be creaming in your pants.”
Michael slammed his locker shut. He didn’t think about the choice, he just made it. “Shut up, Mauro.”
“Ooh, the gaytard finally talks back!” Despite his surprise, Mauro laughed and so did the group of kids who had gathered to watch the final round between Michael and his nemesis. In a strange way, he took power from his mother’s last action. Was she a coward, was she brave? It wasn’t for Michael to decide, but she had made a decision and that gave Michael strength. He could not allow Mauro to have the last word, not thislast time, so he decided to follow in her footsteps and do something.
“I said shut the fuck up!”
Eyes widened, Mauro was truly shocked, but in no way scared, and when he spoke again, he took a few steps closer to Michael. “And who, Miss Gaytard, is gonna make me?”
Again Michael followed gut instinct and not thought. He dropped the pile of books he had been holding, turned to face Mauro, and shouted, “Me!” as he pushed him back against the lockers. Using the element of surprise, Michael pushed him again, this time harder so Mauro’s books tumbled to the floor and he lost his footing. It was then that he saw something he had never seen in Mauro’s face, a tinge of fear. “Me! The gaytard’s gonna shut you up!” Michael shouted.
Before the words stopped echoing down the hallway Michael threw a punch at Mauro’s face with such force that he bounced into the lockers. It didn’t matter that the punch only clipped Mauro on the chin, it didn’t matter that the only reason Mauro didn’t pounce on top of Michael was because one of the janitors pulled his arms behind his back; all that mattered was that Michael fought back. He faced a demon, this bully, and he didn’t cower.
Shaking a bit and red-faced, Michael saw that the crowd of students was looking at him differently. So this was what it was like not to be looked at like a fool, not to stand alone. It wasn’t the exit he had planned, but it met with his approval. He wasn’t the only one who feltthat way. “Better late than never,” Mr. Alfano said, stooping down to help Michael pick up his books, smiling with that same look of respect he had given him the day before. “Good luck to you, Michael.”
“Thank you, sir.” But to the rest of the students, the ones who until that day had made his life miserable, who didn’t take a moment to reach out to him, he said good riddance. He had planned on being equally cavalier with his grandma, but when the moment arrived, he couldn’t be that disrespectful.
His grandpa had already shaken his hand roughly, told him to stay out of trouble, and was now waiting in the airport bar having a beer and so Michael sat among the other travelers with only his grandma as companion. “I will miss you and Grandpa,” Michael said, trying to sound convincing. “It’s just that … well, Archangel Academy really is a much better school and, you know, he is my father.”
True to her nature, his grandma remained silent. Michael never could figure out if she was a woman of so few words because she had little to say or because she had learned as a young woman that no one listened to her when she spoke. Ah, well, another mystery that would stay unsolved. She did, however, place her hand in his and together they sat in silence until it was announced that his plane was ready to depart.
Michael turned to her and he thought she would break tradition and offer some words of love and wisdom that she had failed to say all the time he had beenliving with her, but instead she hugged him tightly, and when she pulled back, she placed a folded envelope in his hand. “This is for you” was all she could say before the lump in her throat interfered with her speech. Michael stood there and watched the short, gray-haired woman, wearing clothes that she made herself, clutch her pocketbook and walk slowly away. He knew it would be the last time he would ever lay eyes on
Michael slammed his locker shut. He didn’t think about the choice, he just made it. “Shut up, Mauro.”
“Ooh, the gaytard finally talks back!” Despite his surprise, Mauro laughed and so did the group of kids who had gathered to watch the final round between Michael and his nemesis. In a strange way, he took power from his mother’s last action. Was she a coward, was she brave? It wasn’t for Michael to decide, but she had made a decision and that gave Michael strength. He could not allow Mauro to have the last word, not thislast time, so he decided to follow in her footsteps and do something.
“I said shut the fuck up!”
Eyes widened, Mauro was truly shocked, but in no way scared, and when he spoke again, he took a few steps closer to Michael. “And who, Miss Gaytard, is gonna make me?”
Again Michael followed gut instinct and not thought. He dropped the pile of books he had been holding, turned to face Mauro, and shouted, “Me!” as he pushed him back against the lockers. Using the element of surprise, Michael pushed him again, this time harder so Mauro’s books tumbled to the floor and he lost his footing. It was then that he saw something he had never seen in Mauro’s face, a tinge of fear. “Me! The gaytard’s gonna shut you up!” Michael shouted.
Before the words stopped echoing down the hallway Michael threw a punch at Mauro’s face with such force that he bounced into the lockers. It didn’t matter that the punch only clipped Mauro on the chin, it didn’t matter that the only reason Mauro didn’t pounce on top of Michael was because one of the janitors pulled his arms behind his back; all that mattered was that Michael fought back. He faced a demon, this bully, and he didn’t cower.
Shaking a bit and red-faced, Michael saw that the crowd of students was looking at him differently. So this was what it was like not to be looked at like a fool, not to stand alone. It wasn’t the exit he had planned, but it met with his approval. He wasn’t the only one who feltthat way. “Better late than never,” Mr. Alfano said, stooping down to help Michael pick up his books, smiling with that same look of respect he had given him the day before. “Good luck to you, Michael.”
“Thank you, sir.” But to the rest of the students, the ones who until that day had made his life miserable, who didn’t take a moment to reach out to him, he said good riddance. He had planned on being equally cavalier with his grandma, but when the moment arrived, he couldn’t be that disrespectful.
His grandpa had already shaken his hand roughly, told him to stay out of trouble, and was now waiting in the airport bar having a beer and so Michael sat among the other travelers with only his grandma as companion. “I will miss you and Grandpa,” Michael said, trying to sound convincing. “It’s just that … well, Archangel Academy really is a much better school and, you know, he is my father.”
True to her nature, his grandma remained silent. Michael never could figure out if she was a woman of so few words because she had little to say or because she had learned as a young woman that no one listened to her when she spoke. Ah, well, another mystery that would stay unsolved. She did, however, place her hand in his and together they sat in silence until it was announced that his plane was ready to depart.
Michael turned to her and he thought she would break tradition and offer some words of love and wisdom that she had failed to say all the time he had beenliving with her, but instead she hugged him tightly, and when she pulled back, she placed a folded envelope in his hand. “This is for you” was all she could say before the lump in her throat interfered with her speech. Michael stood there and watched the short, gray-haired woman, wearing clothes that she made herself, clutch her pocketbook and walk slowly away. He knew it would be the last time he would ever lay eyes on
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