Barf For Lunch - Lee Mandel (e textbook reader .txt) 📗

Chapter One

GUESS WHAT?

“Zack, Junior, you’re not gonna believe who’s in my math class,” Lauren shouts, tossing her new red knapsack onto the lunchroom table. “Chas Winters.” Her blonde ponytail swishes from side to side as she swings her legs over the cafeteria bench and sits down next to me.
Chas is the town bully and ultimate nasty boy. He’s terrorized almost every kid in the neighborhood and most of the students at Westfield Middle School. My friend, Junior is petrified of him. Ever since Chas tied him to a sprinkler with a hose and shoved a Lego block up his nose, Junior’s policy is to stay clear of Chas. Even I was a victim last year, being chased down a hill and doing his evil deeds, like pouring alcohol into the Halloween punch, which I only pretended to do, and handing over the answers to a test for one of his wanna-bees. But that was before I shared some valuable information about the school lunch with him, and almost got my butt kicked that same day. He’s still a bully, but I think we’re on pretty good terms.
Lauren’s announcement surprised me because Chas was in the seventh grade last year. He should be taking eighth grade math now, but he’s in Lauren’s seventh grade class. That means either he was in the wrong math class on the first day of school, or he’d been left back, at least in math.
Dawn Miller walks over to our table and takes a seat next to Junior. Her short brown hair bobs as she reaches over and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. They’ve been dating since last year. “Looks like we all have lunch together again.”
“Not Mikey,” says Sarah Michaels, in her high squeaky voice. “He’s got lunch sixth period.” She takes the seat next to Dawn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dawn and Sarah apart, except for the time I went to the movies with Junior and Sarah. I was going out with Marcy then. She dumped me in the middle of August. Two weeks after she dropped the bomb, she started going out with Doug Mather. His dad owns the Chicken Coop fast food restaurant. He’s a real dork, if you ask me.
I should be okay in school this year as long as I don’t run into her, which will be tough since we’re both in seventh grade. I know there’ll be auditorium programs, school events, and a good possibility of having a class or two together. And I thought sixth grade was hard.
“Maybe Chas made a mistake,” I turn to Lauren, ignoring Sarah and Dawn’s concern over their outfits.
“I don’t think so. Mrs. George looked disappointed when she saw him walk in the door. She’s making him sit in the first seat, right in front of her desk. I guess she’s expecting he’ll be up to his usual antics, and doesn’t want him disrupting the rest of the class. It’s better that he’s in the front, then I don’t have to feel paranoid with him behind me.”
Junior focuses on his plate. He shovels the new semester’s mystery lunch into his mouth. “Junior, how’d you get lunch so fast?” I ask.
He pauses momentarily to explain. “Mm-I got on line when mm-I walked in.” Then he starts stuffing his face again.
“I can’t believe I’m going out with such a pig.” Sarah rolls her big dark-brown eyes.
The rest of us laugh, before getting up to get on line. We leave Junior at the table with our stuff, while we shuffle into the lunchroom. We grab our trays off the stand as we pass the stack. Hot lights shine onto mounds of discolored foods, and an unrecognizable stench escapes from under the plexi-glass sneeze guard. Vivid memories of last year’s pseudo-meals crowd my head.
“I can’t believe we’re gonna eat this stuff again,” Lauren says.
“I can’t believe we survived last year’s meals,” I laugh.
Fatty Patty is doling out the school’s signature mystery meat and grey-tatoes, as Greta Gravy welcomes students back to the lunchroom while pouring ladles of lumpy beige liquid over everything. Lauren holds her tray out to receive her share, which Fatty Patty plops onto a cardboard plate. And as usual, Mean Madge presides over all of the lunchroom activity. Her sinister smile and nod make me think that she knows more about what’s in the mystery lunch than she’s letting on.
Lauren and I sit down at the table. Junior gets up at the same time. “Where’re you going?” Sarah asks.
“Back for seconds.”
Glances of disgust volley back and forth from everyone at the table. How can he eat that food?
Several minutes pass before he returns with another tray of that smelly lunch. A scrawny boy, with blonde stringy hair and clothes that are too big on him, tags behind Junior. They’re about the same height.
“Hey guys, this is James. He’s in my first period social studies class,” Junior says. “His family moved here from Michigan. I told him he could sit with us.”
Everyone says hello, and Junior points to the empty seat next to Lauren.
There’s an awkward silence. Then Lauren asks James about his old school, but she’s interrupted with a much-feared sound echoing from across the cafeteria and everyone is quiet again.
“Hey, Meyers.” His stare bores through my head. The voice bounces off the walls. Junior looks around frantically for a place to hide. He pushes me over and crouches under the table. Everyone else freezes in place, tightly gripping plastic utensils in mid-air. The room is so quiet you can hear a worm burp.
Chas’ blonde, spike-topped, crew cut bops up and down above the crowd as he crosses the room, zeroing in on our table. Taking inventory of the members, the bully’s attention focuses on me. “Meyers, I think I’m in your science class next period.”
What? Why me? What’d I do to deserve him in my class? “Oh?” I say, trying not to let on that I heard about him being in Lauren’s math class. “Why would you think you’re in my science class, Chas?” The words come out before I can think about what I’m saying.
“I’m sure the whole school’s talking about my being held back.” He extends his right hand and examines his fingernails, as if repeating a grade is no big deal. Mom and Dad would kill me if I were left back. “I guess I didn’t have the right people doing my homework last year, but that won’t happen again.” He stares at me. I feel the table shake and without looking, know it’s Junior trembling underneath. “From now on, you’re in charge of that, Meyers.”
Great! Now I have to do his science homework. “Chas, I’ll help you as much as I can, but… ”
“No, Meyers. I don’t need your help. I need you to do my homework. I don’t think McCaffrey will give any today; she never gives on the first day of school, but I’ll be expecting it every day at lunch, starting the day after tomorrow.” He gives me a Grinch-like grin before he heads out of the cafeteria.
Everyone around the table stares at me. “I thought you guys got along,” Lauren says.
“Me too,” I add. “I guess playing the occasional basketball game with him during the summer doesn’t get me out of the bully treatment during the school year.”
“What are you gonna do?” Junior says from under the table.
“Well, I’m not doing his homework.”
“We’ll see.” Lauren grins. She knows me too we

Chapter Two
NEW BUDDIES

I enter Mrs. McCaffrey’s science class and see Chas sitting in the last row. His left arm is stretched across the windowsill, and his chair is tilted back from the desk. “Hey, buddy,” he says, as if we’re best friends.
I offer a crooked smile in return and look around the room for a seat toward the front, as far away from Chas as I can get. The students filing in from the hall fill in the gap between us. James walks in just as the late bell rang and takes a seat on the other side of the room.
Mrs. McCaffrey looks just as pretty as she did last year. Her platinum blonde curls bounces above her shoulders as she writes on the board. She turns and faces the class. Her sky-blue eyes shimmer and her tiny waist seems even smaller than I remember from last year. Although I’m happy to have her as a science teacher for a second year in a row, I’m a little sad because it was in this class last year that I met Marcy. I wonder if she has Mrs. McCaffrey for science during a different period.
Mrs. McCaffrey writes the topics that we’ll be covering for the year on the board. Instead of dissecting frogs, we’re going to have to do an extensive research project on one of the functions of the body. I thought of Marcy and how we shared an interest in science. We were a good team. How am I going to get through this year with out her?
The bell rang and a large paw lands on my back. “So Meyers, excited that we’re classmates?”
“Oh, yeah.” My voice is flat. I’m thrilled – not.
“Where you headed now, buddy?” he asks.
I open my loose leaf and look at the schedule clipped to the inside cover. “Gym.”
“Hey, me too,” he says with a smile. “We can walk together.”
Great! Now I’m stuck with the school bully as my hall-mate. Chas’ thunderous strides move him forward through the hallway. I walk slowly, hoping to lose him in the crowd of other middle schoolers, but his chunky sausage-fingers pull me along by the shoulder of my shirt. He stops periodically to talk with various students in the hallway; some he’s friendly with, offering a greeting or “Hey. How’s it goin’?” Others he intimidates; “Joey, I expect that first social studies homework by the time we walk in the building tomorrow or there’s a wedgie waiting for you, got it?” Joey’s rosy face drains of color and he shakes in his crisp, new school clothes.
I keep walking every time Chas stops, but he grabs my shoulder and pulls me to a halt next to him, as if we’re Siamese twins.
“We’re gonna be late, Chas.”
“Don’t worry, Meyers. Shevlin loves me.” He’s referring to Mr. Shevlin, the PE teacher, who hates tardiness. The late bell rings just as we step into the boys’ locker room.
“Okay, ladies, you know the drill,” Mr. Shevlin’s gravelly voice ricochets off the tiles in the locker room.
I head straight for the same locker I used last year. Junior’s already wearing his shorts and tee shirt, as he closes his combination lock.
“Hey, what took you so long?”
I keep my voice low and explain about my new best friend. I change as fast as I can as Junior waits for me. Then we walked into the gym together. Chas separates himself from his crowd of hooligans and they take the squad spots that Mr. Shevlin assigns them. Chas is at the far end of the gym. Mr. Shevlin reviews the rules of conduct for the semester. We’re given the option of free play for this gym period, but are told that the new sports unit will begin the next time we come to class.
I pick up a basketball and bounce it in front of Junior a few