“Hey, where are you going, Carl?”
“Oh, uh, you know, home.”
I cringe as Scott Young presses me against a fence. You know, just one day without this sort of abuse would be nice. Just one day.
“You made me flunk my History test, smartass! How many times do I have to tell you to make your answers visible?”
“I tried!” I exclaim, “Dude, Mrs. Grier has the eyes of a hawk. Both of us could’ve gotten detention!”
“I could care less about detention,” Scott sneers, “I have it almost every day anyway. YOU, on the other hand, need to man up! Better both of us take the fall than me getting an F!”
“Yeah, but-”
“I’m not done,” my aggressor cuts in, “Listen, do I need to remind you why we’re having this talk?”
“No,” I whimper.
“Good,” Scott smiles, “Because I’m going to anyway.”
A split second later, pain engulfs my right eye, causing me to fall on the floor and clutch it.
“See ya later, Carl. Remember our deal!” Scott yells as he walks away.
When I’m sure that he’s gone, I take out my phone and I check my face. Though it’s only been a minute, I can already see a black eye starting to form. Great, now I have yet another thing that I’ll have to explain to my mom.
As I begin to walk home, through the streets of the town that seems to hate me, I think back to the beginning of my “partnership” with Scott, the partnership being that as long as I get him good grades, he doesn’t pound my face in.
I guess it started when I moved here two years back. I was new, nerdy, and a freshman, so not the sort of mix that you would want to associate yourself with on your first day of school. Mostly, I stayed out of the way of everybody else, which was fine by me, until I was asked by my English teacher to help in grading our Shakespeare Essays. Of course, I had to grade Scott’s, and of course I had to be commended in front of the entire class about how much of a help I was. So ever since then, I’ve been Scott Young’s bitch.
These thoughts continue to go through my head until I pass by an alley. It’s not until I go by it that I realize that I’ve never noticed it being there before. Confused, I turn around and I look down it.
Though it’s mostly empty, there is one store with a big neon sign in the middle of it. The sign says, “Martha’s Wonders”. Confused, but curious, I decide to investigate it.
I walk up to the door and I push it open. I am immediately greeted by the smell of various perfumes and alternative rock playing on the speaker. All throughout the shop, I see a variety of goods, such as clothing, home décor, and of course, chewing gum. Though it’s apparently open, nobody is behind the register. My curiosity sated, and being kind of creeped out, I decide to head out.
Just as my fingers graze the door, I hear a female voice behind me.
“Hello, is there anything I can help you with?”
I jump, and I quickly look behind me. Standing at the counter is a hot 30 something brunette, who is wearing jeans and a light red t-shirt that exposes most of her cleavage. She’s wearing a nametag that says “Martha”. Stunned by her beauty, I am at a loss for words.
“Uhhh, hi?” is all that I can stutter out.
“Ah, so we’ve got a nervous one,” Martha smirks, “Well, let’s see what else I can guess about you. Well, based on your clothing and your posture, I’d say that you’re shy, and DEFINITELY not popular. You’re at most a mama’s boy, and judging by that black eye, I’d guess that you’re part of a one sided war, eh?”
