Disclaimer: I own none of the people but the teachers (which does not include Mr. Denton.) Blah, blah, blah.

Author's note: In this chapter and all future chapters, anything any of the characters say does not necessarily reflect my views. I don't mean anything to offend anyone.

Chapter Two—Somebody Jack Knows

Jack Kelly

May 13

English

Mr. Dentyne Ice.

Somebody I Know

I know my friend David. You do too. He loves your class. He says to me, during your class, "Don't pass me notes. I don't want to get in trouble with Denton."

Anyway, I don't know what's so great about him. (He says, "HEY!") He stole my Thai takeout! (He says, "I'm hungry!") And he turned on some weird gay music. (He says, "I Touch Myself is a classic!")

I really think he should stop reading over my shoulder. He's NOT helping. I didn't invite him over to look over my shoulder while I attempt to write about him.

Mr. D, he loves your class. I think because my best friend loves your class, I should get an A. (He says, "Jack! That's bullshit!")

David... what can I say about him. You know, he may be kind of ugly, but he's packing a good 10 inches. (He says, "Don't tell him THAT!")

He is trying to distract me. I wonder why he thinks thrusting his goods around is going to distract me?

(An hour later.) Mr. D, Davey's a VERY good kisser. (He says, "I WAS NOT KISSING YOU! I FELL ON YOUR MOUTH AND NEARLY BROKE MY JAW!")

David's family is Polish. They fed me Polish sausage once. David kind of tastes like Polish sausage. "Hey, how do you spell Polish sausage?" I just asked him. He thinks I'm an idiot. He says, "P-O-L-I-S-H space S-A-U-S-A-G-E, dumbass! I do NOT taste like Polish sausage!" I tell him, "I meant the word that starts with a K—what is it? Kill-bass-er?" He's coming over. Kielbasa. David typed that. He tastes like... Kielbasa. (I copy and pasted that.) Maybe they make Polish sausage out of Polish people. (I told David, who's in the kitchen getting a Coke, "Watch out for people with knives, Dave, you're Polish!" and he said, "So? That's racist!" and I said, "No, I just don't want you to be made into sausage." He says he doesn't understand my logic.)

David's sister is Sarah my girlfriend and his little brother is Les who looks like a large rodent. Actually, Les is pretty short for his age, so I guess he looks like a small rodent.

I don't know what else to write about David. I think I'll ask him about his favorite things.

David's favorite color is brown or gray.

David's favorite food is applesauce. He likes dipping bagels in it. I think it's gross. Especially the bagels.

David's favorite class is any science class. Or English.

David's favorite teacher is you.

David's favorite brand of condoms is Durex.

David's favorite brand of lube is KY.

David's dumb. He JUST realized I'm putting this in my paper. I asked him what did he THINK I was doing and get this: he said, "I dunno, making a shopping list or something."

I told him, "See this is why people make Pollack jokes!"

Ow. He punched me.

Actually, David kind of sucks at fighting.

JACK HAS CRABS.

David typed that. I think he's mad at me. Otherwise he wouldn't sabotage my English homework. (Sabotage. That's a long word. I should get extra credit.) Besides, I do NOT have crabs. I did have a pet lobster once, though. He died. Maybe I should've given him some water...

Oh! That stupid gay song isn't on anymore! Now David's sulking on my couch watching some musical about street kids selling newspapers. (There's a guy in it who looks a lot like me! He's pretty darn handsome.) I asked David what kind of a gay plot is that and he told me to shut up and write my paper.

POLISH-SAUSAGE-TASTE-LIKER. That's what I yelled at him.

That stupid gay paperclip tells me "POLISH-SAUSAGE-TASTE-LIKER" is a fragment. What the hell does that mean, stupid gay paperclip? Ya scab!

David stopped the movie. He's hovering again. He's like, TOUCHING my hair... and feeling up my pecs. What the hell, Davey?

Mayb e he shoulkdsto optkkiss inh me. Its' kind a hard tp typewhennm h'es kis sinnng me.

Im ' gonma finnis h when davds done...

(Two hours later.) David said I imagined it all. I told him one doesn't imagine being violently buttfucked by a very, very big boy, if you catch my drift.

He says, "I WAS NOT HAVING ANAL WITH YOU, JACK!"

I told him he's crude.

Okay, I've probably written 1,000 words by now. Lemme check.

Nope. Only 744.

You know, Davey told me once that he still wets the bed. That was last year, though. Hang on, I wanna ask if he still does.

"Hey, David, do you still wet the bed? I just yelled. I think he's in the bathroom.

"Are you going to put this in your paper?" Is what he said back.

"Yes." I told him.

"Then no." he said.

I should ask Sarah. They share a dorm because they're here on a scholarship. I have an on-campus apartmenton the top floor of the dormitory building because of... well, actually, I don't know why. But it's literally an apartment except I have to share it with Racetrack, which is okay because he's funny, small, cool, and not home much. I wonder where he goes... I never asked. Betcha it's the racetracks.

David did my laundry yesterday, and now I can't find my jockstrap. Stupid fucker. We're on the soccer team together. "Hey, David," I said. He's back on my couch. "Have you seen my jockstrap?"

He won't answer.

I bet he took it.

Okayyyy... ABOUT DAVID. I'm almost done, so I'll stay on topic for now. Um, he's seventeen years old, like me. He has really thick eyebrows and a really pale forehead. And his Adam's apple sticks out. Mine doesn't. Not much. His is HUGE. Like, the size of fucking RUSSIA! He has Russia sticking out of his neck! AAAHHHHHHHHH!!! THE RUSSIANS ARE IN DAVID'S THROAT! AAHHHHH! RUN!

OMG, it was really funny last week we went to Snitch and Itey's dorm—me and David and Racetrack—and straightened David's hair. He looked soooooooo funny! Which makes me wonder, why do Snitch and Itey have a hair straightener anyway?

I do know that Snitch's been trying to switch dorms with Bumlets for ages. Cos Itey wants to room with Bumlets and Snitch wants to room with Skittery.

Ohh! Lookit! I'm done! 1064 words, not counting these! BITE ME, DENTY, I'M DONE!