The Fat Boy Chronicles (20 page)

The game was a good one and we hit a home run in the bottom of the sixth to win. Roston High got the bases loaded in the top of the seventh, but we turned a double play to end the game. I think that if we can win the next few games, we get in the playoffs. I overheard some fathers talking about our players and one of them, Matt O'Connell, is going to Ohio State on a scholarship, which is pretty cool. Maybe he'll play for the Reds one day, and I can say I went to high school with him.

I didn't realize until halfway through the game that Nate and his
dad were sitting in the next set of bleachers over. I saw Nate's dad look over at us while he was talking to Nate. The next inning, while the pitcher was warming up, his dad got up and started walking toward us. I got nervous and my dad sat up. When he got to us, he shook my dad's hand and then mine. He told me, “You should be proud of what you've accomplished this year.” Then he turned to my dad and said, “And so should you.” He kind of hesitated and looked real hard at my dad. “We all have our goals.”

It feels good now but I hope I never forget the way it was. Otherwise, I might be right back there. All it takes is Little Debbies, Whoppers and ice cream.

No way.

Sunday, 4–22

We had a great time at Kings Island yesterday. It was really cool, especially since it was just for freshman. The rest of the school goes next week some time. I heard our class goes by itself because the freshman class is always the largest. I don't know where all the freshman go when they get older, maybe to special trade schools or they drop out, but ever since the school opened there have always been more freshman.

Sable hung out with me and Allen, and we had lots of fun, even though waiting in lines all day was a pain. And it was hot. Allen couldn't go on any of the really fast rides because his heart doctor told him not to, but he stood in line with us until we got on. The roller
coaster lines took forever to get through; I think we talked about everything we know by the time we got to the front. When we went down the first big hill, Sable screamed so loud it hurt my ears. Then we rode the bumper cars and I ran her into the wall and she nearly bounced out of the car. After that we rode on the merry–go–round and talked about the cool stuff we are going to do this summer. We really had a blast.

This morning I was really tired but I went to church anyway. Afterward, we went to Bob Evans for lunch. I didn't do much the rest of the day except study. I'm almost done with
The Odyssey
, but my favorite book is still
Lord of the Flies
. (I even like Piggy now.)

Dad and I are going to the baseball game again tomorrow. Dad said he would rather go to our games at school than to a Reds game. He thinks pro games cost way too much money nowadays. I think I'll call Allen to see if he wants to go with us. Kids aren't bothering him as much; he's even lost a few pounds. He said the other day if I could turn into a cool, skinny kid, then maybe he has a chance. I just laughed, because we both know that I'll never be a cool kid, no matter how much weight I lose. And you know, I don't even want to be one. Not if it means turning out like Nate.

Thursday, 4–26

Tonight I tutor Robb in math. Last week Mr. L told him that if he keeps working hard, he should have no problem passing Algebra I. And I think he's doing pretty good in his Algebra II class too. That
would be great because he really has tried to do his best. Everyone has something they're good at, I suppose. Robb called yesterday to make sure we were still on for tonight. It makes me feel good to help him, but he doesn't want his buddies to know that he is getting help from a freshman. I can understand that.

This morning I saw a bluebird at the suet feeder Mom put in the backyard. It's been a long time since I've seen one. Probably sometime last fall, maybe even before we moved. When the light hit it just right, it was such a bright blue, it was like a piece of the sky flying around on earth. I called Mom to see it, but the bird flew away before she got there. I'll pay more attention and show her one this week.

It's almost time for Robb to come over so I need to eat dinner. Only five more Mondays to get up and then it will be summer. What a crazy school year!

Friday, 4–27

God really is testing me. Not as bad as He tested Job, but almost. What more can happen to my close friends? I feel like that guy on
Lost
—the big kid who won the lottery by using unlucky numbers. After he won, he brought bad luck to everyone associated with him. Guess you heard about Allen and how he fell over in PE class. I heard Coach Simmons made all the kids run around the gym for goofing off, and I guess it was too much for Allen. I didn't know that anything happened until lunchtime. Sable came running up to me and told
me about how Coach performed CPR and then the ambulance came. We were afraid he'd died of a heart attack. I was glad when the principal came over the intercom and said Allen Zuekerman was doing better. His doctor said he would be just fine in a week or two.

Mom sent him a get–well card, and I'm going to visit him as soon as he can have visitors. Leave it to Allen to scare everybody half to death.

What's sick about the whole thing is that some kids still made fun of him. Acting like they were falling and putting their hands over their heart. I don't get what goes through some people's heads. When I told my mom about it, she said it's all about people judging others but never themselves. I watched a news show once where they were interviewing Mother Teresa. She said, “If we're too busy judging, then we don't have time to love,” or something like that. She was really a cool lady. I mean nun. Whatever.

Tuesday, 5–1

Miracles of miracles. Spencer actually told me he was sorry about Allen. I was at my locker when he came up to me. “Hey, man. I'm really sorry about what happened.”

I looked at him in disbelief and my first reaction was to punch him. But he did look really sorry, so I just shrugged and told him not to worry about it.

“Is he going to be okay?” Spencer asked.

“Who?”

“Allen. I heard he had a heart attack.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. He's gonna be fine. I went to see him Sunday.”

“Glad he's hanging in there.”

I turned back to my locker and didn't say anything else to him, so he left. I still don't get him. He pretended to be friends with me and Allen and even defended us. But in the end he betrayed us, especially me. It doesn't make any sense. I mean, how did setting me up make his life any different or any better? Maybe for a day he was sort of a hero and got a few laughs. But now he has to live with what he did. I certainly do. For a jerk like Nate, this wouldn't be a big deal, but Spencer's different. I think deep down he's really a nice guy—he just got caught up in what Robb calls the “jock mentality.” Robb said his cousin played football at UT and the football team really did some awful things to this hooker who came to one of their parties. His cousin feels really ashamed of what he did. He says he'll have to live with it for the rest of his life and that he'll never get over it. Whenever he sees guys acting crude around a woman, he always tells them to knock it off. It's his way of trying to make up for what he did. This is how I bet Spencer feels. That's why he said he was sorry about Allen. He just can't apologize to me yet.

Thursday, 5–3

Seems weird to have both Sable and Allen back in school. Neither of them looks any different, except Allen has lost a little weight. I'm probably the only one that noticed though. Poor Allen, he's on this
strict diet, way worse than Weight Watchers, and says he's starving most of the time. He said he'd kill for french fries; I told him they would kill him first. I was sorry as soon as I said it. But he just laughed and said he didn't want to go back to the hospital again. “Ever since I saw the movie
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
, I don't trust hospitals, especially nurses. They tried to talk to me about eating too much. And some of them are bigger than me,” Allen grumbled. That's what I don't get. There are more overweight adults than overweight kids, but it's us kids who get ridiculed the most. I guess it's because people think of kids as naturally skinny, and middle–aged adults as naturally fat. But fat is fat, no matter what age a person is. Bad is bad.

I forgot to mention the latest news about the second victim. She was another overweight teenage girl but a couple of years younger than Kimberly Taylor. She went to school at Westwood High, way on the other side of town. If Paul was around, I bet he would want us to go check it out. It really makes me wonder if the killer found out Paul was trying to catch him. Maybe losing weight is saving me in more ways than I know.

Sunday, 5–6

Please Don't Read This Page

I had my first real date this weekend. It was with Sable. It was kind of awkward at first, because she was the one who asked me out. She put a note in my locker, asking me out for coffee and dessert Saturday night. When I called her about it, she said her mom would
drop us off and pick us up. When I told my mom about it, my sister overhead me. “Jimmy's going on a date!” she squealed and grabbed her heart.

“Yeah, and I won't be sneaking in at two in the morning.”

“Shut up, Jimmy.”

Mom just rolled her eyes.

My sister and Mom were acting so stupid about the whole thing, it seemed like forever before Sable and her mom picked me up. It felt funny with her mom driving and me and Sable sitting in the back. I kept trying to include Mrs. Moore in the conversation so she wouldn't think Sable and I were trying to make out or anything. But Sable didn't help matters any. She kept smiling at me and moving real close. It seemed like forever before we got to Starbucks. Her mom was real cool though, and when we got out of the car, she said, “Have a good time.”

The last time I had been in Starbucks was the afternoon Paul and I hid in the restroom from my sister and her friends. I hadn't thought about that for months. That was a close call. I hate to think what my sister would have done had she seen us.

A sense of relief washed over me as we went inside.

“What do you usually drink?” Sable asked as we walked up to the counter.

“Water, usually.”

“You need to try one of their coffee drinks. They are soooo good.”

Sable knew what she wanted right away, and ordered a venti mocha with whipped cream. It took me longer to make up my mind
because I don't really like coffee. I finally settled on a sugar–free vanilla latte with skim milk. The cheesecake in the case looked good, so I decided to splurge. I had watched my points all day so I had enough left to get dessert. Sable ordered a large piece of chocolate cake with raspberry sauce inside.

“Guess you're eating again,” I said as I pulled out my wallet.

Sable frowned and shook her head. “I asked you, remember? My mom gave me some money. Besides, it's the least I can do for someone who practically saved my life.”

Before I could say anything, the Starbucks guy put our drinks on the counter. “We'll bring your cake over to you,” he said.

We found a table near the front of the store next to a guy reading a newspaper. Right outside the window a group of girls stood around smoking cigarettes. We could hear piped–in guitar music. The place was full of teenagers, but I didn't see anyone I recognized.

“I think I'm getting better, Jimmy. Look.” Sable rolled up her sleeves and there were no fresh scars.

“That's really cool. Bet your parents are happy.”

“Yeah, they've been great. My therapist asked if she could talk with them about some things, so I finally gave her permission. She said they needed to know the truth about why I cut myself.” Sable took a long drink of her mocha. “At first I didn't want them to know —I didn't want to cause trouble in the family, but Annie, my therapist, said there already was trouble in the family.”

“I thought it was because of your brother—with his autism and everything.”

“That was part of it. Annie said I was mad because my brother's
problems were visible, but no one could see mine. And I wanted my parents to know that I was way more messed up than my brother.”

The guy came with our desserts and left.

“Do you want me to tell you why?” Sable asked.

“It doesn't matter. You'd still be the same old Sable to me.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” she said, looking relieved. “But I need to let you know that I'm not as freaky as I seem.” She took another sip of her mocha and cleared her throat. “It was my grandfather. He was a real creep—he used to watch me when I was little. He died when I was seven. My mom cried when I told her about Pa Pa. She said she was so sorry; she should have paid more attention. There were always rumors about him. My grandmother divorced him when my mom was only five, so she never really knew him that much.” She looked down at her coffee. “He seemed like a nice guy when they reconnected years later. Mom's older sister hated him, but never said why. Mom was thrilled that he liked me so much; she thought he was just a doting grandfather.” Sable had tears in her eyes and I took her hand.

“It's not fair, Sable. It's not fair you had to go through all that. Your grandfather's the freak, not you. Oh my God, like in
Lord of the Flies
, your grandfather was the beast. I just don't get things. I don't get why people are mean. Why do adults hurt little, helpless kids? It's no wonder kids hurt each other. I mean, it's really bad when people are considered heroes for only doing what's right. Like that guy in the news they made a big deal out of because every year he gives poor kids money for school supplies. My dad does stuff like that all the time, and he would be embarrassed if the news people called him a hero.”

Sable stared at me for a while. Then she said, “Do you want to go somewhere and make out?”