My Miserable Life (12 page)

Read My Miserable Life Online

Authors: F. L. Block

BOOK: My Miserable Life
8.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Remember when I chased Serena around the yard for Rocko? Ms. Washington wants me to write an essay on why that's not cool, and I know she's right, but for some reason I can't think of what to write.”

“Maybe you did it because you want Serena and Rocko to like you. And you chose Rocko over Serena because she was chasing him instead of you.”

That about summed it up.

 

MARCH

WHY IT'S NOT A GOOD IDEA TO PLAY UNSUPERVISED CHASING GAMES AT RECESS

by Ben Hunter

I'm sorry for the incident involving an unsupervised chasing game at recess. I believe I did this because I wanted to be liked by my classmates, but in the end, the classmate I wanted to like me the most was the one who could've gotten hurt. I will do my best to refrain from committing such a reprehensible action in the future.

The reason this should not happen again is that it could interrupt other students who are having a peaceful recess. Also, fellow students could fall and scrape their faces off. In addition, I could fall and scrape my face off.

This behavior will not happen again, because we want to keep our faces on our face.

 

CHAPTER 13

SPELLING BEE'S KNEES

In March we had a spelling bee. Ms. Washington called it “the Spelling Bee's Knees.”

Everyone else messed up on their words except Rocko and me. We stood at the front of the classroom under the hanging solar system and in front of the instructions on how to write an essay. Rocko and I were supposed to each spell three words at a time until someone messed up.

Ms. Washington picked a word out of the basket.

“Rocko, how do you spell
able
? Use it in a sentence, please.”

“Able.
A-B-L-E.
Some people are able to beat others to the fence in Super Sport Baseball Cleat Camp, and they are also able to go to Hawaii for vacation.”

I clenched my fist under the table.

“Correct,” Ms. Washington said, reaching into the basket. “Now please spell
fragile
.”

“Fragile.
F-R-A-G-I-L-E
. Some people's bones are more fragile than other people's bones.”

I bit my lip, which can be dangerous when your front teeth are as big as mine.

“Correct, Rocko,” said Ms. Washington, picking another word. “And now please spell
temper
.”

“Temper.
T-E-M-P-E-R.
Some people have a bad temper and try to hit you when you ask them if they had a nice winter break.”

“Okay, very good. Now it's Ben's turn. Ben, how do you spell
detrimental
?” Ms. Washington asked. “And please put it in a sentence.” She smiled at me like a movie star on the red carpet, all proud, as if she expected me to rock this one.

I looked at Rocko and thought about my broken clavicle that had probably healed crooked and would never be a normal clavicle again. “Detrimental.
D-E-T-R-I-M-E-N-T-A-L
. Some people are detrimental to my health.”

“Correct. How do you spell
treachery
?”

Easy peasy. “Treachery.
T-R-E-A-C-H-E-R-Y.
Breaking someone's collarbone may be considered treachery.”

Ms. Washington smiled at me with her big brown eyes, very much like bigger, darker versions of the eyes of Serena Perl, who, incidentally, was looking not at me but at Rocko Hoggen.

“Your last word, Ben, is
teachable
.”

Maybe I was distracted by Serena Perl, but all of a sudden, I just saw these letters playing a crazy basketball game in front of my eyes, bouncing all around in a blur. “Teachable.
T-E-A-C-H-A-B-E-L
. We try to train my dog, Monkeylad, but he's not teachable.”

Ms. Washington looked sad, with all the usually upward-turning parts of her face turning down.

“I'm sorry, Ben. That's not correct. Rocko?”

“Teachable.
T-E-A-C-H-A-B-L-E,
” said Rocko Hoggen. “Some people misspell words and are not teachable.”

Everyone laughed. Including Leif Zuniga and Serena Perl.

“That's enough, Rocko.”

“Sorry, Ben,” he said. He actually sounded like he meant it.

“Good work, boys.” Ms. Washington held up a medal with a picture of a bee on it and pinned it on Rocko Hoggen. “Congratulations. You're the bee's knees. Okay, class, time for recess.”

Ms. Washington asked me to stay and talk to her—“Ben, Ben, please”—but I was already running outside as fast as I could go.

Unfortunately, you can't outrun everything.

Ella Bean and Regina Mendez joined me. I slowed down to be nice when they called my name. Big mistake.

“Hi, Ben,” they said.

“Hi.”

“Can we have your Darters jersey?” Regina asked.

“Sorry, no.”

“But we want it. It's cool.” They started to chase me, so I ran fast.

“I bet he'd give it to Serena if she asked,” Ella said.

“Hey, Ben,” Regina yelled after me, “Serena told me she doesn't like you. At all. Not even as a friend.”

Have I mentioned that my life is miserable?

 

BAD THINGS

Life is full of bad things that can happen. Here are some of them. Someone could get stuck with needles. Someone could cut themselves on someone else's spiked leather boots. Someone could fall on the playground and scrape their face off. Someone could be attacked by wild demon dogs who want to lick off all their sunscreen.

These are just a few of the bad things that can happen in life.

 

CHAPTER 14

REAL-LIFE MONSTERS

Ms. Washington took me aside at recess the next day.

“Ben, I want to talk to you.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Is everything all right at home?”

I was so frustrated that I just started talking. I couldn't stop. I told Ms. Washington about all the things that had been bothering me since Christmas. Tree and Thursday and camp and my bike. I don't know if I made any sense. But I didn't tell Ms. Washington about the thing that was bothering me the most: Serena Perl.

“Maybe we should have a conference with your mom,” Ms. Washington said.

*   *   *

The next day my mom came in.

“Ben seems a little upset,” Ms. Washington began as we sat in the kid chairs in my classroom that made my mom's and Ms. Washington's knees come up too high. “He said something about a girl who painted his room black.”

“I know,” said my mom. “I feel terrible. My friend's daughter came to stay with us over Christmas, and she'd changed a lot. She painted Ben's room. And she nailed something to his bed.”

“Made my bed into a coffin,” I said.

My mom looked very upset. “We dismantled that, but I haven't had a chance to repaint, so Ben's been staying with his sister until we do.” She looked at me. “I'm sorry, Ben.”

“Ben also said something about needles?”

“Oh, yes. That must have worried you. Acupuncture needles,” my mom said. “My friend Tree has been giving me acupuncture, which has helped a lot. I tend to get a little anxious.”

“Ben, is there anything else you want to talk about?” Ms. Washington asked.

Not Serena Perl!
But I did think about mentioning my bike. “No,” I said.

“It would be great to talk about how you are feeling. Are you sure?”

I nodded but wouldn't look at Ms. Washington.

*   *   *

My mom was really quiet on the way home. When we got there, she said, “Your teacher did the right thing calling me in, Ben. I want you to know that you can always talk to me about anything.”

I thought about my shiny new bike. All I wanted was to ride it by myself in the fresh air and let the wind blow the day out of my head, let my legs pedal away the stress. Even though Tree had come over to ride with me a few times, it wasn't enough. And I still felt a little awkward with him.

“Why won't you let me ride my bike by myself!” I shouted at my mom.

She sat down next to me. “Ben, I have to explain something to you. There's a reason I won't let you ride your bike alone. And it isn't because I'm mean.”

“No, it's because you are a safe mom!” I shouted, like it was the worst insult I could think of. Except to mention her messy hair and yoga pants, which seemed a little below the belt.

“I think it's time for me to be straight with you, Ben. I don't want to scare you, but there are dangerous people out there.”

Other books

Beyond Redemption by India Masters
Every Last Drop by Charlie Huston
Thief: Devil's Own MC by West, Heather
In a Stranger's Arms by Deborah Hale
The Day of the Owl by Leonardo Sciascia
The Woman of Rome by Alberto Moravia
Lights Out Tonight by Mary Jane Clark
Mimesis by Erich Auerbach,Edward W. Said,Willard R. Trask