The bell rang me out of my funk, and I got up. No one was around. That would've been a good thing if it didn't mean that classes have started. I run up to the building and through the halls. The halls are now devoid of students and teachers. Quickly, I look up my name on a post on the wall and run to my assigned homeroom, which was all the way across school. As I made a turn for the exit, however, I run and crash onto something, and I collapse on the floor.
"Shit! Are you okay?" Funny. Somethings can't talk.
I compose myself and get up as I look onto whom I crashed my largeness with. Surely enough, it's another young man, even larger than me, and that's quite a feat. His face is round, pale and baby-like, with a pout on his lips, but his eyes are hidden behind his stylish sunglasses. He seems to have eyed me for a while, then his head turns to see something on the floor. I follow his gaze and find my binder and some papers on the hall floor. I crouch to pick them up, but he follows me to help. As he is down, I take a quick look at his blue polo shirt, which said something steched over his left breast in tiny letters: SECURITY.
"Where are you going?" he asks in a lulled lisp.
My eyes are still on the shirt's stitching. Now what? First day of school, and already detention awaits at its end? He might take me to the principal and have me suspended or something. I didn't know, but my nerves were certainly crumbling.
He gets up again as I place my things in my backpack.
"You're okay?"
I nod. In truth, I wasn't.
"You better get to class. Spending a whole afternoon of your first day picking up cafeteria trash and blown-up condoms isn't very productive, unless you want good references for a future career in janitorial work, of which I can happily provide."
Somehow, this put me in a better mood, so I smile a bit.
"Kick ass," he responds modestly. "Where to?"
"Room 21."
"You're a little far from there, aren't you? Let's go."
I follow him outside and across the school grounds until we reach the bungalows. I knew perfectly well where Room 21 was, so I didn't need his help. But with all this cold weather you can't help but to get together with someone.
"Why were you late, if I can ask?" he asked, his head fixed towards the bungalows. "Slept on the bus? Parents dozed off?"
"No reason." Of course there was a reason, but I'll let Greg know of it, not some security officer.... Come to think of it, I've never seen this guy before. Or maybe I simply never noticed him before. What, with all the guys I've fought in this school, I should know all of the security officers by now, but this one must've slipped my mind. But how could he? Look at him; he's huge!
"No problem," he responds in an upbeat nonchalance.
"Are you new here?" I ask as we approach Room 21.
"Yeah, I just started today."
Whoa, that's a relief. He is new! But why was that relieving?
"Here we are. I used to have science here with Mr. Branson. He's a real he-bitch. Is he still around?"
I didn't know who Mr. Branson was, as I have never had a class with him, so I just shrugged my shoulders.
"No matter. I bet it's warmer inside."
Understanding this, I open the door and enter the room to see the teacher and the kids suddenly staring and giggling at me as though I was ten minutes late for my execution, but then the security guy holds my shoulders back. He probably noticed the stares.
"If you need anything, just call my name." Sounds like a plan, I thought. If that Branson guy was as bitchy as he called him, a little help wouldn't hurt. He gives a wave to the teacher and leaves. Then, I realized I forgot something. What was his name!? I didn't even give him mine! I turn back to him, but the door was now shut. Still feeling the gaze of everyone inside, I go to the only seat available in front of the room, of which I found hard to get into. Man, I must've really grown; I can't budge into it. My classmates take notice and giggle even more. I finally squeeze myself into my seat. Someone has already begun to pass the schedules, and I get mine.
Mr. Branson is up first. Greg better be there, because I don't want to find out by myself if that security guy was right.
The bell rings, and now I'm off to the first class of the day. Everyone can't help but look at the walking and talking giant that I am. Sneers usually follow, but I try not to mind. I look around in vain search of the nameless security guy as I make it to Mr. Branson's class.
Surely enough, Kevin, Loge, and their unnamed cronies are at the class. Ah, but to my relief, I hear my name spoken in a crackling voice. "Bean!" It's Gregory Mongeau, my absolutely best friend, if a bit horny round the clock. No doubt he'll be demonstrating his newfound ways to please himself in the shower, so to speak. He spots me, and motions me to come. I quickly take a seat next to him.
"You ever been in a jacuzzi?"
"Like I could fit into one," I dismiss.
"You know what I did? I went to one of the jet stream holes where all the hot water comes out and, when everyone was out,..." Need I tell you more? But this wasn't important, as Kevin, Loge and their two friends come up to me. Kevin is as handsome as ever, and Terry even more so, with their modest builds and soft faces, except that Loge wore some fancy glasses. The other two were big, but unlike me, they were buff, and not too bad looking. Somehow, Kevin and Loge always manage to stand out in fashion, even as they wear their uniforms.
"How are you today?" Kevin spoke in his voice of poisoned honey. "No doubt you were expanding your horizons last Christmas." He pats on my stomach.
I should give him an uppercut. I never tried one before, and I've been mulling it for a while now, but the opportunity passed up, now that the bell rings and Mr. Branson comes in. Kevin and company walk back to their seats. I take another survey of the classroom, and I find Luginbill Puddles sitting in front, with no one next to him.
Let's just say that Mr. Branson must either have a fire in his stomach or he has to pee badly, because he's super-excited. He's young, maybe early 50s, clean-cut, and has this nice suit. On his face, he wears a big smile. Not a single word from him is muttered or muffled; he definitely wants his class to hear and heed to every bit that comes out of his lips. He then takes out this glass jar and holds it in front of us, saying it's a preserved baby octopus. That was weird, because I've never seen any preserved animal before, much less in a jar full of yellow liquid. In his faith, he passed it around, telling everyone that they had to be careful with it.
I then have my turn at it and take a look at the little tentacles. Man, this looks awesome. After a few seconds more than everyone else, I pass it to Greg, who quickly passes it to someone else. Eventually, it makes it into the hands of Luginbill--well, actually it slipped from his hands once he held it. The glass jar broke and spilled the dead octopus and the yellow liquid onto the floor, triggering many a scream from the females.
Mr. Branson comes up to Luginbill, but instead of cleaning up the mess, his face suddenly tightens, as though he just switched masks, and viciously eyes Luginbill. "Get up, boy!" His tone was the same, but it had a much meaner approach now. Luginbill slowly stood up, keeping his head low.
"You know how much that costed me? Had I known you were some stupid preschooler, I would've asked your mom to hold it! I can see we've already found our class klutz." At this, Luginbill's lips quivered. Mr. Branson wasn't done: "Take off your jacket and clean this mess of the floor with it. You trashed my possession, so it's only fair that in return I trash yours." Luginbill followed his orders with the immediacy of a puppet, took off his jacket, and scrubbed the floor with it.
I'm seeing all this, staring at Mr. Branson. This must've been what the security guy meant. I was only thinking that this guy wasn't an easy A.
But he must've felt my stare, because the next minute, he turns to me. I look down, but he already starts walking towards my desk.
"You must be Robert Bean!" he goes, now with full zeal.
I try to look away, but I can now feel his stare, too.
He makes it to my desk. "Stand up, boy!" I didn't want to. I was sure that he would make me peform the last rites for the octopus, even though it was already dead. He probably knew that I was the infamous Green Burrito. Seeing no point in shrugging it off, I stand.
He extends his right arm over my shoulder and his left arm towards the class. "Now this guy shows promise! A true genius." I should've been flattered, actually, but having him point this out in a classroom full of Burrito-haters was rather embarassing. My cheeks were turning really red in fear. "Soon, you will all bow down to this man! He could find a cure for the cold. He could win the Nobel prize!" I could, but couldn't I have figured that out for myself?
He finally leaves, but I still stand, now looking down on the faces of my contemptuous peers. Greg brings be back to Earth by pulling me down to my seat.
"Class act all the way, huh?" Greg goes dryly. To be honest, he wasn't too good with science. I now know that this will be a field trip to hell for at least three people in this class.
That security guy was right.