Blog of a Bully (8 page)

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Authors: Stephen Zanzucchi

Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Readers / Chapter Books

BOOK: Blog of a Bully
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If you want happiness for a lifetime, help someone else.

Or they could help me so they can be happy. Where does the line start for the people who need help?

 

Monday, January 10th, 2011

7:34 p.m.

School Worries Confirmed

 

School went well for me today for the most part. Everything seemed normal, like the first day of school. It was like the system-restore button for my school was hit and I was no longer a bully. I didn’t hear any stories, and I told Donald and Hercules to shut their mouths and not utter a single word about me. I wasn’t feared, and I even caught one girl looking me over. That’s what I’m talking about.

Now, I said school went well for the most part. It was so close to being a perfect day until Buzz came right up to me and said that we needed to talk. I am to meet him under the school’s flagpole tonight at eight. I don’t think I will come back alive, so this may be my last post. If I don’t live to type again, you can have my fortune cookies. I am off now to meet up with Buzz. For all of those who are religious, pray for me. For all those who are not religious, wish good thoughts on my behalf. Don’t cry for me, Bloginians.

Something special is coming your way.

Is it the lights that I am suppose to walk into? Or is it the Grim Reaper?

 

Thursday, January 13th, 2011

4:46 p.m.

I’m Alive

 

Yes, I am still alive, but I wish I weren’t. I went to the school’s flagpole to have the talk with Buzz, and I noticed from a distance he was alone. I was suspicious; were Tom and Doyle going to sneak up on me and let me have it? Or worse; did Buzz not want any witnesses?

Well, I stood tall and went to face the music. I can only compare how I felt to a prisoner forced to walk the plank on a pirate ship. You can’t turn around or you will surly die, but you can’t jump in the water with your hands tied behind your back with a thousand miles of ocean between you and land.

Does the prisoner turn and beg for his life? Maybe. Or does he stand tall, walk the down the plank, and face the music with his head held high? Either way is death, but at least you have a choice. I chose the wrong way. I should have run home and informed my parents we’re moving.

I met Buzz. I can really say that I officially met Buzz. I didn’t know the guy until last night. He looked sad. I asked him what’s up, and he told me he found out about the Halloween thing, then he immediately gave me an ultimatum. He said I have a choice; I can help him out for the rest of the year, or he will throw a rock through the principal’s window and make sure I am blamed for it. Without thinking, I chose to help Buzz for the rest of the school year. But if I had only known what I was to do, I would have brought my own rock with my name on it and chucked it through the window without his help.

We went for a walk. I’m glad I brought my jacket, because the cold in Texas is different from the cold in California. The chill really gets down to your bones. We talked about me being new, along with how he knew I was actually a smart kid rather than the bully type that I have socially been marked as. He told me that he made up a few stories about me that couldn’t possibly be true to try to wreck my reputation, but it backfired.

One thing led to another, and our personal war was settled with a peace treaty, with him being the victor. I am to drop out of the public eye at school, and he will continue being the number one dog. No problem there; my grades were really starting to suffer.

I told him that if I was going to help him, then I had a few demands of my own. I told him to leave Donald and Hercules alone. Also to stop picking on Angela. And last, if he wanted my help to pass his classes, then he needed to stop being a bully. He gave me a puzzled look at the last comment, but he agreed to all of them.

We stopped and he said, “Now you gotta help me. Do you know where we are?” I had no idea. He then informed me that we were in front of the principal’s house, and it so happened to be Angela’s house too. Ok, so what? The principal is Angela’s dad. Wait. The principal is Angela’s dad? Holy cow! No wonder she refuses to go out with me; she can’t go out with the bad boys of school. Buzz then told me that he is madly in love with Angela and that he walks by her house every night. That is a little creepy. They have been in the same schools their whole lives, and now he finally wants to ask her out. But he can’t ask her out because her dad hates him. That is when I realized he didn’t want help with his grades; he wanted me to help him ask Angela out. I was to be Buzz’s indentured little cupid. Buzz’s story of his longing to be with Angela went on for another hour or so. Very sad and depressing. I was sworn to secrecy and agreed to help, but I didn’t want to because I like Angela, too. Now I am supposed to help my enemy get the girl of my dreams.

The next day, when I got on the bus, Donald and Hercules looked at me like I had returned from the grave. I couldn’t tell them a thing. I couldn’t think of any story to tell them either, so I pretended not to see them. That was hard, and I am sure I looked stupid, because I have to sit next to Hercules on the bus. But for the rest of the day, I avoided them like the plague.

I can’t think of a thing to do. If you have any ideas, let me know.

Gold is plentiful compared to old friends.

I can’t keep this up long or I will lose my only friends.

 

Tuesday, January 18th, 2011

6:19 p.m.

A Dream That You Wish Will Come True

 

Dear readers, your wishes have come true. Most of you commented that I don’t need Donald and Hercules as friends because all they do is get me into trouble. Well, they are no longer my friends. You’re welcome. I hope you are satisfied.

I went to school, trying to avoid those two again because I still had no plan. During lunch they confronted me about the situation. They heard about Buzz wanting to hang me on the flag pole after school. I told them he just wanted to talk. Naturally, they wanted to know what we had to talk about, and I couldn’t tell them. I’m not a perfect child, but I try my best to stay true to promises I make. I did tell them that Buzz will not bother them anymore and that my life as a bully is over.

They didn’t care so much about that; they just wanted to know the secret. I reminded them that I cannot tell a soul and that if I do, some seriously bad things will happen to me. They still wanted to know. I asked them if they even cared that I would get hurt if I told, and they just sat there with ridiculous looks on their faces and continued to hassle me about the secret. Some friends, huh?

Donald got up and started yelling at me that I’m a terrible friend who hides things from him. I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. I stood up, with him still yelling in my face, and within seconds there was a crowd of students surrounding us, chanting, “Fight, fight, fight.” Hercules was sitting on the bench in between us.

I yelled back at Donald, telling him how dumb he was for making up stories about me and that he would be Cowardly Donald without me. That’s when the name calling started.

“Nerd!”

“Shrimp!”

“Geek!”

“Loser!”

I even called him a few bad things in Italian that I heard my grandpa say when he was mad. I had no idea what these words meant and I don’t want to know, but they sounded hurtful. I even called him “Sucky Tuna.” Then he went too far. I don’t think he thought it would hurt me, but it did. He said, “You have a stupid little sister with a small brain!” I balled up my fists and charged. I know violence is not the answer—when two people are done pummeling each other, they will still be mad—but I couldn’t help myself.

Hercules got up and stopped me. Donald accused Hercules of being on my side, and he agreed. He said Donald’s plan of creating a bully was over. Filled with anger, Donald stormed out of the lunch area before a single teacher could show up. The crowd cleared, and I had a talk with Hercules. I thanked him and told him he didn’t have to do that.

 

He agreed, but then he informed me that I wasn’t the first kid they’d made into a bully. He told me that Donald has always felt insecure about being small and skinny, so back in sixth grade they were friends with Buzz. They talked him up, and before they knew it, he was the school bully.

I asked why Donald is called Cowardly Donald if he helped turn Buzz into a bully. Hercules said that was part of the plan. Buzz would pick on Donald to get the rest of the students to fear him. But eventually Donald wanted the fame, so he told Buzz to take a hit or two from Donald so he would be known as the guy who took down Buzz. Didn’t happen, and Buzz went solo.

When I moved in, Donald decided to make me the bully so I could take down Buzz. I see it all so clearly now. So I asked Hercules if he was going to remain on my side or go back to Donald. Hercules said he had been friends with Donald for years and would go back to Donald, but he would be a middleman and let me know if Donald started planning to try anything new that I should know about. I thanked Hercules and he left. Just like that, I have no friends and I have to hook up Buzz with the girl I like. I’m telling you, life just doesn’t get better than this. I’m so glad I didn’t stay in California; I would have missed all this fun and excitement. That’s sarcasm again, by the way.

Your heart is a place to draw true happiness.

Oh, I forgot. Happiness comes from my heart. So is a heart attack too much happiness coming out all at once? Whatever cookie.

Sorry cookie, I shouldn’t take my anger out on you.

 

Wednesday, January 26th, 2011

8:17 p.m.

Ode to Angela

 

Today I met with Buzz for a few minutes after school to talk about what he wants to do and what his limits are. He flat out doesn’t mind looking like a fool to really impress Angela. That is an excellent place to start. No guts, no glory.

I told him we will start small with a poem, but I will not write it for him. He is to come up with the things he wants to say on his own, and I will help organize the ideas into a real poem. I also told him it would be a good idea to treat Angela like a dog. You get a ball or stick, and the dog gets excited. You shake the item back and forth to get the dog even more excited, you chuck the item as far as you can, and then the dog will chase it with all of its heart.

He was completely confused, and I must admit I confused myself a little. So I told him we will not put his name on the poem; it will be from a secret admirer, and we will stuff the poem in her locker. Later we will do something bigger and then something even bigger, until Angela is too excited and chases the stick.

Buzz was still confused, but at least by then I knew what I was talking about. I told him the school is having an end-of-the-year dance sometime in late April or early May. The goal is to get Angela to go to the dance with Buzz. Girls love to dance, so having Buzz ask Angela to the dance will be a great way to break the ice. I told him being a bully is off limits and that he needs to get his grades up. He agreed, and he left to write his poem. Now I need to study up on creative ways to ask girls out. That will make it more difficult for her to say no. Any help would be appreciated.

Someone is speaking well of you.

Speaking well of me? Well now, that is a deep subject. Get it? Well . . . deep hole that holds water, oil, or gas? Never mind.

 

Sunday, January 30th, 2011

9:37 p.m.

Where for Art Thou

 

Apparently I have a few Romeos that read my blog. Your suggestions are fantastically superb. One person suggested making a big, colorful poster asking Angela out and then taping the poster at the top of the hood of her car, but on the inside so that once you open the hood it slings out into view. Then unhook the battery cable. That way, when she tries to start her car, it won’t work. So she will pop the hood, lift it, and the sign will swing out. Naturally, I should make an extra note saying the battery is unhooked. That way it is done creatively and she gets the picture.

I love it, but you need to realize she is only thirteen and doesn’t drive. Besides, what if she doesn’t think to check the hood and has the car towed home? That would stink. But I love the idea and may use it in the future.

Another great idea that would take much preparation would be to make a video. Just a simple commercial, but at the end of the video, you ask the girl out. The reader said he actually did this. He had a movie night, invited the girl along with her friends, flipped on the movie, dashed off in the middle of the movie to get flowers, and then was back for the end. When she turned around, he was standing there with flowers and she said yes through her tears.

I got goose bumps just thinking about it. But like I said, there is way too much preparation to pull that trick off. Her friends might have to be in on it, and I’d have to coordinate a movie night. Too much, but the results sound great.

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