I Tried to Kill My Dumb Friend and Now I'm on Probation

Chapter 6: Shut Up

Do you ever get the feeling like your own best friend is about to brutally dismember your reputation without even realizing it? Well if you do, then you probably know where I'm coming from. I mean, don't get me wrong: my social life never did have the prettiest little face you ever did see, and I'm not much of a stickler for looks, but still. It's not like I need to have Billy shoving it head-first into a blazing pottery kiln.

For the first few moments, Billy's statement makes me freeze. Then, I start running towards him as fast as I can.

"The thing is," Billy says, "Mandy and me-"

"Stop!" I scream. "Shuuuuut... uuuuup!"

Billy turns around. "Mandy...?"

Before either of us has time to think, I leap forward, knocking into him and throwing us both to the ground.

"Mandy?! What are you doing?" he gasps, eyes wide in shock.

"What am I doing?" I repeat. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm telling them," he answers. "They got's to know sooner or later!"

"Are you kidding me?! Billy, these people don't need to know anything about that!"

"Yes, they do!" he shouts. "And you would never have even let them talk about it!" He tries to push me off of him, but I manage to hold him down.

"It's none of their business, you idiot!" I yell in his face. "You're just confused because you're stupid!" From the corner of my eye, I can see a ring of spectators begin to form around us. Well, great. We must make a pretty entertaining show. Billy fights my grasp until he manages to roll me onto my back.

"Just let me say it, Mandy!" he yells.

"No!" I yell louder. "Shut up! Just shut up!"

I roll him over again and he tries to kick my stomach.

"Get off!"

"Not until you shut up!"

"Not until you get off!"

He grabs my wrist and squeezes, and I start punching him with my free hand. Not before long, we're fighting like two elementary school kids. Our make-shift audience starts cheering and shouting. "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" they chant. Someone starts throwing bits of their lunch at us.

Billy reaches for my hair and pulls.

"Oww!" I yell. "That's cheating!" I punch his stomach.

"Hey! You're cheating, too, you cheater!" Billy screeches.

I'm about to reach for his neck when I feel someone grab my arms from behind. Billy and I keep kicking wildly at each other before we realize we're being dragged apart. Slowly our aggression fizzles away as it comes to us that we've been momentarily restrained. We grow quiet, glancing around at the people now surrounding us.

I look at the man holding Billy. It's Coach, who works as a lunch monitor every other weekday. I look at the person behind me. It's the lady who served me my creamed corn about fifteen minutes ago. She hands me off to Coach as well, who escorts us both to the deans' office.

We sit down in a couple of metal folding chairs, still glaring at each other. Coach stands in the doorway. Dean Fitzgerald sits in a black swivel chair, looking at us both and writing our names down in a little book decorated in Endsville Middle School's red and silver. The detention list, I think. Perfect place to show school spirit. She finishes up, then motions for Coach to leave. He shuts the door behind him.

"So, I understand you two were fighting?" She says with a frown.

"Yes," I answer. "What's your point?"