Oh great. That kid again. A jerk if I ever saw one.
James Buchanan Barnes; tall, handsome, smart, sportsy, practically perfect in everyway.
Well except for one. He's the biggest bully in school. Picks on anyone smaller (and a few people bigger), than him, just for the fun of it.
Unfortunately, I (Steve Rogers), am one of his favorite targets. I don't like bullies and I never back down from a fight. He gets a kick out of beating me up. Literally.
Anyway, he and his gang approach me at their normal, sauntering walk. I'm sitting down, my back to a tree, eating my lunch.
"Rogers," he smirks as they approach.
"Barnes," I reply, standing up and clenching my fists. He grins down at me, seeing as he's a foot taller than me
"Whatcha got there?" he asks
"Lunch," I reply tersely.
"Hm… Well, I don't know about you boys, but I'm pretty hungry. How about you hand it over Rogers. Things don't have to get ugly." I almost smile.
"It always gets ugly Barnes. Let's just get it over with." I drop my apple on the ground and raise my fists, like I do every time.
I've gotten better at fighting. And by better I mean I can at least dodge a few punches. Before long, I'm on the ground once, twice, three times, until they finally walk away, taking my lunch with them. Maybe if my lunch didn't get stolen so much I wouldn't be as skinny.
Man, I hate that kid. I see him shove a fourth grader as he walks by and makes her fall to the ground. His friends laugh. Making a decision, probably a stupid one, I stand up and clutching my ribs, quickly hobble to catch up with him. Bravely, I tap him on the shoulder and as he turns around, I punch him in the nose. He reels back and it seems as if everyone on the playground stops to look at us. Barnes turns to face me and wipes blood from his nose. He laughs.
"Well, punk, I knew you got guts, but that was just downright stupid." With a wave of his hand he motions his gang behind him and lunges at me. We scuffle on the ground and a ring of students form around us all yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Somehow I manage to keep him from pinning me down and even manage to get in a few hits. It's all dust, blood, and grunts down here. The roar of the crowd just makes us both fight harder.
But, inevitably, Barnes finally gets on top of me and pummels my face over and over. The pain numbs my senses and I don't even notice when Barnes is pulled off of me and we're both dragged to the principal's office. We are both handed ice packs and sit there in stony silence until Barnes gets called in. It seems like forever until he comes out. His hands are in his pockets and he looks angry.
"Your turn," he grunts. I stand up and as I walk past him, he trips me. I end up sprawled on the floor and he runs down the hallway, sniggering. Cursing under my breath, I pick myself up and walk in the room.
"Sit down, Mr. Rogers." I carefully sit down and wait to be chewed out.
"How's your home life Steve?" the principal asks.
"Just fine." I can already see where this is going.
"Now, your mother is single, isn't she?" He knows very well that she is, but I still reply,
"Yes, sir." The principal sighs.
"Steve, I know you don't have a father anymore, and I understand that must be hard, but you shouldn't get into fights just t-"
"With all due respect, sir, that has absolutely nothing to do with it!" It's a struggle for me to stay seated.
"Now don't get angry son. It's just that over the last month you've gotten into a lot of fights. I understand you want atten-"
"I don't care about getting attention! I just can't stand bullies. If any of this has to do with my father's death, it's that he taught me that you have to stand up to them. You can't start running from them or you'll never stop." The principal is silent for a moment as he tries to figure out what to do with me.
"Don't let it happen again," he finally says. "Dismissed." I stoically leave his office and start to head home. Mom will be worried sick by now. I get jumped twice on the way home only to be left in the dirt when they've had their fun and realize I don't have any money. I don't even notice when I start to cry.
Why? Why me? I never have what they want and I've never done anything to them. So why do they pick on me so much? It hurts so much. Physically and emotionally.
"Why?" I choke out quietly. I run the rest of the way home, letting the tears fly until I get to our apartment building. I quickly wipe my eyes and stop my tears before heading up. I have to be strong for Mom. I have to be strong for Dad. There's no one to protect me, so I have to be strong for myself.
Tonight after Mom had patched me up and was tucking me in, she leaned down and kissed my head.
"Steve. Promise me you'll remember one thing."
"What?" I ask sleepily.
"Bullies weren't always bullies and they may not always be." I curl under the covers.
"Mmkay," I mumble, and drift off to sleep.