The Ten Year

Summer break was grudgingly over.  The hills of West Salem were ablaze with bright yellow school buses as they filled the streets.  Stopping morning traffic once again and allowing students to mount the steps of the school board approved transportation to be taken to the halls of education.  Three students in particular, just exiting one of the many buses, walked slowly up the hedged, cement path to the newly built West Hills High School.

            “Would you guys just knock it the hell off,” yelled Tim Scribner, his ire directed towards his two friends walking just behind him.  The youngest, tallest and most intellectual of the group, Tim was constantly reminded by his parents that he had to take everyone’s criticism and joking in stride.  But sometimes, even thoughts of water off a duck’s back just couldn’t quell the sting of certain barbs.

            “Oh come on, Tim,” said Rob West.  Being the smallest of the group, and the self-called ladies man, his normal smoothness was given over to a conspiratorial tone as he said, “It’s not everyday you find out that your best friend is dating his own sister.”  This statement brought a new bout of laughter rocking through the third member of the group, Christopher Charles.

            Rounding on his friends, Tim snarled, “She is not my sister!”  He looked venomously between Rob and Chris, wondering, not for the first time since he’s known them, why he was a friend with them at all.  “Just because,” he began to explain, “we have spent most of our lives together, does not make her my sister, any more than you two are actually brothers.”

            They both raised their hands in defense as Chris, being an athlete and having the ability to make any situation into a comedy with one joke or another, still tried to smooth things over with his taller friend.  “It’s just that everyone here,” he said, spreading his arms as if to encompass the school, “already thinks that you guys are related.  That’s all, Tim.”  He stared at friend with concern, and continued with, “But if you can’t handle the teasing from us, how are you going to handle it from the rest of the school.”

            Rob walked up to Tim, stopping the small group in place and placed his left hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re just trying to look out for the youngest member of the Musketeers.  You’re our D’Artangan, and we have to protect you.”

            Through squinted eyes, Tim looked back and forth between the two boys, taking in their genuine looking smiles of reassurance and expressions of caring.  As the morning sun beat down on them, he was almost about to buy into their new attitudes, if only it hadn’t been for the corners of Chris’ mouth twitching with barely contained laughter.  “You guys are dicks and assholes!” he exploded.  “Both of you!”  He hastily shrugged off Rob’s hand and pushed his way through the front doors of the school.

            Quickly catching up to Tim down by the office, where all three boys picked up their class schedules, Chris continued on with Tim’s accusations and replied with: “Actually Timmy, I’m the dick and Rob’s the asshole.”

            “Either way,” he muttered. “You’re both fuckers.”

            Their mutual laughter followed him down the freshly tiled hallway as he made his way to the Athletics Hall, to gym class, their mutual first period.  “I really don’t know why I stay friends with you idiots,” he mumbles as he pushes open the heavy door to the boys’ locker room.

            All of a sudden, Tim hopes and prays that not only does he get through the day, but that his day gets better.