Despite the distractions from his own demons Jonathan is not oblivious to the goings-on in school. Tales and gossip of the student body’s torment by a group of bullies called “The Gang of Six” and their regular “persons of interest” are commonplace among the halls and classrooms. Listening, Jonathan learns of the group of bullies and who their targets are. It’s mostly the nerds and odd ducks, often too small or too timid to defend themselves. The dark haired girl is a particular favorite. Their leader Jason, is in his history class and rarely a day goes by he doesn't mock or insult her. It seems the only way for her to avoid his berating is to remain silent. Which is her usual condition. Even the teacher tries to shield her by leaving the girl be.

Two months into the school year, the Library, Jonathan's lunchtime oasis closes for recarpeting. Having lost this haven of solitude he’s forced to seek an alternative place to sit out lunch. The cafeteria aside, the quad is the only other common area open to students during lunch. It’s a large open area about 200’ x 200’. At each corner a different wing of the school extends on a diagonal from the quad. Much like a giant “X” with a square in the middle. There are planters and benches at each corner of the quad with covered walkways around the perimeter. He selects an empty bench by the gym wing and settles down to study. “Hey asshole! What the hell do you think you are doing!” Jonathan looks up to see 5 of the gang of six standing over him. The speaker is Mark, the shortest, mouthiest of the group next to the leader. He has a short-man’s complex with a sarcastic attitude. “I said what the hell do you think you're doing? Asshole!”

Unmoved Jonathan returns to his reading. “Why don't you tell me.”

“I'll tell you dick-wad! You're in our spot and if you don't get the fuck outta here we’re gonna kick your ass!”

“Really? All five of you just to kick my ass? I’m flattered.” This only enrages the short bully.

Mark starts to say something when Jason, the group’s leader appears.

“It’ll be six of us if you don't haul ass you shit-bag faggot!” There is a crowd starting to gather and their presence eggs the group on. The six all start throwing every foul name and insult they can at Jonathan. Really imaginative ones, like faggot, cock-sucker, shit-head, dick-wad and so on.

Jonathan has had enough. Without a word he abruptly stands up and moves straight into the group, right at Jason. He doesn’t give a damn and the devil-may-care look on his face shows it.

The action is unexpected and the bully, taken off guard, takes a step backwards bumping into his lieutenants. Jonathan without pause walks right into the middle of them. The group has never had someone stand up to them en masse and are unsure how to react. Of their own volition like wheat before a scythe, they part before the new kid. Jonathan keeps moving satisfied to find another spot. It’s Mark who recovers first. “Yeah run away you fucking faggot!”

Again Jonathan's reaction is unexpected. He turns on his heel and instead of confronting Mark, he puts his face inches from the leader Jason's. Nose to nose, his tone is flat even and threateningly matter of fact. “Know this bub. I'm not running. You children just aren't worth my time. If you don’t believe it, bring it.” Jason does nothing. After a moment Jonathan turns and walks off. He’s twenty feet away before Jason recovers enough to unleash a new stream of insults. - As it is in every school, by the end of the day multiple versions of the event spread like wildfire. Among them: The new kid isn’t afraid of the gang of six. He practically kicked all their asses on the quad. Another is he got in the gang’s way and they slapped him around before running him off crying like a baby. Neither is true.

Jonathan for his part gives little thought to them and wanders around the quad’s perimeter until he finds another unoccupied bench. It’s over by the arts wing. Where the music, drama club, choir, journalism and arts classes are held. The bench is old and in disrepair. Even the planter behind it is in need of weeding.

With a sigh he mumbles to himself, “This will have to do,... until someone else claims it.” Opening his history book he takes a seat and goes back to studying.

“Uh-um H-hi.” He looks up into a pair of nervous grey-green eyes behind black square rimmed glasses. Glasses set on a pert nose centered on a pretty creamy white face framed with black hair in a 40s style haircut. His heart skips a beat.

Quickly the boy stands almost tripping on his own feet. It's now his turn to stammer, “Uh-um H-hello.” Why the heck is he suddenly nervous? And sweating?

Her laugh is just as nervous, “Hi… I’m Shelby. I-I usually sit here during lunch… I...I can go if you want to be alone.”

It takes a moment for her words to register… “Oh...No. No, I'll go. It’s your spot, after all.”

“NO!” She almost shouts the word. ”I mean... please stay.” Without realizing it she tilts her head and smiles at him. “I'd be happy to share me...my! I mean this, here, the..the bench I mean! With you.” She can feel her face turn crimson at the fumblings.

Jonathan feels himself smiling for the first time in months. “I’d like that. I'm Jonathan.” He suddenly remembers his manners. With a slight bow, “Miss, Would you join me? Please?”

Shelby giggles at his chivalry, then curtsies “Thank you kind sir” and takes a seat on the old bench.

Trying to think of something to say Shelby grabs for the first thing she can think of, “I saw the G.O.P. go after you back there? Weren't you afraid?”

“Of them? No. Their strength comes from their number and the fear everyone has of them. I'm just not bright enough to be afraid I guess. I've never liked bullies. What's the G.O.P.?”

“It's my nickname for them They call themselves 'The gang of six’ lots of kids call them 'The gang of pricks’, I shortened it to the G.O.P.”, they both laugh at the pun.

One laugh leads to the next and before either realize the bell has rung and they are walking to the next class. It’s calculus III and they have the same teacher. They are the last to enter, when they walk in together talking and laughing, the class falls silent staring. Suddenly self-conscious Shelby excuses herself and takes her seat. Puzzled Jonathan takes his. After class she hurries off before he can talk to her. They have two more classes together before school ends and she avoids him each time. He notes with disappointment she isn't in the library after school either.

The next day Jonathan finds her nervously glancing at him through the first three periods of school. She has a different study hall than him for fourth period and he spends the class unfocused and anxious. At lunch he finds himself hurrying to the bench in hopes of another meeting. The boy waits…

Lunch is almost over before a shadow falls across the history book he is trying, (and failing) to concentrate on.

“H-hi. I suppose an explanation is in order…” She’s wearing a 50’s style blue poodle skirt, a distracting form fitting black and white striped top, saddle shoes, and matching kerchief tied about her neck. His breath catches in his chest.

“Shelby.” He stands to face her,”If I said or did something wrong… Well, I'm sorry. Please tell me so I can make it up to you.”

“Oh No! It’s me that owes you an apology Jonathan. And an explanation. You see when we walked into class and all the kids were silent staring at us,... can we sit? “

As she sits she smooths her skirt and lowers her eyes, “Jonathan, I...I’m different than the other girls, and when everyone was staring at us. At me, and at you... I just don't want anyone to get a bad opinion of you because of me.” She clutches her books tightly to her chest and again tries but fails to meet his gaze. “I'm an outsider here and I don't want the other kids to treat you the same because you are friendly to me. I just wanted you to know.” She stands to go tears welling in her eyes.

Jonathan reaches out and stops her with a touch. “Please don't go. Stay. It would be nice if you would, if just to talk with me.”

“But the others…”

“Shelby, I don't care about the others. You were the first person here who's been really friendly to me. I know because until now I haven't wanted to become friends with anyone. I've seen you around, in class, the library and I think even the music rooms” Shelby's blushing tells him he was right, “Then yesterday you made the attempt and it felt good to talk to you... to walk with you. I don't want you to avoid me because of what others might think. It's noble of you but unnecessary. I guess what I'm saying is, Miss Shelby, would you be my friend? I could use one about now. Maybe... you could too?”

Shelby sniffs, wipes her eye, and nods, “I’d like that Jonathan. I'd like that very much!”

That evening in a house which no longer feels like home Jonathan eats a meager meal and reflects on the day's events. Mostly his conversations with Shelby. They had stayed late to do homework in the library and ended up talking so much they were asked to leave. He laughs realizing that was a first for him and likely her too. It’s when his thoughts turn to the "I'm different" remark his guilt rises. He’s reminded of the best friend he had growing up and their experiences. All that they shared together and how her difference didn’t affect their bond. He so misses his friend. She’s still very important to him. But he cannot face her. Not after what he did. It’s part of why he started this new life.

Shelby. The girl keeps permeating his thoughts. What difference could Shelby possess to make her fear for him so? Guilt dictates he shouldn't get close to anyone. In his mind he doesn't deserve a friend. But in his heart he knows he wants this one. It tells him Shelby may already be important to him. Later as he climbs into bed, the house devoid of the sounds which once filled him with joy and security, now empty, cold, silent, he concludes Shelby's difference, no matter what it is, would never have mattered to him.”The truth is,” he whispers into the darkness, “I like her.”

I hope you are enjoying this little tale. Now that the stage is set the story picks up a bit. I've struggled with some sections over time and have revised, struck and rewritten several sections. Finally I've summoned the will to take it out for a test drive. As always feedback is appreciated and helps to make me and these tales better.

v/r
JM