Chapter 1:

Ok, thinking back on this now I should have seen this coming, no really, I should of but I didn't. So, I'm going to start off by saying It's never too late to change, but don't push it. Everybody's got a point in their life to 'change' but if you think you are ready now then boy, are you wrong. I'll tell you this: It's just like Karma you'll never know when it hits you, but it hits you like a horses kick to the nuts. For girls… it's like Twilight.

I was in my 8th period, 7th grade Literature, I had no idea what was going on, as usual, but I put on my poker face a toughed it through it like a visit to the dentist. We got new seating arrangements ever month and today as it turns out was the first day of the month so we got our seating arrangement through a number in the bucket on the teacher's desk. This is the 6th time I've sat right here by the door. We were all talking loudly because that's how it is with a sub and the sub wasn't here yet. My table was where I liked it, closest to the door so I could be the first one out, naturally. No matter how any class is arranged there is always one closets to the door, the best seat in the house.

As you know there are three types of substitutes One: The-I-don't-care-what-you-do-just-make-sure-the-other-classes-don't-hear-you, Two: I'm-your-sub-now-here's-your-work-go-do-it, and Three: the-even-though-I'm-just-your-sub-you-will-regard-me-as-your-teacher-or-I-will-give-you-an-F.

Guess who we had?

I personally like to welcome substitutes in my own little personal way and this time I wanted it be explosive. I walked up to the teacher's desk and switch my proudest creation: My pen bomb with the other pen near it so when he clicks the pen to writes with it...KA-BAM! I had it all ready. The door opened and I went quickly back to my seat putting the book I was reading since winter on top of it considering it was about the end of May, It was pretty bad but hey, not everyone's a fast reader. Who I assumed walked in was the sub. He was incredibly tall and was the kind of fat that made him look strong. His hands were big enough to hold basketballs in each. He walked to the front of the classroom, and with every loud step of his enormous black dress shoes the room got quieter and quieter until it was only noise of his footsteps. Kind of like when Dark Vader walks in to meet Luke and Leia. Once he got to the front of the class he grabbed a piece of chalk and started to write on the board. As he wrote the chalk screamed as he smeared it across the board. He stepped away from the board, what was written on the board was his name.

Mr. Unis.

He turned around and half of the class flinched when they saw his face. His face was wide and flat, his ears were small with the right one having a hunk taken out like Alexander Holyfield, as he looked across the room both of his eyes didn't quite meet up, and his jaw jutted out like an under evolved ape.

"Now," Mr. Unis's voice was low and boomed against the back of the classroom. "Who can tell me what book you were last reading and where did you left off?"

No one spoke.

"Well then, you in the back," He said almost curiously, "Would you like to tell me what you kids were reading?" As he spoke he looked at all of the other kids as if he wasn't focusing on me whoop-dee-do me and my dumb luck.

I was sure of the kind of substitute he was. He thought I was a stupid kid that didn't pay attention and fell asleep in class. I got to admit he wasn't wrong, but he's an ass for thinking it. "Ah?" I processed the sentence, "No."

He looked back me. "No, not an option." He said simply, and then went back to examining the class.

Wow this guy's annoying, I thought. "Well then Mr. Anus, we were reading The Foot Book." I said smugly.

A couple of people laughed.

He stopped scanning everyone immediately and starred daggers at me. "It's Unis. Unis, am I clear?"

"Well, why's it say Anus on the board?" I shot back immediately.

I hadn't noticed until now, but his one eye was always off. It must've been a fake one. He starred with such rage I began to wonder what he would do. He didn't act right as a substitute, time for plan A.

"Sir," I said that as if I actually respected him, "I'm dyslexic. I'm pretty sure that's not my fault, maybe you like to use your pen on the table to write down the book were reading for me?" I stated honestly raising my hands in defense.

"I can vouch for that." My favorite familiar voice said from the side of the room. Nicolas Bush raised his hand coming to my defense. My partner in crime. He had greasy brown hair to the top of his back, with a smooth rounded nose and a wide grin; he wore his Nike shirt with the bullet hole in the stomach we found in the trash'The Ultimate Tag Team Champions of Detroit', as it's called by the two of us. Mr. Unis face was red as a police siren.

Mr. Anus grumbled "Fine." He said finally.

He reached for my pen we both smiled at each other as grabbed a sheet of paper and clicked the pen a two seconds after Mr. Anus was covered with black ink and the class exploded with laughter.

"Welcome to Jr. High ...sir." I said totally poker faced.

I had him on edge I saw another outburst and we'd not have to learn about Huckleberry Finn. I crossed my hands as if I were interested. "So were you a Janitor before this?" I asked irritatingly.

"What is your name, student?" I sat back up in my chair wow, that's the first time I've been called a student.

"Um," I was still wondering about the student comment, "It's Ben Dover." Clever.

He, about the looks of it was going to say more my I was saved by the door the door behind me open. I turned around to see who was there an amazing surprise a new girl walked in. I knew she wasn't from here by the way she dressed; she had an Old Navy name brand sweat shirt, and fancy, clean, pre-cut jeans, and a pair of clean Nikes. And she didn't wear as much make up or have the body build of a lesbian. She didn't dye her hair like most girls, because her hair was pure ginger red from roots to bangs, and she didn't have jewelry either like everyone else.

She looked like someone from Urban Iowa. That made more sense for someone from Iowa in Detroit then have someone normal in Detroit.

She had a stack of papers in her hand, intern, but she was 7th-8th grade age. I've seen weirder.

I looked back at Mr. Anus; his eyes were live as an electric fence. His nostrils flared twice then he spoke, "Who are you," He said choking on his words. Defiantly a pedophile and he was still covered in ink by the way and the girl raised one of her eyebrows but decided not to comment on it.

"I got papers from Mr. Jones." She responded evenly.

"You didn't answer my question." Anus said getting kinda pissy.

"But she did... s-i-r," I said stretching out the 'sir'. "You said 'who are you?' and she answered by saying 'I got papers' that's technically still an answer." I said.

"Oh, I see we have a debater." He said icily.

She smiled at me and back at him she wondered if she did something wrong, "Sonny, I'm Mr. Jones' kid." She said obviously wanting to make a B-line for the cops.

I chimed in "And this is Mr. Anus and as much as I don't like it he's our substitute teacher." laying out the word 'substitute' again.

Mr. Anus glared at me almost as if he were interested on finding out different ways to kill me. He breathed deeply through his nose. "You 'Smart Mouth' and you 'Miss No Name' are staying after school." He said coldly.

Ok now I was pissed. I didn't stop the assignment for everyone. "This is not meant to be offensive to a specific group of people, but you sir, are gay."