supposed to display who'd won it and why had long since vanished.
Elyssa launched into a silent giggling fit. I fought against my own urge to burst into laughter. The more we looked at it and each other, the more we hacked and wheezed with silent laughter. Elyssa held one of her breasts higher than the other and crossed her eyes. I laughed out loud. She put her hand over my mouth and gave me a mild dose of brain damage from the cleanser fumes coming off it.
I looked into those violet sparklers of hers and felt a piece of life's little puzzle snap into place. I really liked this girl. In fact, I liked her better than anyone else I could think of. She was smart, funny, and those eyes of hers, big, bright, and burning, captivated me. Katie Johnson faded to distant memory. She was nothing compared to Elyssa.