Stop the presses!
One of the many jocks standing in a confidence-boosting group—they actually wore their letter jackets here unironically, which felt so preciouslyGrease!it was hard not to singTell me more, tell me more!whenever Jules saw them—had the audacity to speak.
To him.
Directly.
The kid wore his hair in a military cut that screamed strict-father, and the sneer that uglied up his broad face screamed trouble.
What’s so funny?Frankly,youare. Things not to say aloud if one wanted to make friends, influence people and/ornot get the shit beaten out of him, as that old self-help book earnestly advised.
“Pretty much the entire world,” Jules said instead. And then, since an overture was an overture, plus these kids weren’t the only ones who had prejudices to overcome—he knew damn well he had his own against sneering athletes with military do’s—he made sure his smile included all of them, even MeanDad McSneerface. “I’m Jules. Cassidy. You must be... the soccer team?”
Yes, it was September and this tiny New England school didn’t play football. Just soccer and basketball, although the district was so small anyone athletic probably played on both teams.
“My dad’s father was from the UK,” Jules continued as breezily as he could manage. “They take their football very seriously—that’s what they call soccer over there.”
And... crickets chirped as no one said anything.
As Jules looked from one to another to another of the group of letter-jacket-clad boys, he saw only flashes of wariness and confusion. Clearly he wasn’t supposed to respond to McSneerface’s taunt, so now they didn’t know what to do.
Heavens! It speaks!
So he pretended to himself that they were in fact friendly, but just a tad slow. “Have a good game tomorrow, guys. Hope it doesn’t rain—I know you play regardless, that must suck when it gets colder. Yeah. Okay. Catch you later.”
It wasn’t the most graceful dismount as he ended the conversation, but he stuck it with both feet—which he then used to walk cheerfully away. Eight out of ten for Cassidy. Next time he’d stop before he babbled.Have a good game, catch you later.Enough said.
“What kind of faggot name isJules?”
Oooh-kay.
McSneerface had once again found his tongue and it was as fugly as the faces he made. Jules stopped and turned back around, still keeping his expression as friendly as he could, considering. “Oh, we don’t like that word,” he said. “F-bomb. No. Nope.”
“Says who?” was the pithy comeback.
Did gyre and gimbol in the wabe!Jules didn’t shout.
The hush in the hallway now turned into a golf-game-worthy murmur as more and more kids came to watch the new gay kid get beaten to death.Goodbye, David. I’m so glad we had our year together. I just wish you hadn’t broken my heart right at the end like that.
It was clear that McSneerface’s slow saunter in his direction was not because dude wanted to give him a welcome-to-our-school hug. So Jules readied-up, as one of his well-studied books on self-defense called it, making sure he was aware of his surroundings—particularly the kids that lined the hall around them. If McSneerface attacked, would they join in the assault? He didn’tthinkso, but then again, they’d closed ranks around him as if they were on Team McSneer, blocking the hallway and taking out Jules’s option to run.
Not that he was going to.
He hadn’t gotten this far in his life by ceding ground—he’d worked hard to teach David that. Most bullies turned and walked away if you simply looked at them hard.
Of course, there was always a first time.
God knows his mother wasn’t gonna love him getting suspended for fighting in his first week here.
But this school had a zero-tolerance rule which meant suspension even if you door-matted. Which actually made it more likely that kids like him would fight back. If he was gonna get kicked out anyway, why not punch that ass-hat smack in the middle of that sneer? He was almost lookingforward to the icing his hand would require afterwards. Or so he’d read.
“Says fucking who?” McSneerface repeated himself, adding a little flare with the other, less offensive f-bomb, clearly loving the attention from all those watching eyes.
Jules sighed.“Well, me, to start.Andevery single girl you ever want to get with.”
“The fuckyouknow about that?”
This was it. McSneerface had slowed way down, clearly expecting Jules to shit his pants while screaming, then push his way through the crowd to flee, but no. Jules’s feet were planted. He’d long since set down his backpack but now he crossed his arms for emphasis.
