The Afterlife Academy by Frank L. Cole Page B

Charlie took out his food and jabbed his straw into his box of lemonade. He unwrapped a pimiento cheese sandwich on dark rye bread and took a bite.
    “Ugh, why are you eating that?” Walter asked as Charlie chomped the sandwich, smacking his lips.
    “Because it’s delicious,” he answered. Two girls sitting on Charlie’s side of the bench looked up from their meals. Charlie fumbled with the sandwich. He was going to alienate himself from the other kids even more than he already was, if it kept looking like he was talking to himself. “You can’t smell it or taste it anyways. What do you care?” he said very softly, without moving his lips.
    “I still have eyes, and that looks disgusting!”
    “Psst! Watch out, Charlie,” whispered a boy named Terry Romans who was seated diagonally across the table.
    Charlie’s eyes widened, and he understood the warning just as someone sat down with a thud in the seat next to him. A brute with a flattop and beefy arms slid the rest of Charlie’s lunch out of reach.
    “Hello, Charlie Doo-doodle,” Mo said as he plucked the half-eaten sandwich from Charlie’s hand and smashed it into a ball. “Having cheese again for lunch?”
    Three other boys sat down too, flanking Charlie from every angle. All of them wore similar clothing: dirty, grass-stained football jerseys and cargo pants.
    “Who are these guys?” Walter asked. “Are they bullies? I hate bullies. I used to get picked on too, up until the moment I decided to pound the next person who shoved me. You’ve just got to set them straight. That’s all. Once they realize messing with you will cost them a black eye or a fat lip, they’ll stop bothering you.”
    Oh, that’s all?
Charlie wanted to say. All he needed to do was pound Mo, and the bullying would stop? How perfectly simple. Walter was
full
of great ideas.
    “Were you trying to make us look stupid yesterday?”
    Charlie shook his head. “I wouldn’t even know how to do that.”
    Mo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re still trying to be funny?”
    “Tell them to go walk in front of a truck,” Walter ordered.
    “Did you hear me, Doo-doodle?” Mo pressed his pointer finger into Charlie’s shoulder. “No one thinks you’re funny. Everyone thinks you’re weird.”
    The other boys snickered, but Charlie held his tongue. It wasn’t worth causing another scene. Why hadn’t Mo gotten bored with picking on him already? There were plenty of other kids just as weird as him.
    “What’s your problem?” a female voice asked from behind their backs. Everyone spun around, including Charlie. Melissa Bitner stood with a couple of other popular girls, scowling at Mo and his band of thugs. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother people?”
    “Whoa, dude!” Walter whispered in amazement. “Your girlfriend has come to the rescue.”
    Charlie gritted his teeth.
Shut up!
he said to himself.
    Mo’s mouth pulled wide with a grin and he elbowed Wheeler sitting next to him. “I’m not bothering anyone.”
    “You and your little followers.” She glared at Wheeler, who snorted with laughter. “You just walk around looking to mess with people. It gets old.”
    Mo shrugged. “I’m only trying to help Charlie feel better.”
    Melissa put her hands on her hips. “Feel better about what?” she asked.
    “About wetting himself.” Mo snatched Charlie’s lemonade off the table.
    “You better move!” Walter tried to warn him, but it was too late. Mo squeezed the box and poured lemonade into Charlie’s lap.
    Charlie tried to get out of the way by scooting back on the bench, but instead he slipped and fell to the floor. Mo stood up and finished emptying the box onto Charlie’s pants. It wasn’t really cold, but it was wet, and in the most inconvenient location.
    Wheeler, Oswald, and Vincent fell off the bench as well, laughing hysterically.
    Mo waved his hands to get the attention of everyone else in the cafeteria. “Look! Charlie wet his pants!”
    The rest