I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns it all. I'm just playin' around with his characters. :)

11-year-old Mark Cohen walked down the packed hallway with his backpack securely on his back and his lunchbox clutched tightly to his chest. Just for safety. His mother had told him not to worry. That his first day at a new school would only be as scary as he made it himself. So far it was absolutely terrifying.

"Hey,check it out. It's the newbie," he heard behind him. The person who said it was right.

He was the newbie.

As he walked, he scanned every locker he could see until he reached his. He reached for the combination lock only to be pushed out of the way by a boy much taller than him. It turns out that the boy's locker was right next to his.

"Um . . . excuse me," Mark said in a timid voice. The boy continued to open his locker. Noticing the boy didn't hear him, Mark tried again."Excuse me." Still he received no answer as the boy began to put the contents of his own backpack into his locker. Mark then decided to use physical contact. He tapped the tall boy on the shoulder and, to his surprise, the boy turned around.

"Yeah?" the boy said. Now that Mark had a full view of the boy, he saw that he was black, much taller than he'd thought, and was wearing blue jeans, old sneakers,a yellow vest,three undershirts, and some sort of knitted beanie on his head. Mark stood in front of the boy and gaped at him. "What do you want kid?" Mark suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Um . . . that's my locker," Mark said, pointing to the locker that was rightfully his. The boy looked where Mark's hand was pointing.

"That's nice and all, but, here in middle school, we all have lockers," was the boy's reply.

"No. I mean, your locker's really close to mine."

"Look kid, I'd love to stand here and talk, but I got stuff to do." The boy turned back to his locker.

"Well . . . if you could just . . .just please . . ." Mark stopped himself after noticing the boy was ignoring him. He tapped him on the shoulder again, but received no response. He then took a deep breath. "HEY!" he yelled at the boy.

"What!?" the boy retorted.

"MOVE!" The boy came close to him.

"What'd you just say to me?"

"M-move."

"Gimmie one good reason why I should." The boy came closer and was now towering over Mark.

"I-it's just . . .you see . . . what I was trying to . . . don't hurt me! I don't have any money, but my lunchbox is good for something. Just please don't beat me up! It's my first day!"

"Oh. You're the new kid?" Mark nodded, afraid to utter a word. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I'm just not in the mood for any crap today. I heard 7th grade is no joke." Mark suddenly found his voice.

"You're in the 7th grade?" he asked.

"Yup. Name's Tom. What's yours?"

"Mark."

"Well, nice to meet you Mark."

"You too. Um . . . could you please let me get to my locker?"

"Oh! My bad."

"It's okay." As group of guys walked by, one of them ran into Mark and his lunchbox fell.

"Watch where you're goin' newbie," one of them said. Mark assumed he was the leader.

"Maybe you should watch where you're goin'. You ever thought of that?" Tom said. The leader came toward Tom, but Tom didn't back down.

"Are you challenging me?" the leader asked. Tom said nothing and simply held up a belt that was once holding the leader's pants in place. As the leader's pants fell a chorus of laughter was heard throughout the hallway.

"I assume you'll be going now," Tom said with a smirk on his face as the leader fled. He then picked up the lunchbox and handed it back to Mark. "I do believe this is yours."

"Thanks Tom," Mark said. "Who were those guys?"

"8th graders. Don't worry about them. They won't mess with ya as long as I'm around."

"Good." Mark started to open his locker before Tom stopped him.

"I just remembered. New students can't do anything until they see the principal. Typical first day rule," he said.

"Oh. So where's . . .?"

"I'll take you there."

"But what if the . . ." Mark lowered his voice to a whisper, "8th graders come back?" Tom chuckled.

"Don't be scared. You've got a 7th grader on your side." Hearing this made Mark smile. Things were looking up. It was his first day, he was already making friends, and this particular friend could kick the snot out of anyone who threatened him.

What could possibly go wrong?

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