Chapter Two
“I still can’t believe you’re wearing that!” Tim exclaimed as Bus 39 came to a
jerking halt next to Gibsonville School’s gymnasium. “Just look at yourself.
That outfit is absolutely hideous. Faded farmer Brown overalls. A red and white
flannel shirt. Maroon-colored boots. And a bright green John Deere baseball
cap? … Paul, are you out of your mind? No one would ever wear anything like
that – especially to school!”
“Yes, they would,” Paul nonchalantly replied as the two of them moseyed into the center aisle. “When you see him, take a look at what Butch McGuire is wearing. It’s the retro look that makes him and his gang so popular.”
“Butch McGuire?” A puzzled expression flashed across Tim’s face. “Who’s he?”
“Oh, believe me, Tim,” Paul said, amidst a brief chuckle. “You’ll soon find out. He and his gang worked overtime last semester to make my life as difficult as possible, and they nearly succeeded. They love to pick on anyone they consider to be an outsider, especially if they can be labeled a computer geek.”
“Why? About all the programmers I know aren't much different from anyone else.”
“I agree. And it’s the same with the ones I’ve run across,” Paul replied, stepping onto the gravel parking lot. “But just try to convince Butch and his gang of that.”
*****
“W-e-l-l. Good morning, handsome,” an attractive, blonde, female freshman said using an over-cheerful tone as she flashed a someday-you-are-going-to-be-mine smile toward Paul the instant he and Tim approached the school’s rear entranceway.
Then suddenly – a shocked expression emerged.
“What in the devil is that you’re wearing, Paul? It looks horrific!”
“What? This outfit?” Paul gazed down the front of himself. “It’s a little something I picked up at the Salvation Army over the holidays. Since the retro look seems to work so well for Butch and his gang, I thought I’d give it a try.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Cathy said, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. “You look downright ridiculous. This is the twenty-first century, Paul, not the 1940s.”
Tim suppressed a small chortle. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell him all morning. The problem is, he refuses to listen.”
“He does?” Cathy stared at her boyfriend and pursed her lips. “Oh, well. At least, you tried. … By the way, who are you? I don’t believe we met.”
“Me?” Tim pointed his forefinger toward his chest and gave Cathy his infamous knight-in-shinning-armor smile. “I’m Tim Hegler. This is my first day here.”
“Tim Hegler? Hmm, I’ve heard that name before.” Cathy frowned and proceeded to glance at the ceiling.
After a few seconds had passed, “Oh, my gosh! You’re not THE Tim Hegler?” she loudly exclaimed. “The one who co-developed Clash of the BattleStars. Are you?”
“That’s me,” Tim acknowledged with a slight bow.
“Oh, my gawd! I can’t believe you’re here – in Gibsonville, I mean. My dad told me during Christmas break that a new freshman would be joining our class. But I had no idea it was going to be you! I just can’t wait until Daniel finds out. The kid’s going to freak.”
“Daniel?” Tim raised his right eyebrow.
“Daniel E. Whitehouse – the Third,” Paul informed him. “He’s the eleven-year-old genius I told you about over the holidays. He’s very emotional.”
“Oh. Him.”
“Well. It’s been really great to meet you, Tim. And I would like to get to know you a little bit better,” Cathy said, grabbing his hand and giving it a quick shake. “But if you don’t mind, at the moment I’ve got to be going. I just can’t wait to tell Daniel you’re here. … You will be joining our Computer Club, won’t you?”
Tim wanted to say, yes, but before he could, Cathy had already vanished.
“Wow!” Tim replied, looking a tad bewildered as he turned to face his friend. “Are all your friends like that?”
Paul replied with a sheepish grin.
*****
A few minutes later when Tim and Paul entered Ms. Bass homeroom class, Paul immediately cruised toward his assigned desk like a ship with its auto-navigation system turned on. Tim took an empty one behind him, and soon afterwards, the tardy bell clanged.
“Well. Well. Well,” Butch McGuire proclaimed, twisting around so he could address the unexpected scene before him. “Look who’s back. My favorite computer geek. And I see you brought a friend.”
Paul involuntarily gulped. This certainly wasn’t the way he wanted to start the spring semester.
“Just leave us alone, Butch. OK?”
Butch looked at him and displayed a medieval smile.
“Gee. What’s wrong, Paul?” he then asked, using a tone as if he was speaking to a young adolescent. “Is the big bad bully disturbing the little computer geek? Maybe the little nerd needs to run down the hallway and report it to his mommy, the school’s Guidance Counselor. She might even be able to change his soiled diaper.”
“Shut up, Butch!” Paul growled, tightening his fingers around the edge of his desk.
“You dare to tell me to shut up, Paul?” Butch snatched a wooden ruler from inside his backpack and forcefully slapped it across his bare palm. “You must be one of the dumbest geeks around here. How would you like me to smack this across your forehead, you moron? It might knock some sense into you.”
Tim instantly jumped onto his feet, raised his fists and got ready to knock a couple of Butch’s teeth loose.
“I’d like to see you try, you super-size pile of crap! There is no way in hell, I’m going to let you lay a hand on my friend.”
“Alright, you three!” Ms. Bass immediately shouted across the classroom. “That’s enough of that. Fighting’s not allowed in my classes. … Tim Hegler, and I presume that’s who you are since I haven’t seen you before, take a seat. Paul and Butch, chill it. This instant!”
The three of them continued to eye at each other for a brief moment. Then with steam still bellowing from each of their ears, they readily complied.
“Hey geek,” Butch began in a loud whisper the second Ms. Bass finished taking attendance.
“Yeah?”
“You know we’re not done yet. And before this day is over, I’m going to stomp that scrawny tail of yours so bad – they’ll be carrying your geeky corpse away from here on a stretcher.”
Paul’s mouth rapidly dropped. “What’s your problem, Butc...?” However, before he could finish his question, the first-period class bell proceeded to clang. And by the time it stopped, Paul’s nemesis was nowhere to be found.
“What’s with the overgrown imbecile?” Tim asked as the two of them exited their homeroom.
“Well, if you really must know,” Paul said, before stopping and taking a deep breath. “He can’t stand the fact I wasn’t born around here. And two …”
*****
While Paul continued to share with Tim the long list of reasons Butch and his gang didn’t like him, a nearby squeal abruptly interrupted him.
“Oh my gosh! Cathy was right. It IS him! He’s really here,” Daniel yelled, dashing through the student-filled hallway like a four-foot-eleven half-crazed maniac.
Within milliseconds, not only had the eleven-year-old come to a screeching halt in front of them, Daniel had grabbed Tim’s waist and was currently giving him a bear hug.
“Oh my gawd, Paul!” Tim replied, eyes wide open and displaying a dismayed expression. “Who is this?”
Paul laughed as Daniel gave Tim a quivering smile.
“Tim,” Paul said with a cheek-to-cheek grin. “Meet …”
“Daniel E. Whitehouse, the Third,” the adolescent completed as he released his victim. “And you’re Tim Hegler. Cathy told me you were here. Did Paul tell you that just like him, you’re my hero?”
“I’m your hero?” Tim seemed puzzled while Daniel repeatedly nodded.
*****
“Well. Well. Well. Isn’t this interesting?” Stan, one of Butch’s gang members loudly exclaimed as he strolled up to where the three were standing – before Paul had an opportunity to explain to Tim, Daniel’s bizarre behavior.
“What do you want, Stan?”
“I’d like to know why your boy was hugging this newbie in the middle of my hallway? Did the miniature faggot get tired of you, Paul?”
“Faggot?” Tim questioned.
“Just ignore him, Tim,” Paul said, turning to face his nemesis. “Stan, you already know that none of us are gay. So why do you keep…”
“Oh really?” Stan interrupted. “Then answer this. Why were your boy’s arms wrapped around the new kid’s waist? … Disgusting acts like that shouldn’t be done where people can see them.”
“I don’t care what you saw,” Daniel forcibly replied as a tear formed in one of his eyes. “I’m not gay, and you and the rest of Butch’s gang know that. I just happen to love Tim and Paul ‘cause they’re my heroes … which is something, mostly likely, you never have.”
“Your heroes, huh,” Stan said, shifting his hands to the side of his hips in a pseudo modern James Dean style. “What have these two ever done to be considered heroes?”
“Are you familiar with the game, Clash Of The BattleStars?” Daniel asked in a slightly clearer voice. “It’s been a best seller for the past two months.”
“Yeah. I know all about it. I bought it just before Christmas.”
“Okay. … Well, if that’s so. … Did you ever bother to read its back cover?”
“No, I can’t say I have,” Stan said, glancing toward his feet. “Why should I?”
“To see who developed it.”
“That sure sounds dumb,” Stan said with a smirch. “Why should I care about who developed it? … You don’t buy a game so you can sit and read the box it came in. You buy it so you play it.”
“I care about who created the games I play,” Daniel inserted. “And I think you should too, Stan.”
“Why?”
“Because if you had taken a second to see who co-developed Clash Of The BattleStars, you’d have seen Paul’s and Tim’s name.”
Stan slid backwards a couple of feet and momentarily hesitated. “Is that right, Paul?”
“Daniel’s right,” Tim answered for him. “It’s written on the printed insert inside of the CD case.”
“I still think the three of you are a bunch of faggots.”
“Oh. Really?” Paul said, glancing in Tim’s direction and giving him a wink. “If that’s true, you must be one, too.”
“No way!” Stan exclaimed, taking a bold step forward. “I’m a true woman’s man.”
“Is that so? … Hmm. Interesting. … Then explain to me how come you’ve never been out on a date – with a real woman? … I know for a fact that the only person anyone has ever seen you with, has been Butch.”
Stan impetuously snorted in reply. “I ain’t got time for this kind of nonsense, Paul. I’ve got to go to class.”
Paul chuckled, and soon afterwards, the three of them headed toward their Algebra class, as well.
*****
“So what happened during Christmas?” he asked Tim, a few hours later while tossing his empty tray into the dishwashing slot at the end of their lunch period. “With all the fun we’ve had this morning, you never got around to telling me.”
“I think it would be easier to show you,” Tim answered, and they began to head toward the cafeteria’s exit. “It’ll only take a minute.”
Moments later, instead of turning right as they normally would in order to return to their classrooms, the boys continued going straight. Then after turning into the hallway that led to the Administration building’s front entrance, Tim motioned for the two of them to stop.
“So why are we here?” Paul asked, viewing the four by six-foot glass case in front of them. “I’ve seen the school’s trophy case at least half-dozen times.”
“I’m sure you have,” Tim said, tapping on the corner of its aluminum-trimmed frame. “But carefully examine it out now. I’m sure you’ll see something’s different.”
Paul took a second look.
“Are you sure something’s different?” he asked, repeatedly examining each of the three shelves in front of him.
“According to what my Dad told me, there is. Didn’t the Yellow Jackets win the football regionals last Fall?”
“They sure did.” Paul said with a nod, before taking an additional look.
“Hey! The trophy’s not here!”