Part 4

The Boy In The Red Shirt Part 4

Eli Susman

The bell rang and James left his third period class without even so much as glancing at Ezra. They were heading to the same spot, and they both knew that inevitably they would have to see each other. But until the inevitable arrived, they wanted no part in it.

James wasn’t quite sure exactly why he was ignoring Ezra. He had stopped him from escalating the fight with Rudy. That was for sure part of it. He thought it was more than that though. James had never really enjoyed Ezra’s presence. He was more of a, “friends because it makes sense to be friends” kind of friend. Almost everything Ezra said gave James a headache, everyone knew that.

In the situation they were in, there wasn’t much of a choice. Whether they liked each other or not they were gonna go to beat up Rudy. It was, inevitable. After having done it though, their dislike for each other was on full display. They both knew that their friendship had dropped from, “friends because it makes sense to be friends” to, “complete and utter dislike of each other, but fake it to appease your other friends and not cause trouble.” They were both completely content with that form of friendship.

James took the same route he always took to get from third period to lunch. Around the corner of the bungalow. Down the hall. Across the open area between two buildings. And across the patchy green-brown quad until he got to the bench they all hung around.

The air had a dead feeling to it. The sun had finally come out, and the day was warming up. The cold air was no longer cold. But rather it was neutral. In the sun, it was hot. In the shade it was cold. The typical weather of early lunchtime in Los Angeles.

“Hey.” James gave a little head nod to Phil as he approached.

“Where’s Ezra?” Phil asked.

James rolled his eyes. He didn’t give a shit where Ezra was. “How’d I know?” James was rude. Phil responded slightly offended, “Because you guys had third period together.”

James just shook his head. He knew Phil was right. But he didn’t want to respond.

Phil gave him a odd look, then shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his

Pb&J sandwich.

The rest of his friends were crowded around the blue bench as usual. Everyone besides Ezra.

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Kenny. A tall guy, with big teeth and shaggy brown hair. Practically every other day he would have a new story about something stupid he did. The stories never got old.

Jacob was skinny and tall. And seemed to always stand in an awkward position. Didn’t matter where they were. They could count on Jacob to be standing awkwardly and making them all look weird. He was, simply put, the smartest guy of their group… by a lot. They weren’t really sure why he hung out with them. He didn’t talk much. But they loved him, and they knew how awesome of a guy he was. It was just that he was usually not part of the conversations.

Larry was average height, had thick black hair, and was Kenny’s partner in crime. Their parents may as well have had a conjoint conception of their kids. Because what they created was two little boys with brains the size of walnuts, that agreed on everything one another said. They were the same person.

Charlie was about as average of a person you could get. Average height. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Jeans with a plain t-shirt. An occasional joke here and there. The common laugh. He was a straightforward guy. Everyone knew what they were getting from him. A supportive person in whatever they were doing. That’s the real reason they were friends with him.

Tom was by far the tallest of their group. Nearly six foot five. He towered over the rest of them. He had a deep voice, that blared over everyone else. When Tom was talking, they were listening. He tried in school, and was a good student. But when someone gets smashed into playing football enough times. It really doesn’t matter how hard they try in school. They aren’t gonna do well.

Tony was the shortest of their group. He played soccer and that was the extent of what he cared about. He was always fun to talk to. And had interesting takes on everything. But what really got him going was soccer. If the sport of soccer could be turned into a sex toy, Tony would be the first guy in line to buy it.

Stefan was the comedian. There was never a word uttered from his mouth that didn’t make people laugh. He wasn’t funny for the things he did. That was Kenny and Larry’s role. But rather Stefan always knew the right moment to say a joke. He’d stay quiet, until the perfect moment to say something that would make everyone pee their pants.

Phil, who besides his roaring laugh and childish personality, had nothing else going for him. The occasional clever remark would be made. But that was all.

And of course there was Ezra. Who wasn’t there at the moment.

“Dude some weird shit happened in third period today.” James said to Phil. Everyone else around them was in their own conversations. Probably about video

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games or girls. Video games and girls, the two most important parts of any averagely popular teenage boys life.

“What do you mean ‘weird shit’?” Phil, of course, was highly interested. Before James could answer, Larry leaned in and jumped into their conversation, “Someone said weird shit?” That got a laugh from both James and Phil.

“I was just telling Phil that third period today was really weird.” “What was weird?” Larry asked.

“Ezra and I both went and beat up Rudy.”

“Right.”

“And it went kinda fine.”

“Right.”

“Until the end.”

“What happened at the end?” Phil leaned in closer and his eyes looked like those of zombies. But instead of being hungry for brains he was hungry for a juicy story.

“Well Ezra and I didn’t talk, which is semi usual, you guys know that, but there was something different. I don’t know what it was.”

“I wouldn’t think much of it.” A new person had entered the conversation. The three boys swung their heads to see who was talking. It was Jacob, he continued,

“Ezra is like that sometimes. Just cause you guys didn’t talk doesn’t mean anything is wrong.”

“I guess.” James shrunk down. James knew he was right. There wasn’t much reason for him to feel that anything was wrong. He just felt in his gut that something was wrong. James was a gut kind of guy, what his gut wanted is what happened. Not what his brain thought most logical. Still, Ezra had not shown up.

James looked over at the rest of his friends. He thought they looked like complete hooligans. He noticed something, off. Out of the ordinary. There was a boy. He was standing right on the outside of their circle, not talking, not trying to join. Just ominously standing there. His dark black hair covered his forehead.

“Yo Phil who the fuck is that kid?” James leaned over and asked Phil as discreetly as possible.

“No idea. He pulled up and started standing there a little before you got here. We asked him what he wanted, but he didn’t really respond.”

“We’re too scared to say something.” Larry added.

James’ eyebrows crunched,

“Why is he just standing there?”

“I just said I don’t know.” Phil tried defending himself even though there was no

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reason to.

James started to get up but Larry pulled him back down.

“Hey. Chill out. We don’t know what he’s thinking. Just let him be.”

“Yeah don’t mess with him.” Phil and Larry seemed to be on the same page. But James wasn’t having any of that. He got up despite Larry holding his arm and he went straight up to the boy.

“What the fuck are you doing?” James was straight up. As he always was.

The boy turned to him and stared, like a lion analyzing its prey.

“Hey I just asked you a question. You gonna answer it?” Again the boy didn’t respond. Now, all of James’ friends had turned to watch.

“Hey faggot I just asked-” Tom touched James on the shoulder.

“Chill out James.” James glared at him, having to tilt his head up at practically a 90 degree angle to look at Tom’s face. He turned back to the boy.

“You gonna say something for yourself?”

The boy managed to squeak out a word, “Hello.” “That’s all you’ve got? Hello?”

Before James could say anything else Jacob spoke, “What’s your name?” He asked curiously.

“My name is-”

“Nobody gives a shit what your name is. Why are you standing here like a fuckin demonic child?” James cut him off.

“I have nowhere else to stand.” All of the boy’s hearts ached when they heard the boy speak. But before any of them could say something, James did.

“What does that even mean? You can stand anywhere but here.” James looked at his friends. Who were all chuckling a little bit.

“I’m gonna-” The boy tried to speak up, but James’ antics had gotten Larry and Kenny involved. The dynamic duo of being mean high schoolers.

“You’re gonna what?” Larry said.

“You’re gonna pull out a gun and shoot up the school?” Kenny continued. The boys burst into laughter.

“Look at him guys.” James said, “Little dude looks like the fag from Parkland. That shooting in Florida.” His friends practically died of laughter, “I wouldn’t be surprised for even a second if he pulled out a gun.”

“The second amendment is my right!” Tony chipped into the conversation for the first time. They were practically on the floor laughing.

“What you got in the bag, glock?”

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“AR15?”

“The fag’s probably got an AK in there!”

Throughout everything the friends were saying, the boy stood still. No emotion in his face and as cold as a stone.

“Fuck you.” The boy said under his breath.

“What’d you say? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your guns firing.” The boy didn’t say anything.

“Get out of here.” James said plainly, “Just leave.”

The boy stood for another second. Then he took a quick step forward and shoved James. Right away, the boy looked as if he regretted his decision. He turned to run. Before he could make it anywhere, Tom was in his way. All six feet and five inches of him. He turned around again, and faced James.

“Who the fuck does this kid think he is?” James thought.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” James yelled at the boy, “You better get your irrelevant school shooter ass out of here before I fuck you up!”

The boy turned again, but Tom was still standing there. He felt trapped. Anger was building inside him. It was fire. Fire was burning his heart and tears were forming in his eyes. A lump in his throat didn’t let him speak. He felt like everything inside his body was on fire. His brain. His eyes. His throat. His heart. A fire was brewing inside of him. He felt like screaming.

“I said fucking leave you freak!” James yelled again. He’d caught the attention of some neighboring groups of students. Lucky for him, no administrators were near.

“If this fucker doesn’t turn and leave in the next five seconds I’m going to beat the shit out of him. I don’t care what happens to me.” James screamed in his head. He began counting down in his head.

“Five.”

Everyone was staring waiting for something to happen. Every high schoolers dream. “Four.”

The boy wouldn’t budge. James looked into his eyes. He felt like he was staring into the pits of hell.

“Three.”

The boy stood as if nothing was going to move him. Not a wrecking ball, not a tsunami, not even an earthquake.

“Two.” The boy didn’t move. James didn’t think he could feel more angry than he was at that moment. He was surely wrong about that.

“One.” James practically leaped at the boy, but at the same instant the immovable

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structure that the boy was turned and ran around Tom the way a small mouse would have done. James grabbed at nothing. The boy had ran. Thy are looked past Tom who had spun around as the boy swerved around him. He was already halfway across the quad. His big backpack bounced up and down on his dark clothes with each stride he took.

James and his friends all looked at each other. Baffled by what had just happened. James’ heart beat began to slow. Just by looking him in the eyes the fire that the boy felt seemed to transfer to James himself. He felt the heat cooling down the farther the boy went.

“What the fuck just happened?” Phil asked. Nobody was really sure.

“I don’t know.” Tom said. The other groups that had slightly crowed around had left and gone back to wherever they had come. The show ended and the audience had gone back to their homes. All of his friends looked at James.

“Don’t look at me! I didn’t do anything wrong.” He shoved his way through his friends and sat down. He opened his bag and started eating the lunch his mom had packed for him. After a second, his friends joined him, and within a few minutes, they had all virtually forgotten what had just gone down. Like it never happened. They didn’t know what was coming there way.

The bell rang and they all headed for their classes. Only a few had classes together.

James was not one of those few. James walked off alone. To fifth period.

He entered his class about a minute before the bell rang. It was on the second floor and centrally located, but he and his friends always talk for a little after the bell. So they usually made it to their classes nearly late. When James entered he looked around. It was his least favorite class.

If the fact that it was math didn’t make it bad enough, not knowing a single person made it even worse. He walked over to his seat, glancing at everyone he walked by.

“These kids are all such freaks. Why are they in my class?” James thought, even though his thought had no true meaning or reason behind it.

He sat down in his seat and prepared for the same hour and a half class that he had to sit through every other day. He looked around and saw the terrible posters all over his teachers wall. Geeky math jokes, a clock that’s numbers where math problems. James ran his hands through his hair. His nice, almost perfectly wavy brown hair. Usually girls loved it, but in that class, there were no girls of any interest to James. The bell rang.

Fifth period had officially begun.

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The teacher didn’t stand up from his desk. A minute passed, and the class was quiet.

Another minute passed and still, the class was quiet.

“Jesus these kids are weird as shit. Do they even know how to speak?” This was a thought that reoccured in James’ head every time he sat in his fifth period math class.

Finally, his teacher stood up and walked to the white board. He started writing math problems onto the board. He titled them, “Warm-Up.”

The shuffle of notebooks and school supplies erupted. Everyone got out their notebooks and began answering the problems on the board. When the teacher was done writing the problems he went back to his desk.

Ten minuted later he stood up and started answering the questions on the board. He gave no explanation of how to do the problems. He just did them.

“Wow our education system is so great.” James said sarcastically in his head.

A random girl spoke up, “Mr. Whitaker I have a question about number two.” Mr. Whitaker looked at the girl with his tired eyes, “Talk to your neighbors.”

The rest of class went on. Quietly, as that class usually was. James kept checking the clock. He would split up the time.

“Only an hour left.” He would think, “That’s four more sets of 15 minutes and the school day will be finished.”

Mr. Whitaker stood at the front of the classroom writing notes on the board as the whole class copied. James just sat staring at the clock. Just waiting for the first 15 minutes to pass and for only 45 minutes to be left on the clock. Finally it passed.

“Only thirty 45 more minutes.

He stopped looking at the clock and watched what Mr. Whitaker was writing on the board for a fw minutes. It looked like another language to James.

Again, 15 minutes passed.

“Only 30 more minutes.” A few minutes passed, and James checked the clock again. And after some quick math calculations, he was in math class after all, he came to the conclusion that there was only 20 minutes left in class.

“Almost there James. Just twenty more minutes and you’ll be out of this shit hole.” That was the same thought that was going through the minds of hundreds of other students at his school.

Then, out of nowhere, like a firework on Fourth of July, a gunshot was fired. It rang through the ears of every student, teacher, administrator, and janitor on campus. Within seconds, the school descended into complete chaos.

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