I wasn't very active as a child so I clung to my baby fat a little longer than the kids in my grade. I've always had trouble waking up early for school and I was always slow at getting ready. Mother used to force me to try out at local sports teams but eventually gave up. If I wasn't trembling at the sight of taller, more aggressive kids then I was stuck in place as the ball came flying at me. I quit after a few practices every time. So I never joined a sports team. I went straight home where I helped my mom with chores around the house. On the weekends I got the mail and helped prepare meals. I imagine that she would've also had a rough time waking up if hadn't helped her.
I think the bullies would've had fun beating me when they found out I wasn't athletic. I wouldn't be able to fight back. The best I could've done was bit their arm. But they found out after they had to be silent about it. Sending a victim home with bruises wasn't the best way to bully them in secret. Instead they made me carry their stuff.
"It's really heavy," I said one day. I was carrying the halfway-inflated-balloon's backpack and all of their sports bags on their way to class. They gave me no choice.
"Join a sport, then." said Balloon.
The much skinnier boy next to him added, "You'll get stronger." as he patted his twig-like arm.
The advice didn't sound very kind. Really, it made me want to do the exact opposite. Perhaps that was the point.
The third boy scoffed. "Like he'd be any good at sports."
The in-secret bullying continued for the rest of the school year went onto fourth grade. They didn't take my lunch much anymore. Probably only once every few weeks. When they did take my lunch, it always happened on the days when I was the hungriest.
The one with twiggy arms took my lunchbox from the table and held it over his backpack. "How pathetic! He's not even going to protest! Why don't you at least try?" He moved the box way over my head, too far out of reach.
I didn't move. What was the point?
"Come on, boy. Try to get it." he said with a frown.
I wanted to cry but I knew I wouldn't stop if I did.
He lowered the box so that it was in front of my face. I could smell the fries that my mom packed for me. My stomach growled and I reached for it without thinking. Of course he'd pull it away. The invisible bystanders knew he would pull it away. I finally started crying.
The two boys laughed as though I'd told the funniest joke in the world. The boy with my food fell to the ground, clutching his sides and dropping the box in the process. Thinking back on it, I probably had enough time to grab it and run before the bullies had enough time to react. But I was too busy wiping down my nose with the neck of my shirt.
"What's so funny?" came a cold, flat voice. I didn't recognize the voice.
I dared look up and found that I didn't recognize the face either. He was tall and his glare was hard, but couldn't be much older than the bullies and I. He had sandy blond hair and had honey brown eyes behind his square glasses. He wore a simple white shirt with tan shorts, which he had one hand stuffed into the front pocket of. The other pocket had a phone peaking out that was connected to a set of headphones that sat around his neck.
"Who do you think you are?" Balloon asked. When the taller boy didn't answer boy, he shouted, "Answer me, four-eyes!"
Glasses frowned. "Answer me, chubby. I asked a question first."
Twig was the one to speak up. "This boy," he pointed thin finger at me, "is pathetic and has a gross face. He's joke!"
"Some people have quite the nerve," he sounded almost like he wished he was anywhere but there, though his glare was dangerous. "You know what I think? You're both as pathetic as him."
The third boy growled like a wild dog. "Who-"
"I'm Tsukishima Kei, to answer your question. Now give him back his lunch."
"You can't tell us what to do!" Wild-Dog shouted but Twig tossed me my box. I gave a gurgling noise when it hit my stomach. A moment of silence passed before the bully trio ran off.