Middle School, the Worst Years of My Life

  “Thanks!” I said.

  “—but your behavior was completely unacceptable. There are much better ways to use your creativity, and I think you know it.”

  I nodded a lot while she talked. It seemed like the right thing to do.

  “I’m going to give you a warning this time,” Donatello said, “but you’re skating on very thin ice. Understood?”

  Nod, nod, nod, nod…

  I didn’t hear a whole lot of what she said. All I could think about was:

  That was 35,000 points for the day. I’d taken Leo’s challenge and blown it out of the water. Even better, I now knew for a fact that Jeanne Galletta knew I existed. That’s what you call progress!

  As I was leaving, Donatello said, “I hope you’ve learned a lesson, Rafe.”

  “Definitely,” I told her. “A really good one.”

  And the lesson was this: There were two ways to play Operation R.A.F.E.—the boring way and Leo’s way.

  Oh, and I also learned that Leo the Silent is a genius.

  NEW RULE

  When I got home that afternoon, I went straight to my room with Leo, and we started putting everything that had happened so far into my Operation R.A.F.E. notebook—the rules I’d broken, the points I’d earned, and even some of Leo’s pictures, to document the whole thing.

  We were just messing around, minding our own business, when I heard Bear start to roar from down the hall.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he yelled.

  Then I heard Georgia. “Nothing,” she said. “I just wanted to—”

  “I’m watching that! Don’t change the channel.”

  “But you were sleeping!”

  “No buts!” he yelled. “You can watch the game with me, or you can get out of here. What’s it going to be?” A second later I heard footsteps, and then Georgia’s bedroom door slammed.

  I hated when he yelled at her like that, even more than when he yelled at me. She’s just a little kid and he’s—well, he’s kind of like a little kid too, but the biggest, meanest little kid you ever saw.

  “Pick on someone your own size!” I yelled down the hall.

  “Mind your own beeswax,” Bear said back, and turned up the volume on the TV. It wasn’t even worth trying to argue.

  “You know what?” Leo said as soon as I closed my door. “We need a new rule.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” I said. “Nobody should get hurt from me playing Operation R.A.F.E.”

  “Especially little kids,” Leo added.

  And I agreed. I mean, if Miller the Killer accidentally landed in the paper shredder, I wasn’t going to cry about it. But otherwise—

  “Call it the Don’t Be a Bear Rule,” Leo said.

  “How about just the No-Hurt Rule?” I said.

  “Good enough,” Leo said, and I wrote that down in the notebook too.

  I’m not saying I’m some kind of saint. I’m not even saying this made me a better person, whatever that means. (I’m still trying to figure that one out.) But if putting the No-Hurt Rule into the game could make me even a little bit less like Bear, then I was all for it.

  Because Bear was all about hurting.

  TEACHERS WANT TO BREAK ME, BUT I DON’T BREAK

  You know those vampire stories where the new guy doesn’t want to drink anyone’s blood… until he gets a taste of it? Then all he can think about is blood, blood, BLOOD?

  Okay, maybe that’s not a good example.

  The point is, now that I really knew how to play this game, I was starting to get into it. I spent the next couple of weeks just working on my technique. Leo started giving me bonus points for creativity, and that helped keep me motivated. But Leo wasn’t the only one helping.

  This might be a good time to introduce you to some of the other people at Hills Village Prison for Middle Schoolers who “motivated” me to be the best I could be at Operation R.A.F.E. Check it out:

  These are the cafeteria ladies. I call them Millie, Billie, and Tilly. I think they’re part of a government program to get rid of the middle school population in this country, one lunch at a time.

  This is my Spanish teacher, Señor Wasserman. He’s okay as long as you don’t make any mistakes, but if you do—watch out!

  Mr. Lattimore is the gym teacher, and I’m not kidding when I say that nobody ever told him he wasn’t in the army anymore.

  That last one put me over the top. Mr. Lattimore didn’t think the old scooter switch was very funny. (Of course, Lattimore had his sense of humor surgically removed in 1985.) He gave me thirty push-ups, two extra laps, and… ta-da!… my very first detention.

  I mean, it’s not like I wanted detention, but at least now I got something out of it.

  I guess you could say I was on a roll. Even when I got home that day, I was lucky. There was a message on the machine from Mrs. Stricker, telling Mom to call the school. That wasn’t the lucky part (duh). The lucky part was when I got to it first and accidentally-on-purpose hit the ERASE button.

  Mom was at work, Bear was asleep, and Georgia was digging a hole to Australia, for all I knew. As long as nobody had planted any secret cameras around the house (hey, you never know), then I was going to be fine.

  APPLE PIE AND CINNAMON

  It was a typical Friday night.

  Mom wouldn’t be home until late, and both Georgia and Bear were asleep by nine—Georgia because she’s a kid, and Bear because he’s always so tired after a long day of NOT working.

  I’m allowed to stay up late on weekends, and since Jeanne Galletta wasn’t exactly begging me to go out with her (not yet!), I just hung in and did what I usually do on a Friday night.

  First, I took a piece of Swiss cheese out of the fridge. Then I walked over to where Ditka could see me holding it up in the air, but not too close.

  “Ditka! Here, boy!”

  As soon as he came for it, I ran to the bathroom and threw the cheese inside. I’ve done this about a million times, but Ditka still falls for it. He pounced on that cheese like it was the last meal on earth, and I just closed the door and walked away. Problem solved.

  Next, I went out to the garage and snuck a can of Zoom out of Bear’s not-as-much-of-a-secret-as-he-thinks-it-is stash. He keeps cases and cases of it out there, just for himself, but he never notices if a few are missing.

  Zoom tastes like chocolate and Coke mixed together, and it has about eight cups of caffeine in every can, which you’d never know, since Bear sleeps so much of the time. I drink mine out of a travel mug, just in case, so he won’t see what it is if he wakes up.

  After that came the really dangerous part. I tiptoed over to where Bear was sleeping and pried his fingers off the TV remote, one by one. Then I very carefully slid the remote out of his hand. It’s kind of like defusing a bomb. If it goes wrong, there’s a big explosion and everything gets ruined. But if not—sweet! It’s the only time I ever get to watch what I want.

  I surfed around and found a pretty decent movie, about a guy trying to escape from an island prison by floating away on a raft made out of coconuts. I really wanted to see him do it, but I must have fallen asleep before it was over. Next thing I knew, Mom was waking me up, and there was some kind of infomercial on the TV.

  “Rafe, sweetie? Time to go to bed.”

  I could smell the apple pie and cinnamon on her uniform. She always smells like that when she comes back from the diner. When I’m lucky, she brings some home, and we get to have apple pie for breakfast the next morning.

  Mom put an arm around me and walked me back to my room.

  “How was your day?” she asked.

  “Above average,” I told her, which was true.

  “You seem different lately,” she said. “Happier. It’s nice to see.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just said thanks.

  Then she got this look on her face, like when she’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking.

  “And Rafe? You haven’t… seen Leo lately, have you?” she ask
ed.

  Ouch. I didn’t see that one coming.

  Leo’s kind of a touchy subject in our house. This was the first time in a long time I felt like I had to tell Mom a 100 percent lie, so I just shook my head no. Somehow it seemed better than lying out loud.

  Mom looked relieved—which is exactly why I lied, so she wouldn’t worry.

  “Okay, then,” she said. “Remember, if you ever need to talk about anything—”

  “I know, Mom. Thanks,” I said.

  Then she hugged me and kissed me good night, which I was getting kind of old for, but I didn’t mind so much. I really like that cinnamon smell.

  MILLER THE KILLER RUINS DETENTION DAY

  My good luck lasted for another four days, fifteen hours, and (approximately) twenty-two minutes.

  It was Wednesday right after school, and I was on the way to my first detention. Everyone else was gone for the day, so the hall was empty, and even though it didn’t seem like a mistake to stop for a drink of water… it was.

  I barely got a sip before I felt Miller’s XXXL paw on the back of my neck. Suddenly my face was wiping the bottom of that fountain, and I was just trying not to eat the piece of gum someone had left there.

  “Well, well,” Miller said. “Look who it is.”

  He pulled me up and slammed my back into the wall. Then he got right up in my face. I could see the Cheetos in his teeth.

  “Seems like you’re getting a reputation around here,” Miller said. “What’s your deal, anyway?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  My heart was going for some kind of world speed record by now. I wanted to just start swinging, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that five-six and 150 pounds beats five-one and a hundred pounds every single time. Miller could have turned me inside out before I got off the first punch.

  “Listen.” He twisted up my shirt in his fist. “You want to prove you’re the baddest kid in school?”

  “I’m not trying to prove anything,” I said.

  “Too late,” he said, and stepped back. “You and me. Outside. Right now.”

  “Um…”

  He held up a finger in my face. “One.”

  “Ummmm…”

  Then another finger. “Two.”

  That’s when I remembered—

  “I can’t!” I said.

  “Why not?” Miller said. “Chicken?”

  “No. Detention!”

  I saw my hole and went for it, right under his arm and up the hall.

  “Detention?” I heard him say. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. I’m onto you, Khatchadorian! You better watch your back before you catch-a-door in the face! You can run—”

  I was running, all right, straight to Ms. Donatello’s room.

  “—but you can’t hide!” Miller shouted.

  And he was probably right. Unless Hills Village Middle School had a witness protection program, I was dead meat.

  Man, I hated Miller.

  MORE BAD NEWS

  Leo caught up with me before I got to detention. He’d seen everything.

  “I’ve got bad news,” he said.

  “I just met the bad news,” I told him.

  “Well, there’s more. You also just lost a life. Sorry, bud.”

  I stopped right there in the hall. “What? No way. What are you talking about?”

  “You wussed out on Miller,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like donating any blood today.”

  Leo shrugged. “Could have been worth some good points. ‘Section Nine, Rule Eleven: Students will not bully, harass, or fight one another anywhere on school property.’”

  “No fair,” I said. “Just ’cause I didn’t fight him doesn’t mean I should lose a life! You never said—”

  “I said I’d keep things interesting,” Leo told me. “You’ve got your job, and I’ve got mine.”

  “Whatever,” I said, and started walking again. “I still didn’t lose a life.”

  “Yeah, you did!” he called after me, and of course I knew he was right.

  This was unbelievable. First, Miller nearly turned me into lunch meat, and then Leo took away one of the only three lives I had. Could this day get any worse?

  AND TO TOP IT OFF…

  I thought detention was going to be me, Ms. Donatello, and whoever else had gotten into trouble that week, but when I got to Donatello’s room, she was just sitting there by herself.

  “You’re late,” she said.

  “Where is everyone?” I said.

  “I asked Mrs. Stricker to take the other students for detention today. I was hoping you and I could just talk.”

  In case you don’t already know, when an adult wants to “just talk,” it actually means the person wants you to talk, all about stuff you don’t want to talk about.

  In other words, the Dragon Lady had set her trap, and I’d walked right into it.

  “Have a seat,” she tells me.

  “No,” I say. “YOU have a seat!” My sword rings in the air as I pull it out of its sheath.

  The Dragon Lady’s eyes turn yellow. A long stream of fire comes shooting out her nose. I dive over a burning desk, roll, and jump back onto my feet.

  Already her tail is whipping out in my direction. Just before it can stab through my ear and into my brain, I clip off the end of it with my sword. Green blood sprays me in the face. She howls in pain.

  “Get back!” I yell at her. I can see the fear in those yellow eyes.

  But she’s faking! She pounces again—wings wide, claws bared, and that razor tail still trying to get inside my head.

  The flames are everywhere now. The whole room is on fire, and the heat is intense. I can smell my own skin starting to burn, but I keep swinging. One-two! One-two! One-two! It’s getting harder to move, because my sneakers are melting into the floor.

  Finally I get her backed into a corner. I raise my sword high, ready to deliver the final death blow—just as her wings open again, and she rises to the ceiling.

  She hovers overhead, out of reach of my sword. I swing some more, but it’s no good. Of course, her tail can’t get me from up there either. I’m starting to think this could go on all night, until—

  RIIIIING!

  And just like that, my first detention was over.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Rafe,” Ms. Donatello said. “You have so much potential—”

  “I have to catch the bus,” I said. “Is it okay if I go?” She just sighed and waved me out of the room.

  I’d survived to be tortured another day, but just like with Miller the Killer, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold off the Dragon Lady.

  WHAT’S THE POINT, ANYWAY?

  So what do I get, anyway?” I said.

  Leo and I were hanging out in my room, counting up everything I’d done so far.

  “Get?” he asked me.

  “For all these points. They’ve got to be worth something, right? What do I win?” I said.

  “Depends on how many points you finish with,” Leo said. “You need at least a million.”

  “For what?” I said.

  He thought about it for a second. “A week of base jumping at the Grand Canyon, all expenses paid.”

  “I’ll need training,” I said.

  “No problem. We’ll get you the best.”

  I liked the sound of this. For starters, anyway.

  “Then white-water rafting,” I said. “All the way down the Colorado.”

  “And rock climbing, back out of the canyon,” Leo said. “Where your Lexus SUV and a fake driver’s license are waiting for you.”

  “Sweet!”

  The whole time, Leo was drawing while we talked. Nothing new there—he’s always drawing.

  “What about Jeanne Galletta?” I said. “Put her in too.”

  “That’s going to be another two hundred thousand points,” Leo said. “But I’ll throw in Bear—you know, so he can get lost in the wild and a
dopted by real bears.”

  This was getting better and better. “In that case, let him get eaten by real bears.”

  But Leo shook his head. “Nobody gets hurt, remember? It’s already in the notebook.”

  “I’ll make an exception,” I told him.

  “No exceptions,” Leo said. “Besides, you need that No-Hurt Rule. It’s the only part of all this that Jeanne Galletta will like.”

  This is why Leo’s a genius. He thinks of everything.

  “You know,” I said, “you ought to try talking to other people once in a while. They’d like you if you did.”

  But he didn’t answer. Leo the Silent was silent—and that’s when I realized someone was outside my door.

  “Rafe? Are you in there?” It was Mom.

  “Just a second!” I yelled.

  Leo did his disappearing act, and I threw my notebook into a drawer just as Mom opened the door anyway. One look at her face and I could tell I was in big trouble.

  “No, not in a second,” Mom said. “We need to talk—right now!”

  I’LL TAKE THE DRAGON LADY OVER THE BEAR ANY DAY

  When I came into the living room, Mom was standing there looking mad, just like I expected. But Bear was there too, awake and sitting up. Not expected!

  “What’s up?” I said, playing it cool for now.

  “Did you have detention today?” Mom said.

  Uh-oh—busted!

  “Well… kind of,” I said.

  “Kind of?” Bear said. “Kind of? What does that mean?”

  Mom asked him to stay calm, but she kept her eyes on me. “I got a call from Mrs. Stricker. She says she left a message here last week. Do you know anything about that?”

  Oh, man—double busted!

  Just then Georgia came wandering in, of course. “What’s going on? Is Rafe in trouble?” she said.