It's the day after my 13th birthday. So far, nothing interesting happened to me since that day. But that can change.
Sighing, I get up and get ready to go to Lochland Middle School, where I am an eighth-grade student. The school isn't that big, with about 500 students; 45% of those students are in the eighth grade. Jemima is also in the eighth grade, but she acts like a high school junior. (She always thinks ahead, which annoys me.)
Anyway, after packing my stuff, I attempt to sneak out the house and go to the bus stop when mom catches me and makes me go back to the kitchen. She's not happy with me trying to leave the house without eating breakfast; she doesn't think eating cereal is good and eating pop tarts is out of the question. FYI, mom, the school does serve breakfast! I already know about the school's strict eating policy (which is that no child should go without food while on school property); that's why I eat the food the school serves. I'm not that irresponsible.
But mom is unfazed; she's not happy unless I'm eating something she makes. (She thinks the food the school serves is unhealthy.) So I go back into the kitchen, where mom shoves a plate full of rice and chicken at me, along with some flatbread. I know I'm going to miss the bus and possibly serve after-school detention with the principal because I didn't get to school on time, but mom won't let me go unless I eat the food she serves.
I do so reluctantly.
After breakfast is over, mom gives me and Jem our lunches, then dad shoves us into his old station wagon and drives us to school. (Did I mention my parents won't let me ride the school bus because they think public school transportation is meaningless? What did they have against school buses? I mean, mom and dad have been driving me to and from school since kindergarten, and I don't like it. They can't drive me to high school, wherever I'm going, so why won't they let me ride the bus?)
As I've said before, Lochland Middle School isn't very big, as it has 500 students attending. Most of those students came from Lochland Elementary School, so I know almost everyone who went to that school. Lochland Middle School, however, was slightly bigger than Lochland Elementary School, if not more. The school consists of four interconnected buildings, plus the library, gym, cafeteria, and the front office. (When I'm not in class, I usually stand in the area in front of the library, as I don't like to hang out at the computer lab or by the basketball court.)
The school is filling up by the time I get there. I see that other kids are there and breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing that I have plenty of time before my first period class starts.
Dad says Jem and I have to prepare for our bar mitzvahs this weekend, so he'll be picking us up and taking us to Hebrew school. And what a joy that's going to be, especially if my friends don't know anything about my Jewish heritage. I bet they would laugh at me if they knew I was Jewish.
Wait a minute; I don't care about what people think.
Anyway, when the time comes for me to get to class, I see my friends John Holt and Clayton Bingham waving to me from across the hall. John likes to be called Milton, which I think is rather dumb. I mean, why would you want to call yourself by a name that could get you beaten up in the mean halls of middle school? There's not a day that goes by without him being pushed around by some heartless normal-named kid or said kid calling him bad names on the account of him calling himself "Milton". (Luckily, he has me to back him up, so it's not too bad.)
As for Clayton, he's the big football jock all the girls want to date and all the guys want to be like. (But not me; I'd rather be scrawny than buff, which says something about my masculinity.) Clayton is everything I'm not and what the average guy should be. He's tall where I'm short, athletic where I avoid sports like the plague, and has average grades when I make straight A's.
In short, Clayton and I are as different as night and day. While I have blond hair and blue eyes, Clayton (like his parents and younger brothers) has brown hair and brown eyes. Milton, however, looks like he comes from a completely different family because of his red hair and green eyes. (Sometimes, I bet he wished he came from a different family, as his parents and siblings Janeen, Michael, and Alexandra have dark hair and green eyes while his twin sister Barbara has reddish-brown hair and gray eyes.)
Anyway, when I see them, I have to make my excuses about why we won't be hanging out at the skate park this afternoon. Milton laughs, but Clayton shuts him up, saying, "It's not nice to make fun of Jewish people."
"Why not?" said Milton as several students glare at him, most of them plotting to beat him up after class.
"Because Jesus was Jewish," said Clayton as a matter of fact. "Now shut up and for God's sake, don't interrupt Mrs. Jolson today."
Milton muttered "Yeah, whatever," as he took his seat, but Clayton and I worry about him. After all, Milton has the bat-shit crazy sister named Barbara; she's a pain-in-the-ass. (I mean, if I had a sister like Barbara, I'd go crazy too. It's already hard enough being the middle child of a family of five children, so why would you want to throw your weird sister into the mix?)
Just then, the bell rings; it's time for class to begin. I just hope Milton is wise enough to keep his mouth shut. Mrs. Jolson can't handle any more interruptions from him today.
Rabbi Jacobs is so difficult!
Today, he had me recite the story about some king's innocent son who dies; everyone mourns for the boy because he was the only one of the king's children to die a natural death. I just hope that it's not me who dies so sudden. (That would totally suck if it happened to me.)
Yet, he's kinder to Jem, who recites the poem describing a virtuous woman. If anything, Jem is anything BUT virtuous. I've already discovered the names of several boys that she kicked to the side after some analyzation of said boys, but it's not my business who she chooses to deal with. The less I know about her, the better.
After lessons are over and Rabbi Jacobs sends us home with orders to read the verses he assigned to us for the mitzvahs, dad comes to get us and take us home. By that time, mom has prepared dinner and Kieran is coloring in one of his coloring books in the living room. As a rule, our family doesn't eat a lot of meat, but we eat fish once a week. This week, mom has prepared fish casserole for dinner tonight.
Yuck!
After dinner ends, just before I go to the dining room to do my homework, Jem pulls me aside and tells me, "I'm not your personal secretary." I said to her, "What are you talking about?" She says something like, "Adrian and Dorian Johansson had been calling your phone while we were at lessons."
I groan internally; Adrian and Dorian Johansson are a set of twins whose main purpose is to make the rest of everyone's lives a living hell. Like Jem and me, they look alike, with their blond hair, gray eyes, and pale skin. They always wear black clothes. They smoke, drink, tell dirty jokes, and beat up any student who dares to cross their path. (I'm not going to tell you that Milton is the guy they often beat up.) The twins have a disabled younger sister named Lucy, who's often called Lulu. She's hardly seen outside the house unless it's going to church or to therapy.
"Why are they calling me this late in the evening?" I cried out, knowing that I didn't like them and they often went out of their way to harass me. No one, not the teachers, could stop them from doing what they wanted to do.
"I don't know," said Jem, "but I'm sure that whatever it is, it might have something to do with that friend of yours."
"You mean Milton?" I cried out.
"Yes," said Jem. "So you better answer their call right now or else they'll come after you. They'll tear up your dress before you can say one word."
"Yeah right," I scoffed as I stared at her. I then went to my room and called Clayton; he's the only person I know who could get the twins to yield. Clayton said, "Let me guess, they're harassing you again."
"What am I going to do with them?" I cried out. "It's like they won't stop bothering us until they have us bowing down to them. How can we stop them?"
"I don't know," said Clayton, "but my mom is a member of the school board."976Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYRWXPORdng
"What does *THAT* have to do with anything?" I cried out.
"Well, if I told my mother about how the twins are harassing everyone at the school, maybe she could get them to stop," said Clayton.
"And what if that doesn't work?" I said. "What do we do then?"
"Then we can ask Claire Evans to annoy the crap out of them," said Clayton.
I swore if I wasn't on the phone with him and he was saying that phrase in person, I would have slapped him across the face with a pillow. "Claire Evans? You mean, Crazy Claire?" I yelled. "Do you have any idea of what you're talking about? Are you insane? What makes you think SHE can stop the twins?"
"You don't think she can do it?" said Clayton.
"I don't believe she's capable of anything like what we're suggesting," I said.
"Believe it, Jed," said Clayton. "Girlfriend has the dirt on everyone at the school. Why, I bet she might know some dirty secrets about the twins they don't want her to reveal. If that's true, they might pay her money to keep their secrets secret."
Well, he wasn't wrong there. Claire was the girl who sits in a corner, not speaking to anyone, and pretends that the world doesn't exist. Or that's what I thought she did. After all, she doesn't sit in her corner and do nothing. In fact, she's notorious for repeating everything she hears, whether it's a rumor about celebrities in Hollywood to stuff happening all over the neighborhood. I know Claire has exposed more shocking things than Rush Limbaugh, and I really hate that dude.
Then again, Claire doesn't have time for bullies or their bullying ways, as I've seen her taking down people who made the fatal mistake of thinking they could mess with her. She has either gotten people in trouble for stealing her stuff (which she secretly hides in their lockers) or pushing her around or insulting her (some of those claims are fabricated, but who cares, as long as the bully is punished). Last year, she claimed she saw Aaron Galloway spray-painting "CLAIRE EVANS IS A STUPID RETARD" all over the school lockers. (It took six weeks for the janitors to completely cover the words. Aaron, however, wasn't suspended for the graffiti, but he had to do community service at a local mental hospital. I bet Claire had something to do with that, if nothing else.)
As I continued to listen to Clayton's plans to use Claire to destroy the Johanssen twins, I had a bad feeling that things were somehow going to get so much worse for everyone...
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