Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders (14 page)

It was 8:30 a.m. I guess this was yesterday, although it feels like a year ago.

I'd woken up because I heard Dad leave to open up the community college for Saturday classes. He didn't say a word to me, you know? Grandpa definitely told him I went on that eating freak-out and he didn't care. He didn't stop down to say anything about how I hurt his feelings by disobeying him or how he was worried about me getting hurt by staying out all night. He just left for the day.

I was awake, groggy. I brushed my teeth twice but still had a bad taste in my mouth. I still felt ill—but not like I was going to throw up. My heart beat funny, high in my chest, like it was trying to get out. I read a mystery novel Mom had in her collection (which I kept hidden in a box in the closet) to keep my mind off all the crap in the world. But I couldn't concentrate.

That's when someone started pounding on the front door. I sat up. I heard Grandpa talking to this someone. I even heard him say I wasn't available because I was grounded. Justin is good like that. He talked his way in.

I put down Mom's mystery novel and shakily climbed the stairs and met Justin in the hall off the kitchen. He was pale and trembling. So mad. His oxford wasn't buttoned right.

I whispered, “Oh. Jesus. What?”

“I didn't know you were capable of this, dude.”

My heart accelerated. “I guess getting robbed by the school changes a guy,” I said.

“You know this isn't about the band,” he whispered.

“Of course it's about the band.”

“No. It's about me. Something good happens to me and you want me to pay because I'm leaving you behind.”

“Are you kidding? I'm leaving you behind,” I said. “You have it backward.”

“What are you talking about, Chunk?” he spat. “You're the same fat nerd.”

“Go away, Justin. I don't have time for traitors.”

“You have time for posting porn pics of my girlfriend though?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don't play dumb, you fat freak!”

I took a deep breath, took a step forward so I was inches from him. “Say that again and you're dead,” I said.

“Are you going to get Austin and Mike Timlin to kick my ass because you can't fight your own fights?”

“Dude, who are you?” I sneered at him.

“I'm the guy who's going to sue your ass for defamation of character. I'm the guy who's going to kick your ass for getting our teacher fired. I'm the guy you'd better not mess with ever again because it will get so ugly, Chunk, so bad for you. I'll teach you not to mess with our girlfriends.”

I took a deep breath. Blinked. “Whose girlfriends?”

He paused for a second. He exhaled and then stood up straight. “Mine and Seth's.”

I nodded at him. I took a deep breath, sir. “That's all I need to hear. Get out of my house.”

“Chunk, you did this to me.”

“No, dude. You're doing it to yourself, and if you ever call me Chunk again, you'll feel the weight of my foot on your skinny ass. Get out.”

Justin's face turned the color of an apple, sir. He looked like he was choking. “See you later,” he whispered. He nodded, turned, and left.

I had to bend over to catch my breath. Man. That's the guy I almost lived with after my mom left me. His mom made cakes for me to make me feel better.

Okay, okay, okay—

Sir, my ass is killing me. Don't you pretty much know what happened after this? Haven't the police filled you in? I really, really feel like crap.

Fine. Okay.

Porn pics? Porn what? Of Janessa? How could I have anything to do with that? I couldn't begin to get my head around it, sir. I figured it was on the Internet someplace—but hey. No computer access.

After Justin left, without even thinking, I walked to the fridge, opened it up, looked in, and saw bread and cheese and ham. I saw the other bottle of Mountain Dew.
Shit.
I slammed the fridge and then went downstairs and started to sort of lose it, thinking about all the fun stuff Justin and I have done over the years, thinking about his mom and dad and singing stupid songs in the car with them while we rolled off on the family trips. The Cornells took me with them. My mom and dad never took me anyplace.

I picked up the stupid mystery novel again, tried to stop thinking. Couldn't read it because my eyes were burning, so maybe I was crying.

That's when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I put the book down. A second later, Grandpa came around the corner.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

Grandpa sniffed, made a face. “You need to clean this place up. It's disgusting.”

“Thanks. Thanks for creeping downstairs to insult me. I appreciate it.”

“Aw, Gabe. Come on, kid.”

“What?”

“I'm on your—I'm trying to help your ass out. That's my job. That's the only reason I'm in this sad little house of yours.”

“Good work so far,” I said.

“Hell yeah, good work. Got you exercising, didn't I?”

I took a deep breath, nodded. “Yeah. What do you want?”

“Okay. This is my assessment, boy. You ready?”

I shut my eyes, got ready for another insult, but that's not what came.

“Your dad isn't in good working order. I've been trying to tell him that you're acting like a regular teenaged dumb ass, not a damn criminal, but he's not getting the message. I'm beginning to figure out that this jail cell he wants you locked in has more to do with your mother than it does you.”

“I don't get it. How?” I asked.

“She'd been sneaking around for a year before he noticed, and by the time he noticed, she was already packing up her life to leave him for another man.”

“I'm not his wife.”

“He has no wife. He tried to get hold of your mother all afternoon yesterday to tell her about your troubles. When she finally responded to an email, she told him that you and he were a past life and she was no longer living in the same realm.”

“What?” I gasped.

“She's gone, buddy. Gone nuts, if you ask me. But you're here and he went right to your zombie friend's place to find you after reading that message.”

“What does Mom mean…realm?”

“I don't know, kid. But I'm sure somewhere at the bottom of your old man's injured heart, he thinks you're working hard to leave him behind too. And if you go, what's left for him?”

“I don't know. You?” I whispered.

“I ain't no prize.”

“Different realm?”

I know lots of kids whose parents have gotten divorced, Mr. Rodriguez, but I'm the only kid I know whose mom divorced him too. I have a terrible mom. I collapsed back onto my bed.

Grandpa started talking fast. “Listen, Gabe. I can see it. I can see that you're climbing out of the shit river that you've been in since your idiot mom ran off. I hammer on you because I want you out of that river. And I'm real proud about…about the way you've been handling yourself of late. Working out. Arguing with that Cornell boy just now. Locking lips with a zombie. You have some fight in you.”

I nodded, swallowed. “Thanks,” I whispered. “Thanks for noticing.”

“You can't stop just because your dad is still stuck in the river, okay? You have to keep showing that fight and you have to keep pulling on those weeds on that riverbank to pull yourself the whole way out. If that means telling your old man where to stick it and heading out of this house when he doesn't want you heading out, well…I want you to know you got my full blessing on that.”

I pushed myself back up, looked at him. “Really?”

“I'll let you know if you're acting like an ass wipe, but I won't stop you from doing what's right.”

“Okay. Okay,” I whispered.

“You let me know how I can help you, Gabe. I'll help.”

“I'm just going to lie here for a bit,” I said.

Grandpa nodded. He turned to leave but then turned back around. “One more thing, buddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Don't ever eat like that again. You scared me.”

“I won't. I'm sorry.”

You know, Mr. R., I always sort of hoped Mom would swoop back in and get me at some point. I always thought she was my way out of the mess. I didn't ever think it would be my grandpa.

I stayed downstairs for like an hour. Then I decided Grandpa was right.

Every move I made from that moment on was deliberate and not crazy, Mr. Rodriguez. I got done feeling sorry for myself. I found Grandpa in the backyard, digging out dandelions. The morning sun was bright and strong! I said, “Who was that call from last night?”

Grandpa squinted up at me. “Hippy chick who flaps her arms when she talks.”

“Camille.”

He nodded. “She called to tell you your band is in trouble.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“And that her dad and her older brother had to chase kids in ski masks out of their garden. Vandals crushed tomato plants.”

“Aw, Jesus. She wasn't even part of the protest.” Adrenaline flowed in my veins. “I need my computer back, Grandpa.”

“I don't know where it is, but your dumb mother's computer is in the closet in my room. Will that work?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” I said. Then I marched in the house and into Grandpa's room and found Mom's old laptop on the top shelf of the closet. It was time for me to reengage with the world.

Your phone is buzzing, sir.

Go. Fine. I can sit in this room for the rest of my damn life. Just go ahead, Mr. Rodriguez. Answer your damn phone while I sit here forever.

Whatever. You just said “Yep” and hung up. Yep what? Come on!

If the phone call had something to do with me, will you please at least nod?

Is that a nod? That's a weak-ass nod, Mr. Rodriguez.

Thanks a lot.

Computer.

I did start Geekers United, but I don't control everybody. Justin should've known I didn't have anything to do with that porn stuff. I'm no techie genius. Listen, sir, people get a little power and they use it, especially if they've been whacked with the shaft their whole crap lives, you know?

Gamer Nick apparently headed right home after the protest and sliced and diced up his video of the cheerleaders and made a bunch of GIFs. He's pretty good with video.

The stripper one was great. Janessa, Kailey, and Emily out front grinding back and forth like they were aroused Barbies who were also really mad about something. Janessa's face is super funny in it because she's growling like a lion. Rwwawrrrrr!

Yeah, thus, the Janessa porn. Those computer dudes stuck her growling face on all kinds of gross Internet action. You imagine a gross thing a human being can do with a body and they stuck Janessa's head on that body. Pretty bad.

Nick made one GIF of Jenny Case and Peri Jonas, the “Tequila” dancing cheerleaders, dancing and then jumping really high when a water balloon smashed down. That was actually really cute, I thought.

There's a great GIF of me crawling across the floor toward the balcony too.
Captain
Gabe
sneaks
to
start
the
chaos!
I'm proud of that one because I look cool—like a spy—even though on the inside, I was a shivering mass of emotion, just scared. Nobody could see it on the outside.

Right. That's the classic. The most viewed. Slow-motion Kailey getting hit on the head by one of Austin's balloons and then seemingly screaming “Wooo!” while shaking the water out of her hair. Then she sticks out her butt.

It's dirty. I watched that one maybe a thousand times.

Yeah, her shirt goes sort of see-through and her eyes close. Her mouth opens, and when she spins her head around, it fires all this water into the air in an…in an erotic way.

Gamer Nick called it
Total
Kaus-gasm
.

Geekers had a Tumblr that was filled with all these pictures and little animations and things. Don't mess with gamers, man. They'll get you.

Seth, Jason, Pete Erickson—they were the ones doing the vandalism, I think.

From Facebook, I found out that eggs were thrown at Gore's place and at the Petersen twins'. Camille's farm had plants smashed. Raj's car had the back window broken out of it.

Exactly. Worse.

Gamer Nick has a little sister and a little brother too. They were sitting there and watching Disney at 6 a.m. Saturday morning when a freaking rock shattered the living room window.

Nick posted all kinds of pictures of the damage. He called the cops.

I'm sure it was Seth. He's the one who should be in jail.

I really, really doubt Justin was involved in any vandalism.

Why are you laughing about that?

Mr. Rodriguez, you're kind of weird.

In any case, Grandpa said I could leave, but I wasn't sure where to go. I didn't want to hunt down Seth by myself. Gore and RC III were at Dante's and I didn't want to go there because what if Dante called Dad?

I just looked at everything the Geekers were putting up. I laughed at the Janessa porn. I watched that Kailey video. I sent messages to people who were cleaning up egg vandalism and broken glass, telling them we'd figure out what to do about it all. I even wrote a note to Shaver to tell him I was sorry about what had happened.

Then I spent an hour writing a Kailey Kaus poem, which I sent over to Camille to try to cheer her up.

Yeah, a poem. It went with the Kaus-gasm GIF.

A nasty poem, not a love poem. Kailey Kaus is my enemy.

You don't believe me? Pull up my email. The poem's in the Sent folder. Sent it Saturday morning, man. Why would you question my distaste for that girl? Pull it up!

That big water balloon that crashes into her in the GIF was yellow, so I wrote the sun thing.

Kailey Cries…Kailey's Thighs

The sun is not the sun that brings fun.

It falls from the sky to dampen my boobs.

Makes me wet, upset, sunset of my soul.

Girls, my body wants to boogie but

My butt is soaked by geeks!

Is this my round bunny hump you seek?

Moist, no, drenched, a wench

Serving water to quench your nerd

Bellies full of hot dogs

And french fries and donuts?

Don't listen to my cries,

Hear the squeaking of my toned

Thighs. Because that is the true song

Of my one true heart—

(Whoopsies, a fart.)

That's a hell of a poem, man. And the way Kailey sticks out her butt in slow motion at the end totally looks like she's farting.

Get it, sir? I don't like Kailey Kaus.

Yes, I wrote an apology to the cheerleaders—but not because I like Kailey.

I just started to think a little more clearly about this stuff. Remember that Gore said she didn't like it when we called jocks “jocks”? Then around 10:30, I got a Facebook message from Ms. Feagan. She's so awesome. So great. You can pull that up too. It's in my messages.

Gabe, hi there—

I'm so sorry to hear what the school board did with Mr. Shaver. I already have a call into the union. What you guys are dealing with isn't right. I support you. I'm not the only one either. There are many, many adults in the community who are upset about the way the band has been treated the last couple weeks. Thanks to you and your crew of students for talking about it all over town yesterday. Nobody knew, but they know now. I'm very proud of you. That said, I'd like you to take a step back for a moment and think about who is and who isn't a legitimate target. The dirty pictures and videos your friends are posting cross the line. In the end, these girls are just doing what they're told. They're children just like you and they don't deserve to be punished the way you're punishing them. Remember when we talked about the notion of impermanence when we read
Thirteen
Reasons
Why
? Remember how you said that who we are at fifteen will change at sixteen, seventeen, twenty-five, thirty-five and is different from who we were at ten? I thought that was so smart, Gabe, so true. Janessa Rogers will be a different Janessa a year from now. Just like she was different when she was a little girl getting a hug from her grandmother. And in two hundred years, she'll be gone, nothing, probably no one will remember her at all. That's true of all of us, you know? Have some empathy for the Janessa that was and the Janessa who will be and the Janessa who will disappear one day, okay? If you're fighting, target the institutions, but don't target kids. Will you think about that for me please? Thanks, guy. I'm working for you, okay?

Ms. Feagan

Whoa, right?

Yeah, that was eye opening, Mr. R. I thought a lot about how I get treated and how nobody seems to care—or at least think about—how much I've already been through and how that shit can cut you. I figured we were doing to Janessa just what she'd done to me. We were robbing her of her dignity, right?

I sat there staring at Ms. Feagan's message for a couple minutes. Then I wrote her back and told her thanks and told her I'd do better—and I meant it.

That's why I sent personal apologies to every one of the cheerleaders, not because I like Kailey Kaus.

Only Janessa responded. She told me where to stick it, but that's cool. This fight isn't about her in the end.

After I sent those messages, Grandpa and I did a hellacious circuit workout. That's how I spent the rest of my morning. I didn't know what else to do. I even considered the possibility that this whole thing with the band was running its course and maybe Ms. Feagan and her friends would do the fighting moving forward. I breathed deep and got calm and even thought I might keep myself grounded, stay in the house for the day, try to talk to Dad about Mom and everything.

Then, during lunch, Grandpa turned on the radio. And there it was. KMLA's Dick Kolighter interviewing freaking Deevers and Chief Bartell live at Wilson Beach. They were talking about the great Spunk River War of 2014.

Can you believe how trumped up that crap is? There were two groups of teenagers who were pretty pissed at each other and that was it. War? Come on! It had nothing to do with Spunk River Days either.

“We've had multiple reports of vandalism and two reports of physical assaults,” the chief said.

“This is related to the school having had to fire Barry Shaver,” Deevers said. “The band kids aren't taking it well, but there's not a lot we can do. Mr. Shaver has shown gross misconduct.”

“We're real concerned about safety at the festival tonight,” Chief Bartell said.

“That's why the school board acted this morning. We need to put a stop to it,” Deevers said.

“We sure don't want tourists getting caught in the crossfire.”

Crossfire, Mr. Rodriguez? Are we carrying guns?

Then the big news, sir. Deevers was the one to say it. “Zero tolerance, Dick. Absolutely zero. We won't have gang violence associated with our school. Just so the kids know we're serious, we formally suspended the band program for next year. We'll review the conduct of band members in June 2015 to determine if we're going to support the program going forward. That will put these kids on notice that their current behavior has implications for their future opportunities. It's a teachable moment.”

“Holy shit!” I shouted. I looked over at Grandpa. His mouth hung open. His eyes were wide.

“Unfortunate,” Dick Kolighter said on the radio.

“They took my band,” I shouted. “No band at all next year?”

“This ain't right,” Grandpa said. “Not right.”

I slammed my fist down on the table. “How about suspending football or cheerleading? Those are the guys throwing rocks through windows, throwing eggs and crap.” I thought about school without band and almost got sick. I stood up. “Oh, shit,” I said. “Oh, shit. This can't happen.”

Grandpa pinched his piehole. “No…but don't do anything stupid, kid.”

“Oh, man, Grandpa.”

“Breathe, kid.”

I turned. I walked down the hall. I went into Dad's bedroom. I had to do something. I had to call Camille and Gore. I had to call RC III. I don't have anybody's number memorized. It's all on my phone. I yanked open Dad's closet to look for my seized property. Dozens of empty 20-ounce pop bottles tumbled out, man. Cokes and Pepsis and root beers. I mean dozens, sir! I'm apparently not the only pop junky in the family. Dad just hides his problem, probably so he doesn't have to give any to me. “Shit!” I shouted. “Shit!” I stomped and crushed and kicked the crap out of all those bottles.

Then I stopped. Then I took several deep breaths. Thought about our research project, about the cash I spent, the stealing to feed my habit, the shakes from the damn sugar, how sick I got the night before from drinking Dew—and I thought,
I'm getting our money back. I'm going to give it all back to the burners, dorks, geeks, and fat asses.

Duh, man. Ms. Feagan is right. This isn't about kids. It's about the damn pop machine! That's why I robbed the bastard! That machine is not some emotionally crippled little girl. It's the root of all the trouble! My fat ass, my band getting its ass handed to it! I decided to fight that damn machine! I decided to redistribute all the money back to the people, back to the kids, just like freaking Robin Hood, man!

I stole from Kaus Company and the cheerleaders. Sure. I admit it.

I ran downstairs and opened Mom's computer. I googled breaking into pop machines. I sat in silent deliberation, made big plans, rested, meditated, waited for night. And then under the cover of darkness, I went into the school and did the deed. Rode my bike through the dark. Robbed all eighteen bucks out of that stupid machine. Went down to Cub Foods to buy myself some fruit (because it wasn't enough money to give back to anybody). Got arrested and police brutalized by Officer Rex McCoy, that dick.

And that's why we're here, sir. That's the whole story.

What are you doing?

Why in the hell are you laughing at me?

I do have a bike. Dad doesn't know crap!

Somebody must've left the school open. I just walked in.

They worked. The instructions you pulled out of my hoodie worked. I opened that pop machine!