Summary

This document is a chapter from a book, likely a coming-of-age story, focusing on the experiences of a young character named Jack Will. It describes daily interactions at school, with humorous anecdotes and the typical social dynamics of adolescence.

Full Transcript

Jack Will I hung out with Jack in homeroom, English, history, computer, music, and science, which were all the classes we had together. The teachers assigned seats in every class, and I ended up sitting next to Jack in every single class, so I figured either the teachers were told to put me and Jac...

Jack Will I hung out with Jack in homeroom, English, history, computer, music, and science, which were all the classes we had together. The teachers assigned seats in every class, and I ended up sitting next to Jack in every single class, so I figured either the teachers were told to put me and Jack together, or it was a totally incredible coincidence. I walked to classes with Jack, too. I know he noticed kids staring at me, but he pretended not to notice. One time, though, on our way to history, this huge eighth grader who was zooming down the stairs two steps at a time accidentally bumped into us at the bottom of the stairs and knocked me down. As the guy helped me stand up, he got a look at my face, and without even meaning to, he just said: “Whoa!” Then he patted me on the shoulder, like he was dusting me off, and took off after his friends. For some reason, me and Jack started cracking up. “That guy made the funniest face!” said Jack as we sat down at our desks. “I know, right?” I said. “He was like, whoa!” “I swear, I think he wet his pants!” We were laughing so hard that the teacher, Mr. Roche, had to ask us to settle down. Later, after we finished reading about how ancient Sumerians built sundials, Jack whispered: “Do you ever want to beat those kids up?” I shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know.” “I’d want to. I think you should get a secret squirt gun or something and attach it to your eyes somehow. And every time someone stares at you, you would squirt them in the face.” “With some green slime or something,” I answered. “No, no: with slug juice mixed with dog pee.” 70 “Yeah!” I said, completely agreeing. “Guys,” said Mr. Roche from across the room. “People are still reading.” We nodded and looked down at our books. Then Jack whispered: “Are you always going to look this way, August? I mean, can’t you get plastic surgery or something?” I smiled and pointed to my face. “Hello? This is after plastic surgery!” Jack clapped his hand over his forehead and started laughing hysterically. “Dude, you should sue your doctor!” he answered between giggles. This time the two of us were laughing so much we couldn’t stop, even after Mr. Roche came over and made us both switch chairs with the kids next to us. 71

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