Last December Read Free

for the hockey team were after school, and even though I knew I probably wouldn’t make it, I was sick of talking about hockey with dorky Alan and Brendan (they both don’t even play equipment-hockey anymore) and I was totally bored with my stupid life.
    Anyways, it was really cold out, probably like –1, and my hands were freezing because I forgot my gloves at home. And Ma hadn’t remembered to make my lunch because she said she had “baby brain,” which isn’t even really a scientific term, so I said, “There’s no such thing as ‘baby brain,’” and she stared at me for like an hour, and I said, “What???” and then she said, “Hon, I’m sorry, I’m late. Can you make your own sandwich today?” and I shrugged because she always always makes my lunch, so I just said, “Fine,” and she said, “Steven,” and I didn’t say anything, and then she came over and hugged me and messed my hair and said, “My … number … one … guy,” andI just pushed her away and said, “I’m late and I’ve got to make a stupid sandwich,” and when I was making it I was so pissed because I was pretty sure “baby brain” was just a stupid excuse for nothing.
    And when I got to the sidewalk I was rushing like crazy, and I almost slipped a couple of times, where people hadn’t shoveled or hadn’t put salt down. And I actually remember looking down at where people had put the salt, how it eats through the ice and makes these holes and how I thought it looked like the pictures I saw of the planet Pluto, and I was thinking about how far away Pluto was (it’s very, very, very far away, Sam) and how totally strange it was that time was sort of passing on Pluto just like it was passing here and I wondered what it would be like to be there, and I thought it would be nice and peaceful.
    Then all of a sudden, because I was sort of looking down as I ran, I saw something I didn’t want to see, so I slowed down. There was one pair of army boots with red laces and one pair of black shoes with tapered black pants, and I knew right away without looking up that it was the skinhead and the mod, the ones who have their lockers near me. And when I finally lifted my head, I tried not to look them in the eyes, and to pretend that they weren’t really standing in my way—they just happened to be going in the other direction. But I kind of knew better, because whenever I’d see the skinhead and the mod in the hallway, I’d always stare at them because I couldn’t help myself, and I think they noticed that I was sort of fascinated and scared and way way smaller than them. So I just continued walking past them on the right, with my pads around my neck and myequipment over my left shoulder, but I didn’t even step off the curb to get around them.
    That’s right, Sam, I just held my ground on the sidewalk, and even though I knew deep down that my bag was going to create a space problem, I kept walking straight on through, which is crazy because my heart was pounding and I was seriously terrified and you’d think that I’d at least make sure I’d get out of their way.
    So then I guess my bag hit the skinhead, because I heard him say, “What the—?” and before I could even turn around, something hit the side of my head and then all this weight landed on me and I fell on my palms and on my pads a bit and my forehead hit the ice with salt eating through it and when I went to get up, I could feel some warm liquid rolling down between my eyes (it was blood, Sam), and then the skinhead grabbed me by my coat and started shaking me, but I was like a rag doll. And then he started shouting at me, kind of spitting on my face and then he finally stopped.
    And I can’t believe it even now, but for some reason the skin-head looked scared, and so I said something that you wouldn’t think I would, considering my situation.
    I said, “Eff you.”
    And then I suddenly got scared again, Sam, because I saw the skinhead’s fist go back to punch