My Daddy "The Fonz"

Chapter 11/Part 1: Spike's Game

A/N: sorry it's so short, but I prefer shorter parts personally. Enjoy!

Bobby's POV:
So guess what? I'm sitting in my seat, ready for class, and I find Spike. I ask the teacher why he's here, and she says he's going to be staying for a while.

Hmm, staying where?

Just before the bell rings, I decide to come up to him. "So why are you here?"

Spike looks at me and huffs. "Nice to see you too. Don't ya miss me?"

"Not really. You got me in trouble. You should have got in trouble too, but you didn't."

Spike's POV:
Hell, this kid's got no idea. But I'd like to keep it that way. Man, if only he knew how hard his dad can punish. He probably gets it easy.

"Don't talk about stuff you don't understand, kid. I'm much older than you. I shouldn't even be here, but they're forcing me to. Now stop talking to me before you embarrass me. Go sit down."

The teacher glares at me. "Everyone should be sitting down. The bell's about to ring."

I do as I'm told, but there's no way I'm gonna stay in this stupid school. It smells like sweat and onions. I'd much rather be working with Fonzie at his shop. Making money. This is pointless.

The teacher drones on and on about the weather and environment and whatever—I don't know 'caus I stopped paying attention. I'm not ever gonna need this stuff.

Here's the thing: when I get bored, I make up stuff to do. First thing on my list is to see how much fun I can squeeze out of Bobby. Sure, he's across the room, but I like a challenge.
My go to is a slingshot. All it takes is my shoelace and a piece of chewed gum, and well, you get the picture. Fun city. Fun for me at least.

The process? Chew the gum. Position the gum. Pull back. Pull back more. Aim. Fire!

Darn. The gum lands on the floor below his desk. He doesn't even notice. That's why I always carry at least two gum balls on me. I can't miss a second time, right?

Out of luck. Missed.

This time, it lands right in front of him, completely clearing his head. My goal was to hit him without him noticing. Awe well. There's always a plan B.
Plan B: make it look like it's Bobby's fault.

Bobby's eyes meet mine, and I smile. He knows it was me. His chin turns into a pathetic little pout, and he points directly at me. "Teacher, Spike threw gum at me!"

The teacher stops what she's doing to shut him up. "Stop picking on the new kid, Bobby. And you know that lying is wrong. Now, pay attention."

"No, it's true! See?" Bobby holds up the piece of gum.

"Oh, Bobby, that's disgusting! Throw that away and wash your hands!"
This is too funny. Playing out better than I thought it would.

Bobby does this weird, frustrated growl and throws the gum back at me before stomping toward the classroom sink.

Uh oh. He's in trouble now.

The teacher sighs. "Excuse me, Bobby? If you're going to act like you're two, then you can go ahead and march yourself to the principal's office. Right now. Don't make me walk you there."

"But it wasn't me! It was him!" Bobby glares at me with all the hate he can muster. This is too hilarious. I'm enjoying this.

I raise my hand like the good student I am. "I can take him, Teach. He's my cousin. I'll make sure he gets there safely."

"Oh, that's very sweet of you, honey, but I think he can handle it. Right, Bobby? Go."

"No. It's not my fault!" Bobby does this really immature thing where he lays down on the floor and rolls around a bunch when he doesn't get his way.

"Alright, Bobby, I'm calling your daddy to come get you."

Well, shit. I only wanted to give him a hard time, not kill him by wrath of the Fonz. Geez, why do all my plans backfire?