Did you see how he dressed? How he acted? All the time. In front of everyone. Like, he wasn't even ashamed. Like he thought we should all accept him. Accept him like he was.

Come on. You know what my dad would do if I ever acted half as weird as that kid?

He'd let me have it, that's what he'd do. He'd let me have it good.

Because that's what you do when people don't act like they're supposed to. You let them know it. And how.

I tried too, tried getting in his face. And you know who got in trouble? Me. That's right, me.

Come on. Is that right? Because I was trying to talk to him? Trying to warn him?

It's not like anyone else would. They all acted like he was funny. Free entertainment. Some of the girls even liked him. The same girls who wouldn't give me the time of day.

But then I'm low-class, right? Me and my dad, we barely get by. I couldn't afford the stuff that kid wore. Not that I'd be caught dead in it.

But still. I'm normal. I'm regular. Why would anyone like him more than me?

Whatever. No one else saw the problem. Nobody else was taking action. So he thought he was fine. Fine just like he was.

And that was wrong. Just plain wrong. Somebody had to do something.

So, somebody did. Me.

Copyright 2011 James B. Chevallier