Bruiser Read Free Page A

we’re lucky, we’ll both look back at this day and you’ll say “Thank you, Tenny, for caring enough to protect me from the big and the bad.”

4) REVELATION
    Brontë comes into my room that night, grabs me by the shoulders, and pushes me back onto my bed so hard, my head hits the wall.
    â€œOw!”
    â€œYou’re pond scum!” she says to me.
    I don’t deny the charge, but sometimes pond scum prevails.
    â€œWhat did you say to him behind the walrus?” she asks.
    â€œI read him his Miranda rights,” I told her. “He has the right to remain silent; he has the right to find some other girl to drool over—y’ know, the normal things you’d say to a criminal.”
    â€œHe’s never been arrested!” she said. “Those are just stories made up by idiots like you. He’s just misunderstood; but I, for one, am making the effort to understand him. Hewill not give in to your threats; and I will not stop seeing him, no matter how much bullying you do!”
    That makes me laugh. “Bullying? Give me a break.”
    â€œIt’s true, Tennyson! You’re a bully. You’ve always been a bully.”
    â€œSays who?” I immediately imagine punching out anyone who might call me a bully, and then realize that my own thoughts are proving Brontë’s point, which just makes me want to punch someone even more. This is what we call a vicious cycle, and I don’t feel all that good about it. I never thought of myself as a bully; and although this isn’t the first such accusation, it’s the first one that breaks through my defenses and hits home. Suddenly I realize that maybe, in some people’s eyes, I am. This is what we call a revelation. Revelations are never convenient, and always annoying.
    â€œStay away from Brewster!” she warns me, then she turns to leave; but I don’t let her go.
    â€œI get it, okay?” I tell her. She lingers by the door. “He’s the first boy you like who likes you back, so it feels kind of special. I get it.”
    She turns to me, some of her steam cooling in the kettle. “He’s not the first,” she says. “Just the first in my adult life.”
    I find it funny that we’re the same age, give or take a quarter of an hour, and yet she considers herself an adult.
    â€œBe careful, Brontë…because you have to admit, this guyis kind of… beneath you.”
    She looks at me before she leaves, sadly shaking her head. “ You be careful, Tenny. Being a snob can make a person very, very ugly.”

5) FACTOIDS
    I never considered myself a bully. I never considered myself a snob. But then, who does? There’s a way to objectively analyze it. All you have to do is look at the facts.
    Fact #1) I’m reasonably smart. I’m no genius, but I get good grades without ever having to try. It really ticks off the kids who have to study their brains out to make the grade. It’s not like I brag about it, but my mere existence is enough to breed resentment in certain circles.
    Fact # 2) I’m coordinated. Not my fault either, I just came that way. It made it easier for me to excel at sports when I was a kid and to build the skills to be a contender in quite a few of them.
    Fact #3) I’m reasonably decent looking. I’m no pretty boy, and I don’t have six-pack abs or anything; but when it comes to looks, confidence counts for a lot, and I’m nothing if notconfident. Between you and me, I think I project a lot better looking than I actually am.
    Fact #4) We’re not exactly hurting for money. We’re by no means rich, but we don’t go hungry either. Both Mom and Dad have tenure at the university and pull in decent salaries. They drive modest but respectable cars, and I suspect that when Brontë and I start driving, we’ll both get our own modest but respectable cars.
    So, does all this make me a snob? Is it wrong for me