by Megan Linski
Uncle Logan’s still in bed… like he is every morning. He wanted to be a teacher, but he dropped out of college and became a blue-collar worker when he couldn’t afford his loans.
As for Aunt Sara, she pulls her weight as a maid most of the time and as a waitress the rest. Her clothes are usually wrinkled and worn.
But I gotta admit, despite my aunt and uncle being flat-ass broke, living with them is one-hundred percent better than living with my stuck-up rich parents.
We’re quiet so we don’t disturb my uncle. Aunt Sara pretends to be bright and cheery. Even so, there are bags under her eyes.
“Move it, Raz,” Aunt Sara says as I come into the kitchen. She’s packing my lunch. I make my way around her quickly. “You’re going to miss your ride. Get something to eat and go.”
She doesn’t even comment on my outfit. I think she’s too tired to notice, even though these colors literally punch your eyes in the face.
When I told my family I wanted to be called Razberry instead of Mildfreud, everybody (except my parents) had taken to it really quickly, even though it was ridiculous. I think all my relatives hated my given name just as much as I did.
I had never really called myself Mildfreud. Ever since I was a kid, I always considered myself nameless, without an identity. I fit into Razberry Sweet like a glove, and for some reason, it stuck with me.
I look inside the fridge. There isn’t much. I sigh and grab some fruit. Aunt Sara goes back into her bedroom to sleep. I run back upstairs to grab my bag and stuff down my breakfast.
Dawn’s coming up on the farm. Strange. The sun never rises this early…
I look outside the window and panic. The bus is here already! I grab my bag and run out the door as I watch Mitzy board the yellow monster. I scream desperately, “Hey, wait!”
I’m pretty fast, but our driveway is really long. It takes a good five minutes just to get down the thing. By the time that I’ve run halfway there the bus is already cruising the road. I slam to a halt and watch as it slowly drives away.
“Dammit. Perfect, Raz,” I groan. I run my hands through my hair and try not to panic.
I think about my options. There is no way I’m taking the car. Uncle Logan would freak, and if I get caught driving the cops will probably suspend my license for the rest of history. After all, my record isn’t exactly clean.
I’m not about to wake up my aunt and uncle and get a lecture about how irresponsible I am. I can’t skip. The rules for me staying here include not missing school unless I’m sick. It’s too far to walk, and I’ll still be late.
“Well isn’t this great,” I mumble under my breath. Time is ticking and I have no pleasant option.
I glance at the barn. An idea forms in my head. Why didn’t I think of it before? It’s a crazy, stupid idea, but I want to make a great first impression, right? There’s no better way to do it. I start walking toward the barn, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Once I reach our big red barn I throw down my bag and yank the broken door open.
Cobwebs reign supreme in the rafters alongside the dark and the dust. There’s a lot of creepy stuff in here, lots of old farm equipment. It’d be perfect for the scene of a horror movie… or a great place to make out. I’ve never been kissed before, but I figure it would be the right place for a kiss, because that’s what they do in all the movies.
“Hello Buddy!” I shout to my friend, interrupting my flow of thoughts. “How you doing this morning?”
I get a whinny in response. Buddy is a small gray horse, with a tiny head and long legs. He sorts of looks like me (if I were a horse, I guess) but he’s even lazier than I am. He must think I’m here to feed him or put him out in the pasture. He’s in for a surprise. Moosie and Mumbly, our two old dairy cows, are the only other animals in the barn. They make loud noises as I pass them by.
“Be quiet,” I whisper. “You’re going to give me away.”
In the corner of the barn there’s an old farming tractor. I’m not even sure if it still runs, but you don’t need a license to drive a tractor, so it’s my only hope. I wonder how weird it would be to ride in on a tractor on the first day of school, but hey, I live in a hick town now, right? Do hick town things.
I fire up the tractor and wince as the loud machine roars to life. Climbing aboard, I maneuver the tractor carefully out of the barn and onto the gravel driveway. I shut the barn door before I drive onto the country road, hoping that my aunt and uncle don’t wake up.
The old tractor is backfiring, spitting out smoke and making loud creaks as it moves. It probably hasn’t been used since the 1950s. I’m surprised there’s still gas in it.
I roll my eyes and keep it moving. “Come on, you piece of crap,” I tell it. “We’re almost there.”
I come to my destination. Limesville. The hill I sit on top of gives me a full view of the quaint little place. Typical boring, small town. A couple shops on Main Street, a few churches, a bar, and a tiny spit of a lake.
God, it’s like the setting of a Hallmark movie. Of all the places to send me to, Mom and Dad had to pick here.
I come to the Limesville High School parking lot. Every teenager around turns and stares up at me with an open mouth, unable to believe that the new guy with the yellow pants is actually driving a tractor to school. I turn it off and jump down from the tractor, beaming as I lift my bag onto my shoulders.
A group catches my eye. Four kids are standing around a black Mustang nearby. One of them is broad, dressed in army camo with muscles so huge I wonder how he fits in the car. An extremely tall kid leans against the car next to him, carrying a trombone. A girl with glasses is reading out of a textbook, adjusting her skirt and blabbing on about some scientific gibberish I don’t understand.
I don’t notice the last one until she turns to look at me. She’s tiny, miniature, even, and has these huge, puppy brown eyes that suck me in the minute I see her.
She’s cute. Really cute. I try not to blush as I give her a small smile.
“Aw, great,” she complains. “The new kid.”
“Leave him alone, Carmen,” the big kid says. “He’s cool enough to ride in here on a tractor looking like that. This kid’s got balls.”
“Or he’s insane,” the smart girl quips, staring at me.
I hesitate, unsure of what to say back. I’m good at putting my foot in my mouth. I don’t want to be seen as awkward or a freak.
Then I make up my mind. I’m going to be the daring one. The weird one, the one who isn’t afraid to say anything or do anything. The crazy one.
Don’t give a damn about anybody, Bethany says in my head. I raise my sunglasses and say, “I’m Razberry Sweet.”
“Is that your real name?” Carmen says, and she raises her eyebrows. “Or did you just make that up?”
“Nope. It’s real, on my birth certificate and everything,” I lie. “And if you’re gonna hang with me, you have to have just as cool of names as I do.”
“We’re definitely not hanging out with you,” she says, gesturing to her friends. “And can you stop talking to us? People are staring.”
“So what? Let them stare,” I say, and I shrug. “They should be staring, if you’re with me.”
“Okay…” Carmen says slowly. She taps her foot on the ground. “Are you done? Because this is taking up my time.”
“You’re Puppy,” I say, giving her the nickname instantly. I walk up to her and sling my arm around her shoulder like I’ve known her since grade school. I have no idea where this new found cockiness is coming from, but I like it. “And we’re going to be best friends.”
“I’m Carmen, not Puppy,” she says sharply, dodging out from under my arm.
“No,” I say. “You’re Puppy.” I dare to give her a wink. “And that’s Soldier, and that’s Zoar, and that’s Pepper.” I point to the large army kid, the tall kid, and the smart girl in turn.
“Um, aren’t you going to ask us our real names?” the tall kid asks.
“Nope,” I say happ
ily. “My names are better.”
“You can call us whatever you like,” the sassy girl says. “Just don’t talk to us.”
“I think it’s kinda cool, actually,” the giant adds. “Soldier is a lot better than Greg.”
“Of course it is,” the smart girl says, shaking her head. She taps a finger against her lips, and shrugs. “Whatever. I like Pepper better than Sing-Chow, anyway. More Americanized.”
“Zoar is weird. But if that’s what you’re gonna call me, I don’t really care,” the band geek says.
I turn triumphantly to Carmen. She lets out a giant groan and says, “Fine. Call me Puppy, Razberry Sweet. But I swear if any of you guys call me that, I’ll kill you.”
I can’t believe it. This asinine, ridiculous act is actually winning them over.
The bell rings and the group turns to head to class. I walk with them. The hallways are filled with whispers and stares as I swagger through the halls.
“Can you not walk with us? We’re not your friends,” Puppy hisses.
“Of course you are.” I laugh. “And it looks like I’m attracting a lot of attention.”
“Hey, pretty boy!” a jock cries out. “Nice outfit!”
The group around me cringes. Inwardly, I feel sick, remembering how Cayman tormented me at Tinyork.
But I’ll die before I let that happen again, so in true Bethany style I stick my middle finger in the air and say, “Thanks, dick! I’ll let you borrow it next time!”
The jock’s mouth drops open. I hold my head held high in the air. Nobody dares to take another crack at me.
Beside me, Soldier laughs. “That was great,” he says. “I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Kevin.”
“Well, now you just did,” I say. I glance at Puppy and see she’s trying not to laugh. The corners of her mouth are upturning.
“Aw, come on,” I say. “You know that was funny.”
“It was. Maybe keeping you around isn’t such a bad idea after all,” she says.
My attention drifts away from Puppy as someone else catches my eye. There’s a girl in a really, really short skirt standing at the edge of the hallway, twirling her hair around her finger and ogling some guy next to her locker.
She’s gorgeous. But definitely out of my league.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Makeout Maymee,” Pepper informs me. “At least, that’s what we call her. She’s been with every guy in the school. She and Puppy have hated each other since kindergarten.”
“Really? She doesn’t seem that bad,” I say. My eyes are still fixed on her.
Maymee gives me a quick once-over. She stares for a moment and gives a little giggle at my outfit before she returns her attention to the dude next to her.
“If I ever hear you say that again you are definitely out of the group,” Puppy says violently. She looks like she wants nothing more than to pull Maymee’s hair out.
“So I’m officially part of the group then? Great!” I say. Puppy moans.
As we come closer, Maymee’s eyes connect with mine. The cheer from her is gone. She stares at me for a second before she glances down at the floor and bites her lip.
I give her an encouraging smile and nod. She doesn’t see.
I don’t understand what’s so evil about her. I suppose I’ll have to learn. Then again, I don’t want to get involved if she’s this school’s brand of Bethany.
“Oh look,” Soldier says. “It’s the Warden.”
“You mean Boss Max?” Zoar says to him.
“I prefer the term Goose-a-nator,” Pepper adds with a little snicker “And it looks like he’s coming this way.”
“Who?” I say, turning to all of them.
“Principal Max Goose,” Puppy whispers to me. “You’re in trouble now.”
I look over Puppy’s head to see a fat man who looks somewhat like a duck waddling toward us with a grumpy look on his face.
Maximum Goose, I think. I’m unable to stop myself from cracking a smile.
He notices and stops by me, folding his arms. “Mister Sweet,” he says. “Is that your tractor outside?”
“Well, technically it’s not mine, but I drove it here,” I say. “Any other questions, Miami Vice?”
Puppy smacks herself in the head. I really shouldn’t be pushing it with authority since my little run in with the law last summer. But I’m having too much fun with my persona to quit now.
Without a second thought Goose whips out some little notepad and scribbles something on it. He rips out a piece of paper and hands it to me. “You can’t drive tractors to school. That’s detention for you. After school, no exceptions. Now get to class.”
I open my mouth to protest but then snap it shut. It’s not worth arguing with him. He turns into his office quickly and looks around shiftily before closing the shades.
“What a jerk,” I say. “Giving me detention on my first day, and I haven’t even been in class yet.”
“You don’t want to push your luck with Goose,” Soldier says. “He’ll take any excuse to put your head on a plate, even if you are new.”
The bell rings again. Everyone separates to go to their classes. I look at my schedule, feeling completely confused. “Where’s Art?” I ask. “That’s my first hour.”
“You’re with me, unfortunately,” Puppy sighs. “Just follow me.”
I follow her and take my place next to Puppy in the small classroom. The teacher blabs on for a couple minutes before we start working on watercolor paintings.
Bored with this already, I decide to not put in any effort and just smear paint all over my paper in random splotches.
“Is that really the best you can do?” Puppy asks.
“Lighten up and have some fun,” I say. I take my finger and smudge a bit of paint on her nose. I can’t believe how ballsy I’m being. The shy kid at Tinyork must’ve died over the summer.
I know he did.
She glares at me and wipes it off quickly. “If you don’t start working a little harder you’re going to fail Art.”
“How can you possibly fail Art?” I ask. I wave my hand and nearly tip over her glass of water. She catches it just in time before it ruins her painting.
Shit. Being the cool guy is going to be really hard with how clumsy I am. I’d forgotten that part.
She gives me an irritated look and I say, “Sorry. But really, we’re in art class. It’s all a matter of opinion when it comes to art, right?”
“Not necessarily.” She stabs the paper with her brush.
“Who says? You can’t exactly prove it,” I say. “It’s obviously apparent that in this town nobody knows talent when they see it.” I give her another wink.
“Talent? You?” Puppy snorts.
“Girl, believe me,” I tell her lowly. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
* * *
Today, I’m definitely in my element. I’ve never taken acting lessons, but it doesn’t matter. I have everyone fooled into thinking I’m some cocky, self-assured jerk who has the world at his fingers.
After my second class I duck into the bathroom, already feeling exhausted. Can I really keep up with this for a whole year? Acting like this, wearing a mask, is really starting to wear on me.
But I don't’ have a choice. This is the character I’ve decided to play, and I’m damn well going to see the act through.
All 180 school days of it.
“Dude, let’s go,” Soldier says, punching me playfully in the shoulder at my locker two hours later at lunchtime. “You take forever.”
I’m glad to see how quickly Soldier and Zoar have accepted me. Now I just have to get the girls to do the same. By the time we make it down to the lunchroom Puppy is eating next to Pepper, who’s writing a paper.
“Science homework?” I ask, and I slide in the chair next to her. “Why are you doing that so early?”
“I want to get it done,” Pepper says. “Unlike some people who enjoy screwing off.” She looks at Soldier teasingly.
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“Nerd,” Soldier jokes.
“I actually like science,” Pepper says with a side swipe at Soldier.
“As shown by the four different science classes you’re taking this year,” I say as I take a look at her schedule. “When are the aliens who dropped you off here going to pick you up?”
“As soon as they take you back,” Pepper says.
“Touché,” I smile. I look around me, realizing something’s missing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say. “I forgot my lunch.”
“Go buy it,” Zoar shrugs, chomping on a sandwich.
“I don’t have any money on me,” I say, panicking. My cool guy persona is fading fast.
“Potluck!” Soldier says. “I don’t like apples. You can have mine.”
“And my yogurt.” Pepper tosses a cup at me.
“And the other half of my sandwich. My mom always packs too much,” Puppy complains.
“I don’t want this water anyway,” Zoar says, and he rolls an Aquafina toward me.
I smile at them all, trying not to reveal how touched I really am. Nobody ever offered to share their lunch with me before. “You guys are the best. Remind me to thank you someday when I’m famous.”
“Sure,” Puppy says, rolling her eyes with a laugh. “Whatever you say.”
The bottle of water is being stubborn. I wrestle with it for a minute or two before Soldier asks, “You want me to get that?”
“No, no, I’ve got it,” I insist, and I get to my feet. I stumble into the chair and trip over it, rolling onto the floor as the bottle of water explodes… all over my pants.
Half the cafeteria is laughing at me. They were attracted by the loud noise I made with the chair.
But instead of running away, like I would at Tinyork, I get up and take a bow. They all nearly fall out of their seats with hysterics.
“You’re popular,” Zoar says. “And it’s only your first day.”
