Bullied

Seven

"Hey, do you want to go for a little walk later?" Fred asked and I nodded in agreement. Fred handed his uncle the meat but not the rest of the change as agreed. I wondered how often Fred was allowed to have that much change.

"Dinner will be served at exactly 7 pm," he said in a way that reminded me of Alfred from the Batman cartoons, except Fred was too unfit to be Batman, or even the butler. We were back in his room. Fred put back his sketches and turned on the TV. An episode of Friends was on its rerun and we watched it a while before changing the channel and landing on a wrestling match. I hadn't watched wrestling in years so I didn't recognize any of the new wrestlers. John Cena was fighting someone and the match was over by the time Fred's uncle brought us dinner in Fred's room.

After dinner Fred volunteered to walk me home. Not all the way, just some of the road. Justin's shop was closed but we could still hear his father's voice. Jake was speaking loudly while Justin's voice was barely audible. Jake might as well be talking on his phone, maybe he was. It sounded like father and son having a quarrel. He was loud enough for the both of us to hear bits and pieces as we walked past the shop. I could make out words like shirt, pig, lying and slap. I quickened my pace but Fred stopped me soon after.

"Dude, why are you walking so fast? We literally just had dinner."

"I know. I just don't want to hear all this," I said.

"Are you kidding me? This is what I came to hear," Fred said proudly. I gave him a puzzled look. "You seriously didn't think I was done with him did you?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Fred looked somewhat disappointed as if I had just missed something obvious. Then it hit me. "What was the deal with the shirt?" Was that one of your... plans or something?" I asked, remembering his notebook and the list of childish shenanigans he showed me back then. I had forgotten to ask about it when at his place.

"Of course," Fred said in a matter of fact tone. "What else can it be?"

"So you cut your own shirt?" it was hard to believe that of all the things that could've changed in the past year, this did not.

"Yes," his proud answer was annoying, yet he continued, "Although the bastard himself gave me that idea," he gave a thumbs up and pointed it back at Justin's house from over his shoulder.

"How?" We were far enough to discuss what he did without worrying that either of them may hear it.

"There I was, doing one of the more casual routines and asking him questions about his love life, as if he ever even had a chance. I was talking about how much better the school going experience was to his dad. you know, casual stuff. As I talked, he got so annoyed..." The smile on Fred's face widened. "You should've been there man, it was so funny. He takes the meat from the counter and his foot slips on something on the floor. The meat on his hand slipped away and landed on my shirt. It was like a fucking cartoon."

"So you told him to wash it for you," I completed and Fred nodded along, laughing as he did so. I didn't like how the once bullied had now turned into the bully and was even enjoying it. Fred's laugh disgusted me.

"And the bastard did. He didn't clean it as well as uncle does but still, not half bad. Anyway I believe you can think of the rest."

"I get that you want to..."I searched my mind for the right words. "Make him suffer I guess, but lying? And whatever else you must've done in all this time," I recalled the disgust in both father and son's eyes when they saw Fred approach. "Whatever you think of Justin, his dad doesn't deserve that. That's taking it too far," Fred's face dropped. It was his turn to be irritated. "Because of you both of them are now fighting."