Forget Green Gables

I'd Break a Slate Over His Head (If I Had One)

When Danny drops me off for my math final, he gives me a quick kiss and tells me I will do awesome. Sighing and wondering if for perhaps the first time in his life my boyfriend is about to be wrong, I take my seat.

Music is allowed on the final, so get your players ready to go.

Hallelujah! I study to music all the time. Maybe it will help me focus today. Garth Brook's In Pieces is in the player, one of my all-time favorite albums. Quickly, I show the CD to Mrs. Emens, standard testing policy to make sure we didn't burn a CD to help us cheat, which I didn't even realize was a thing.

"Garth Brooks? Who listens to that fat old country singer anymore?" Dustin Martinez states as he looks over my shoulder to see what I am listening to. I keep looking at my desk, headphones covering each ear. When Mrs. Emens turns around to grab our tests, he reaches forward and moves the headphone off of my left ear and hisses: "look, you've even got on cowboy boots. Must be that fat hicks listen to that fat SOB."
Maybe I am spending too much time with Rebecca. Maybe it is the disoriented start to the day. Maybe I have just finally had it. I turn around and whack Dustin upside the head with my 3-Ring binder. "Don't you ever touch me again you stupid moron." Seeing the look on Mrs. Emens' face, I get up, grab my bag, and walk to the office.

I get out the door - barely- before I start rage-crying. It is not fair. Dustin never ever lets up. Mrs. Emens has called his mother; the principal, Mr. Springston, has called his mother; the counselor has given him the "Zero Tolerance on Bullying" speech. My cheer coach talked to the football coach after Dustin pegged me in the back of the head at practice one day and nearly brought down our extension because of it. The football coach suspended Dustin for a game (which they lost, horribly) and made him run a mile after every practice. None of it made any difference. This is finals, and he can't even shut his mouth to let me focus.

I already regret having lost my temper with him, because I know I will be suspended, and Coach will hear about it, and I will be in even bigger trouble on the squad than I will be at home. And then there's my U of M admission...

The principal is talking to the secretary, whose son is a year older than me and sometimes hangs out with Felix. "What's wrong?!" Mr. Springston demands, seeing my face when I fling the door open and step in.
"I...I..." I sink into a chair. "I smacked Dustin Martinez upside the head with a three-ring binder." I am crying so hard by now I hiccup, which makes me cry harder. Damn my mother's family for passing on the Angry-Crier gene along with the long eye-lashes and great ass.

Mr. Springston guides me into his office and motions for me to sit down. Through sobs, I explain what happened, down to Dustin moving my earpiece and hissing into my ear. "I'm just so sick of it, and I know I shouldn't have hit him, but it seems like nothing anyone does makes a bit of difference. My brother even talked to him about it during football, but it only got worse after they lost that game Dustin was suspended for. I don't know why he hates me so much." I hiccup again, blowing my nose into a Puffs from the box on the corner of his desk. "I'm not even crying because I'm sad. I'm pissed off, and I'm an angry-cryer."

"Calm down. Go sit with Mrs. Huggett while I talk to Mr. Martinez."

I find Mrs. Huggett a very calming presence. The woman has tissues waiting for me as well as a few pieces of dark chocolate.

Mr. Springston leaves and comes back just a minute later with Dustin Martinez and his stuff in tow. I pretend not to see as I look at the middle of my math book.

Mr. Springston suspends Dustin for five days and bans him from wrestling for the rest of the season. On his way out the door, Dustin knocks the book out of my hands, and spits at me, "ugly, fat ass bitch. If we lose states because I can't wrestle, it's your fault, and I'll make sure your life is a living hell." By the end, his face is only a few inches from mine, his finger pointed in it. I pull myself up to my full height of 5'1" and take a step toward him. Before I can react any further, and I am about to kick him in the crotch, consequences be damned, Mr. Springston pulls him back, doubles his suspension to ten days, and puts him in the school officer's office with the threat of harassment charges.

"Cheyanne, come on back," Mr. Springston calls a moment later. He gestures to the chair across from him and waits until I am seated. "Given the hostilities toward Dustin Martinez against you, we're going to not give you any consequences, but I do have to ask you to not do it again. I know you've been putting up with him all year, and I'm personally going to go through his schedule and make sure he isn't in any of your classes, or your lunch, next semester. Mrs. Emens said if you wanted to come back to her room after school, she'll be here and you can take your final. I'll let your cheerleading coach know where you are."

I feel like the hand gripping my middle finally releases its hold on my stomach and intestines. "Thank you, Mr. Springston."

"Go sit with Mrs. Huggett until the final bell rings."

I plop myself Indian style into the chair next to the kind woman. "He's a jerk," Mrs. Huggett says. "No one would have blamed you if you'd slapped him when he was in your face like that."

"Don't think I didn't think about it. I don't often have a fighting side, but when I'm backed into a corner I'll come out swinging."

"Don't let him get you down."

I nod absently, settling into the chair. Peace can be found in the strangest of places. I never could have guessed I would find it in the front office of my high school building.