Chapter I: The Tussle With Pig-Boy

Simon's first day of 7th grade is ruined when an old foe says "Hi".

Kelly poked my side. “Hey.” She poked me again, “Hey...hey Simon. Guess what?” I stirred from my deep, coma-like sleep. “The house better be on fire or something.” Groggily, I sat up on the futon and looked at her. Kelly was my eleven year old little sister, who was quite small for her age.. She had caramel brown skin and beamed warmly at me with her golden eyes. Today was her special day. Her big chance. No, not her birthday. It was the first day of school. You see, Kelly...wasn’t exactly...well...normal. She had this...thing. I pushed the thought out of my mind. Now wasn’t the time. I couldn’t think about that while Kelly was beaming so warmly. I rubbed my eyes and smiled.

I was a little lighter than Kelly, but not by much. My eyes were not as brilliant as hers and my hair was a little less curly. It sounds weird, but I was a little jealous of her. I know, I know it’s weird. But Kelly had some sort of uniqueness to her. And she was pretty much always happy. Even at the age of thirteen I had to give up being happy for the most part. Kelly was bullied a lot at school so I had to take on the “tough guy” persona at thirteen. She needed to be protected. Anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way, I took care of.

I smiled back at her. “It’s-...”

“The first day of school!” She squeaked with joy. “This year is my year! I can’t wait!”

I looked around our studio apartment. It was two bedroom, one bath and a little run down with brick walls. My mom, with the three jobs she had, barely made enough to keep this place. The thought made me angry. But I didn’t know at who. All I knew was that Mom didn’t deserve to live like this. She was too good a person. I wasn’t going to waste time getting angry about that, though. I kept my big green and tapped on her head, “Well, you better get ready, sis. I’ll get breakfast started.”

“Okay!”

I got off the futon and folded up the sheets and blankets. I carried the blankets and pillows into Kelly’s room and sat them in the corner. Then, I walked to the kitchen and put four waffles in the toaster. I opened the fridge and guzzled some orange juice straight from the carton. I set the table for me and Kelly. She came skipping out of her room in a simple blue dress, converses, and a jacket. I put her waffles on her plate for her and she sat down. I realized I was still in my boxers and laughed. “Can...erm...may I have some orange juice?” She asked.

“Sure.” I laughed. No one taught Kelly the whole manners thing. She just picked up on it on her own. I thought it was kind of funny. I stepped over to the fridge and got the orange juice. I took another big swig and got a glass from the cupboard.

“Simon, gross!” Kelly was half scolding and half laughing.

“What?”

“Get your big juju lips off of the juice!”

I wasn’t even offended...just confused, “Juju...lips?” I ran my finger across my lips.

She cackled, “Just pour my drink...please.”

I poured her some juice and sat it down for her. She sipped and giggled, “Are you gonna put pants on or…?”

“Oh, no I’m going to school like this.” I chuckled and pushed my hand through my messy, hair. I inhaled my breakfast and went to the shower. It was quick...and cold. I dried and then put on some tattered black jeans, black boots, a gray shirt and my leather jacket. I fixed up my mohawk a little and got my backpack ready. “Didn’t save me any hot water, huh?” I smirked.

“Oh...I um...you see...I...sorry.” Kelly was quite embarrassed.

“I’m just teasing, squirt.”

“Squirt?” She punched me in the arm, “I’m not even that short.”

“Whatever, Kell.”

***

“Hey! Hey, Si! Kelly!” That’s best friend Dylan Pennan, catching up with me and Kelly as we walked to school. He was black with hazel eyes and had short, jet black hair. He was wearing sneakers, blue jeans, an orange shirt, and a gray hoodie. “How’ve you guys been?”

“Oh, you know...just about the same as two months ago.” I answered. Every summer, Dylan would disappear. Okay...maybe not that dramatic. Apparently, every summer he’d go to North Carolina and spend time with his mom. I’d hung out with them a few times. Dylan’s mom was very...nurturing. Almost like everyone was her child or something. Dylan sort of acted the same...sorta. Not like he was everyone’s mom or anything. He played the mediator a lot. He didn’t like to pick sides, but when it came to me and Kelly, well he defended us without question.

“You’re hilarious, Si.” Dylan replied dryly. He poked Kelly, “And how have you been, Kells?”

“Great! How was North Carolina?”

“It was fantastic! I have a little present for you after school!”

“Really?” Kelly’s eyes widened with joy.

“Duh...you didn’t expect me to forget about you over summer, did you?” Dylan put his hand on her head in a strange, but sort of loving gesture.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched. Dylan looked behind us and wrinkled his nose. “Let’s...uh...walk faster, guys.” He said it quite nervously. I didn’t question him...but I wanted to know what got him so nervous. We made our way to school, which was a giant, U-shaped, three story building called “Aaron Jackson’s Elementary and Junior High”.  I still don’t know who Aaron Jackson is. I wonder if he knew his school was full of people unfit for society. When we stepped in the door, people were staring at us.

Everyone had heard the stories about the freak, her brother, and their friend. I’m referring to us, in case you didn’t know. That’s when I saw someone I’d hated since the second grade. Someone so irritatingly stupid that I wanted to punch his lights out, Leroy Berwick. He was pudgy with eyes so black, you’d think they were holes in his head. He had pale, white skin, a low IQ, and sandy blond hair that was thinning already. Last year, I’d called him Leroy Bird-sh...well you get the idea. It lead to a major fight and he was sent to a “correctional school” for the rest of the year. His chubby, baby-cow legs marched toward us and I knew we were in for one heck of a year.

Leroy was now standing in front of us, his pig-snout nose, inches away from me. When he opened his mouth it smelled like beef jerky and pork-rinds. I tried my best not to gag as he spoke, “Hey, it’s Simon Fail and his sister the freak.” Kelly squeaked as the oinking bully addressed her. Using all my willpower not to retch, I responded, “What do you want, bacon-boy?” He lifted one of his greasy, bratwurst fingers and poked my chest. “What’d you call me, punk?” His breath was enough to kill a herd of buffalo. I coughed, “Ack! Leave us alone, you mud-bathing, sweat-beast.” I was never that good at insults. He wrapped one of his pig-mitts around my shirt, pulling me dangerously close. He lifted his fist. “Simon!” Kelly yelped.

“Get your hog-hoof off my shirt!” I yelled and pulled back.

“I’m gonna beat you till you’re black and blue!” He thundered with the breath of a thousand dead animals.

I’m pretty sure my face was turning green by this point. I fought the urge to vomit and gripped his sweaty, greasy shoulders, ready to headbutt him, “Bring it on!” Something caught Leroy’s demon eyes and he let me go. “At lunch, you’re dead meat.” He snarled.

“What’re you gonna do, breathe on me?” Yeah, I have a problem with talking too much. I noticed a teacher walking passed Leroy, giving him the be-on-your-best-behavior look

He growled and for a second I thought he’d stamp his piggy ham-hock and charge at me. But he trotted off. I turned to Dylan, who had been ready to step in as soon as a punch was thrown. “I guess he’s going back to the feeding slop.” I joked. Dylan struggled, but he cracked a smile and started laughing. “You’re such an idiot, Simon!” He laughed. Kelly gave me a nervous smile. “Let’s get you to class”, I smiled back at her.

***

We dropped Kelly off and headed to our own classes. I fist-bumped Dylan goodbye and went to my first period class. And to my disappointment, there was the swine in a boy-suit, chomping on potato chips. Leroy Berwick was in my first class. It was English class of about eight students, all sitting around a circular table, while Leroy was pilfering his meaty fingers into a bag of potato chips. It was disgusting. And to top it all off, the only seat that was empty was right next to him. I sighed and walked into the room right when the tardy bell rang. I took my seat next to Leroy, who grunted amusedly. Our teacher sighed and wrote his name on the board. “My name...is Mister Butts”, he said. The whole class started laughing. Except for me. I was holding my breath, praying that Leroy’s foul stench didn’t enter my nostrils.

“Yep laugh it up. Very funny.” I groaned. I felt bad for the guy.

“Is your first name Seymour?” A student hooted.

He looked confused. “Seymour...Butts?”

The class erupted into hysterics. Mr. Butts glared at the student. “Oh you are so getting detention for that!”

As Mr. Butts (okay, it’s pretty freaking funny) wrote down the detention slip, Leroy passed a note to me. I read his chicken scratch (though mine was only a little better) and it said, “YOU ARE DED.”

I glared at him, “Dead has an ‘a’ in it, you idiot!”

“No, ‘cause then it would sound like deed. Read a book, Simon Fail.” He snorted his piggy laugh and I almost puked.

After that ordeal, I went on to my next few classes. Most of which were awful. I’m numerically challenged so I suck at math. I can’t even remember my own birthday, so the dates in U.S History completely escaped me. I can’t even wrap my mind around science. The only fun class was gym. Just because of dodgeball and I got to throw stuff at Leroy. It sucked that I didn’t have any classes with Dylan yet, but I was happy to see him and Kelly in the courtyard after the lunch bell rang. Across from the courtyard, separating the junior high students from the elementary students was a big, chain-link fence. Dylan and Kelly always got to the courtyard first and Kelly would sneak into the junior high area. She sat there laughing with him. I smiled, seeing her happy.

It was a nice day. Clear, blue skies and sun. It wasn’t too hot. But hot enough for me to take my jacket off. I sat next to Kelly and we talked about our classes. It was nice for a while, but then I felt something drip on my head. Cold, wet, sticky. Leroy Berwick stood above, dumping a can of Coke-Zero on my head. My blood started pumping. I balled my fists and stood up to face the bane of my existence. “Si, don’t!” Dylan sounded really nervous. Clouds were forming in the sky, but I didn’t care. I shoved Leroy so hard, that he fell back into his goons, who were knocked down like bowling pins. Strike! I thought.

“You’re dead, punk!” He growled and got up so fast, I was shocked. He grabbed me by my shirt and threw me to the ground. I was even more shocked by his strength (but he’d be shocked by mine) as I landed face-first on the ground, busting my lower lip. I got to my hands and knees, trembling. Not with fear. But with anger. I got all the way up and brushed myself off. I glared hard at him and felt wind lifting my hair up. The clouds got lower and darker as I balled my fists. I felt energy course through my body and I did something even I thought was dumb. I leaped forward and tackled Leroy Berwick to the ground. For some reason I felt lighter. There was some sort of force driving me. I landed on top of him with my fist raised. There was thunder and lightning really close as I screamed, “Stay away from me! Stay away from Dylan! And stay! Away! From! Kelly!”

Leroy looked so terrified he might cry. I got off of him, feeling completely burned out and looked to where I thought Kelly and Dylan were. I looked further back. Twenty feet away, Dylan was in awe and Kelly looked scared. I got off of Leroy who sort of limp-galloped to the nurse, hand holding his waist. The storm died down only a little as people were muttering, “The freak’s brother is a freak!” And, “Dude...” And of my favorite, “Do you think he could like...kill someone?”

Dylan grabbed Kelly’s hand and speed walked towards me. “We’re out of here, now!” He said. Dylan grabbed me by the arm and we left school.

***

Author's Note

I'll come back and edit this. Tell me what you think please. I know it might suck. But bear with me hair. I'm working on the whole writer thing.