Kissing the Frog: Chapter 5

Next morning in Big Jim’s car, Sally looked back at me and said, “Nice shiner, little man. Did Kelly Carson give you that?”

“He got it wrestling while winning a big match, creep,” said Big Jim, who also isn’t very original with his insults. “And why would that nimrod Carson have anything to do with the Spank?”

“Seems he stole his girl,” Sally said. “Little Man is taking Laurie Middlebrook to the prom.”

“How do you know that?” I almost shouted while not wanting to look Wheat’s way.

“Kelly told me last night when he called up and we talked about maybe going to  the prom together. We’re buds from way back. But I would watch my step if I were you. He didn’t have nice things to say about you.”

“Tell Carson that me and the whole wrestling team would be visiting him if he touches Spank,” Big Jim said. “And Wheat could probably handle Carson herself.”

We got out of the car and Sally grabbed me by my jacket again, acting as if she was going to plant another big one on me. I was going to be very OK with it. But then she pushed me away. “Don’t want to put you in double trouble with Kelly,” she said and wiggled off like she was the Queen of the Nile or something.

Now I had to face Wheat. She looked more hurt than angry. “When were you going to tell me about you and Laurie Middlebrook?” she asked. “Isn’t that what best friends tell each other?”

“I was going to say something today sometime,” I said. “Look, I’m sorry Wheat. Wrestling was kind of the big thing last night. And I feel a little weird about the whole thing anyway. It’s my very first date ever and I thought you might make fun of me. As far as Laurie goes, I’m sure I’m just a stop-gap in between big-time boyfriends.”

Then Wheat’s mood really changed. “That’s what really ticks me off about you, Spank. You always sell yourself short. Just because you’re a skinny little dink like me doesn’t mean you aren’t one of the best guys around. And you have your share of good looks, thanks to Mom. Laurie Middlebrook has herself a real date — not some overgrown Ken doll who thinks he has to go around acting tough all the time. So quit with the inferiority complex.”

Then she stormed off. It was the second day in a row we didn’t walk into school together. Inferiority complex? Why should I have an inferiority complex when I have to look up to three-fourths of the girls in my class and my step-sister can kick my butt any time she wants?

But then I started thinking. In the last 24 hours, I got a knock-your-socks-off kiss from Sally Guffie, a date proposal from the girl of my dreams and a threat of sorts from one of the school’s Mr. Cools, Kelly Carson. Maybe I really was destined to become a Big Man on Campus — the big a figurative term, of course. I started to feel a little smug as I walked to my locker.

That smile faded pretty quickly, though. Of all people to meet in the hall but Kelly Carson himself and a couple of his gangster-looking buddies. I think they may have been waiting for me. “Hey, Rogers,” he yelled. Remember, Rogers is my last name. “Nice shiner. Who gave you that? Probably that little spitfire of a sister of yours, right?”

I didn’t think he would believe me if I said a guy who resembled Magilla Gorilla so I said, “I can’t remember if it was Sally Guffie or Laurie Middlebrook,” before I could stop myself. I guess I haven’t told you yet that even though I look like a wimp and partly am one, I still can be a bit of smart alec. That’s probably not a good combination. Where was Sally Guffie when I needed her? One of her kisses might turn me into a frog so I could hop away.

Kelly’s cocky smile had quickly faded and he picked me up and banged me into the lockers — not that hard but hard enough to make a clanging noise. I guess he still had some feelings for Laurie, despite what Sally had said.

But before I could find out how much feelings, Mrs. Riley (did I tell you she was the Miss Delaware second runner-up while she was in college) came out of her room and yelled at Kelly to put me down. He did so immediately. I think every guy in school has a crush on her, even the great Kelly Carson.

Mrs. Riley looked at me and seemed alarmed when she saw my blossoming black eye. “Kelly Carson, did you do that to that young man.”

He shook his head while I said, “It’s an old one, Mrs. Riley. Kelly was just seeing how many inches I have to grow before I can look him in the eye.”

Kelly even grinned at that one and sort of wiped off my shoulders like something was on them. I don’t think Kelly is that bad of a guy and was just showing off a little for his two buddies. But he does apparently think he’s God’s gift to women, which may be partly true. I noticed that even Mrs. Riley called him by name and referred to me as “that young man.” Oh, well, 112-pound wrestlers with a 1-0 varsity record don’t get the same notice as golden-boy football and baseball heroes.

As Kelly walked up to apologize to Mrs. Riley — not sure why he was apologizing to her — he looked over his shoulder and said, “Later, shrimp.”  Trying to keep with the water creature theme, I called back, “Later, Great White,” and his two friends thought that was hilarious.

Let me say this: I don’t think there is anything funny about bullying. But when you grow up a shrimp, you sort of learn to deal with some of it. I always figure what goes around comes around and I do have my limits on what I will take, especially when it comes to someone else getting bullied. It’s a hard subject to talk about. I’ll let it go for now. But I decided Kelly wasn’t going to get any more free passes from me. I really did. Do I sound scary?

I did get a lot of looks all morning because of my black eye. I think I liked the attention. Black eyes don’t really hurt after a while and I guess I felt it made me look tough even though it meant somebody was able to give it to me. “You should see the other guy,” I said to a few gawkers.

“Or girl,” said Bobby Taylor as we walked to English class after lunch. “Wheat give you that? 

“Got it last night while winning a varsity match,” I said rather smugly.  “You should see the other … I guess you heard that one.”

“About a half dozen times in the last 30 seconds,” Bobby said. “And what’s with Laurie Middlebrook and you. You look about 20 thousand leagues over your head.”

Funny, I thought. One of the kids in our English class had just given a book report on Jules Verne’s “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.” Bobby had incorporated it into a conversation. He’s not usually that quick-witted. I ignored his joke, though. “She asked me to the prom. And, yeah, you’re right. I’m way over my head.”

I started getting Hummingbird Heart as we walked into class. I couldn’t wait for Laurie to take a gander at my black eye. And when she looked up at me, her smile suddenly turned to a look of concern.

“Oh, wow, Spank, that looks really painful. What happened?”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled. “I won. You should see the other guy. Pretty much a pummeling.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. She seemed to stare right through me and said, “I’m not really into tough guys. I didn’t know you fashioned yourself one. To be honest, that’s one of the reasons I broke up with Kelly. I’m a sports fan — love the Cubs and Notre Dame — but I get really tired of the macho stuff that some of the guys think they have to show to impress people.”

I gulped and quickly switched gears. “I’m not tough at all,” I almost whined. “I got it in a wrestling match and I’m really not very good. My step-sister can even beat me up. You could probably even beat me up. I just wrestle to stay in shape and keep my girlish figure.”

She finally smiled a little. “I forgot that you wrestled. My dad was a wrestler in high school, or so he says. You can’t always believe what politicians say. Your sister can really beat you up?”

“Yep,” I said almost proudly.

“But you’re not a wimp?”

“Kind of somewhere in between a wimp and a tough guy, I guess, but probably a little closer to a wimp. Am I still taking you to the prom?”

“Yes. That is unless Javy Baez of the Cubs calls me.”

I started to tell her that Wheat had a crush on the Cubs’ shortstop, too, and that I thought Baez was already married. Then she giggled and squeezed my bicep, which was sore like most of my muscles after my big victory.

“Ouch!” I said as the tardy bell rang and just about the whole class of mainly girls, some of them doing a little eavesdropping, laughed.