Calliope Chained

Part 9: FIGHT

On A days Beaver had 3 classes: a work period and a lunch break. On B days he had four other classes. Honestly, I'm not sure how he kept it all straight.

He had chem lab 6th period (a B-day class).

True to his promise, Kingston waited in the classroom.

Poor little Beaver had just come in when Kingston called, "gay!"

The class roared their approval. Beaver slumped in a desk near the middle of the cramped room. (Even rich classrooms don't have enough desk space I guess.)

"Didn't you hear me yesterday?" Kingston pointed a chubby finger; Beaver slumped further into himself, "Or does all that hair make you deaf? I said you are going to be my study buddy. I need some help passing this class. Get on up here."

I somehow doubted the help Kingston needed including after-school tutoring. Beaver shuffled desks, plopping his book bag next to Kingston's designer sneakers.

"Nice shirt." Kingston snickered.

A short stocky boy behind us kicked Beaver's chair.

"Leave him alone!" Biannca, the crying girl from before, sat to the left of the kicker. She pulled on the boys sleeve.

"If you all keep beating on him, someday he might beat back."

The class erupted like a popped zit. Giggles and snickers rained around us.

Mr. Nicolias came in: class began.

...

"Let me get this straight," I said after the bell rang and kids started packing up for lunch, "you're actually going to do that gorilla's homework?"

"I'm just going to check his answers for him," Beaver mumbled.

"The paper he gave you was blank." I spat.

Beaver shrugged.

I floated after him down the hall.

We stopped at his locker. He twisted the combination, wild papers fluttered loose.

The first read: Hey! It's Polly, let's talk at lunch!--sincerely Polly.

I had an idea about. Burgout!-- sincerely Polly.

Do you like Tuna? I have extra today!-- sincerely Polly.

Are you ignoring me?-- sincerely Polly.

"Hm." I said, glancing at a few of the scrawled notes, "think she wrote these all at once or has been stacking them all day."

Beaver banged his head against his locker.

I pursued my lips. He didn't look so good.

...

Polly, it seemed, had decided she and Beaver were friends. Here, I'd foolishly believed you could only be friends with someone consenting, but this wild pair demonstrated how very wrong I was!

Polly had a gift: she didn't need anyone to answer when she spoke. She monologed like Hamlet.

I zoned out, scanning the lunchroom for Gren's mysterious posse. They were nowhere to be seen.

Actually, Gren hadn't been around at all since yesterday.

Probably was nothing.

"So now I only eat food that starts with one letter at a time." I zoned back in. Polly talked animatedly as she pulled tuna, taffy, and a tangerine from her backpack. "Today is T day. Tomorrow I'm going to eat O food."

I snorted.

Polly squinted.

"Did you hear that!" She kicked Beaver under the table.

"Ow!"

"Shh! I swear I heard something!'

She reached out, right through me.

I guess my face must have been horrifying because Beaver chimed in real quick, "I think we should probably talk about something else." He said.

"Why?" Polly challenged.

Lucky for Beaver, the bell rang.

"Because," he swelled with relief, "it's time for class."

I've never seen a boy so happy to get away. He practically ran into the hall, headlong into Kingston.

"Woah there spunky." Kingston grabbed Beavers backpack straps and yanked him up a couple of inches off the ground.

"Let me down!" Beaver begged.

A crowd of pinch-faced teens started tugging at each other.

"Look!" Hailey, a tan cheerleader squealed, "the freak's attacking Kingston." She elbowed her friendnd Tammy who giggled.

"Don't let him get to close," Britain shreiked, "He might give you rabies."

Beaver kicked his legs flailing uselessly.
"Don't just sit there!" I raged. "Hit him! Hit him Beaver!"

To this day I don't know if it was devine intervention or a gift from the devil-- somehow-- Beaver got his fist squared up and nailed Kingston right in his royal jewels.

"Doh--" Kingston slumped to his knees. I cheered, but I cheered alone. Like a shadow, a cold silence fell.

Kingston rose a foot above Beaver and nailed him once square in the face.

"Fight!" Britain shouted. "Fight!"

Phones were whipped out of pockets. Cameras clicked. Someone laughed.

Kingston took another swing at Beaver. I yanked the chain pulling him back. He landed on his knees.

"Kick him!" I screamed.

"Kill him!" Haily yelled.

Kingston whacked Beaver on the side of the head. Beaver head butted Kinston in the stomach. Kingston wrapped his thick hands around Beavers kneck and pushed him into the lockers.

An arm split through the crowd of students. There standing in the crowd of Mr. Nicholes.

"Kingston, office, now."

He left, but not before turning to Beaver one last time, "I'll get you." He whispered. Then, he strutted off.