apprehensive but bubbling: “How’s it hanging, Crotch?”
One foot after another, around the corner, my unfortunate nickname chirping in my wake. From the corner of my eye I saw the wall of flesh called Rhino. I watched my feet pick up speed.
“Crotch,” Rhino purred pleasantly. There was a blur of motion. Then my testicles seemed to explode. My folder dropped from my hand; distantly I saw multicolored paper, including Laverne’s salmon packet, fan across the tile. Heat knifed my gut. Cold tears sprang from my eyes. My hands instinctively clasped at my balls. There was laughter but it was muted in a storm of pain. I took a shuddering step to the side and my foot landed on one of the salmon-colored papers and slid out from under me. I fell to my knees. Blood: I swore I could feel it pumping from my ruptured scrotum. My body curled in on itself like a worm.
The bell rang. Somewhere a class was beginning without me. My hot forehead pivoted against the cold floor. “Crotch”—I should have seen this coming. The rest of the week, the month, the year: the horror film of my life played out before me. I would never be safe.
I hauled myself up with help from a fire extinguisher. Not caring who might be watching, I stuck a gentle hand down the front of my shorts and checked for damage. There was only swelling. I limped down the hall and gingerly lowered myself down twenty stairs. The cafeteria, the pay phone—it took me five more minutes to get there. I prayed for enough money in the return-change slot to augment the change in my pocket. A miracle: it was there. I gripped the icy coins in my sweaty fist and almost cried.
Quarters and dimes rattled home. My finger banged through a familiar sequence.
“Boris here.”
“Boris!” My voice sounded throttled. “It’s Joey.”
“Joey, shit. I didn’t recognize the number,” he said. “How you doing? You’re in luck, they let us sit outside for study hall. Everyone’s texting and shit. Mr. Tepper doesn’t even care, it’s great.”
“Great,” I said, my shoulders quaking. Boris did sound great, so normal, so happy. I knew the meager hill of sun-blasted grass that he was sitting on and could almost feel its dog-pelt texture.
“So what’s up? How’s Iowa?”
I snorted back tears and tried to focus on the doodles of penises and breasts that covered the base of the phone. “It’s bad, Boris. I want to come home.”
“Don’t give me that. How bad can it be? I bet you can play circles around those Glenn Miller jackasses.”
“Boris, I’m serious,” I said, and something in my voice shut him up. “Things are going real bad. I don’t know what’s happened. It’s like … Boris, no one here likes me.” This was grossly inadequate, but I found myself unable to put it any better.
“Okay,” Boris said. “Okay, take it easy. How can you say no one likes you? No one likes anyone after two days.”
“Boris, you know the kind of kids … the kids that get tortured? Pushed down the stairs and stuff?”
“Alfie Sutherland,” Boris said instantly. “Mac Hill. I haven’t seen Alfie, though—I think he might’ve transferred.”
“That’s me,” I said urgently. I eyed a teacher who was passing the cafeteria. He glanced at me and slowed. It had to be obvious that I was ditching class. I angled myself toward the wall. “Boris, that’s me. Like Alfie, worse than Alfie. Things have gone all crazy.”
There was a pause on his end. Through the receiver I heard an unmuffled car rip by and girls scream in delight. “Look, let’s not go overboard here,” he said. “It’s been two freaking days, man. I think you’re getting a little worked up.”
Rage enveloped me. “Fuck off. You don’t know. I haven’t eaten in two days.”
“Wait, what about your dad? He’s not feeding you?”
“My dad? This is all his fault!” It came out loud and shot across the cafeteria. “I saw him for like two seconds when I got here and now he’s gone. There’s no food anywhere. I don’t have any money. I don’t know when he’s coming back. I’m sleeping on the floor. I tried to get money out of a purse and got caught.”
I clawed the plastic handle of the phone and took a deep breath. The teacher who had passed earlier now swerved back into sight, leading a woman in a stiff blue suit. They were heading straight for me.
“Did you say a purse?” Boris asked. “Whose purse? And you’re