Usman Grant and the Cheater

Surviving Lunchtime at Middle School

It was lunchtime at Nathaniel Harrison Intermediate School in Thimbleberry, Connecticut. Seventh-graders Usman Grant and Dana Batyrov were heading to their usual spot at the back of the cafeteria.

To get there, they had to pick their way through a maze of obstacles: narrow aisles between the tables tightly packed together, ­­chairs that scooted out unpredictably, backpacks tossed on the floor, and kids stopping abruptly to chat with friends. Navigating the cafeteria required lightning-fast reflexes.

"This feels like the market from Raiders of the Lost Ark," Usman said to Dana as he sucked in his stomach to slip through a narrow crack between a huge gym bag hanging on the back of a chair and a clique of girls making Swiftie bracelets.

"Except Indy was trying to avoid getting captured by Nazi soldiers," Dana said, pointing at the captain of the football team sitting nearby. "We're facing real dangers here. Hunt will give you a charley horse that'll leave your arm numb all day, if you bang into him!"

Usman added, "And if we make Morgan and Cam spill their beads, they'll hit us with a devastating putdown and mocking laughter. It'll be the end of our reputation."

"Oh no! Our reputation as the biggest nerds in school will be ruined." Dana laughed. "Besides, we both know what you're worried about!"

Usman sighed. "I hate it when I spill my apple juice into my mashed potatoes. It makes for soggy terrible-tasting potatoes. And the mashed potatoes are the best part of beef stew day!"

"And you might stain your beautiful clothes!"

"I just like to look good. Is that a crime?"

Just as Usman's dad had taught him to love older movies, Usman's mom had taught him to respect school. That meant listening to the teachers, studying hard, and being polite. It also meant dressing well: slacks and a button-down shirt every day for school. Dressing up didn't mean being boring, though. His shirt was always bright and colorful. Today he was wearing his favorite, purple. And his light blue blazer was shiny as silk even though he was pretty sure it was rayon! The last thing Usman needed was a big brown stain of beef stew on his beautiful clothes!

Dana, his best friend, was in some ways his opposite. Dana liked to wear T-shirts and jeans or sweatshirts and sweatpants, depending on what after-school activity she was doing. Where Usman went home every day to study, Dana did band (where she played drums), public speaking club, and had softball practice for the Thimbleberry Tunas, the town team.

Friday was band practice, which meant that Dana was wearing her favorite T-shirt, from her favorite band, The Odious Oddballs. She'd even made her parents wait with her for 2 hours after a concert last year so she could get it signed! So Friday was the one day of the week, Dana actually cared about getting a stain on her shirt!

As the path to their usual table became clear, a voice called out, "Hey, nice shirt! I love The Odious Oddballs"

It was Glenn Horovitz, one of Dana and Usman's classmates. He was the tallest kid in seventh grade and the meanest. If you saw Glenn in a movie, you'd know he was the bully immediately with his shaved head, ripped jeans, and dirty T-shirt that showed he didn't care what others thought about him. Plus he was an intimidating 5 foot 6 and 150 pounds. Did his appearance turn him into a bully or did being a bully make him look a certain way? Usman couldn't decide.

The last time Glenn had interacted with Dana was at recess a month ago. He'd shoved her out of his way to get to the basket of balls. He promptly threw a ball at a kid reading under a tree, while shouting "Nerd!" It wasn't like Glenn to give a compliment for no reason. Despite his permanent sneer of sarcasm, there was no sign Glenn was being insincere.

Before Dana could decide how to react, the boy next to Glenn spoke up. "I can't believe you like that junk. It's all screaming and guitars turned up too loud to hear. That's not real music."

The harshness of the words and their tone contrasted with the speaker. Troy Angelo had curly blond hair, blue eyes, and a sweet face that made him look sweet and innocent. But everyone at school knew his personality was the exact opposite. Snarky and opinionated, his greatest joy was telling other people they were wrong about everything in a sarcastic voice. No wonder he was buddies with Glenn,

"This kid listens to the stuff my dad likes," Glenn asked, "from the 50s."

"Well, actually your punk garbage wouldn't even exist if it weren't for the Beatles," Troy said, sneering. "And it was the 60s, you moron!"

"Well, maybe instead of worrying about what kind of music other people are supposed to like, you should focus on the history test Monday," Dana snapped, "Your score last time put you on Mr. Roosevelt's wall of shame!"

Troy laughed as if to show he didn't care, but the laugh was a little too loud. "Who cares? Besides I'm not dumb. I'm ready. Ask me anything about 1776 or when Washington and Lincoln signed the Constitution."

Even Glenn gave Troy a look.

Usman said, "Surely you can't be serious?" quoting from Airplane!, one of his favorite old movies.

Dana laughed and added, "He is serious, but don't call him Shirley!"

Troy looked confused and angry, as if he knew they were making fun of him, but he wasn't sure how. "Whatever, freaks," he said throwing a roll at Usman's head.

"Hey watch it. You'll get crumbs in my hair!" Usman said and darted away, Dana following.

As they sat down, Usman looked up at Troy and Glenn, He thought Troy was saying he didn't care about some dumb grades. But his tone and the look on his face suggested otherwise.

As Usman looked at Troy, Troy glanced back at him. His angelic features didn't look sweet or forgiving. They looked mad.