Page 22 - Fire Your Personal Trainer and Kick Your Own Damn Ass

Fire Your Personal Trainer 19
And Kick Your Own Damn Ass

My problem was that I wasn’t anywhere near as tough or as big as this
other guy, and I had been beaten up by someone who was less than two
years older than me. The kid who told me the story warned me about
the upperclassman. How would I fare with the juniors and seniors?

Regular classes started and I was heading home on the bus with all of
the upperclassman. I was sitting near the front of the bus when someone
tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and a kid handed me an

apple. Once again I was a little slow. My mind just didn’t work this way.
What the heck was I supposed to do with an apple?

I looked around and realized I was supposed to pass the apple on to
someone else. I decided not to. I didn’t make a big show out of it; I just
didn’t do it. I may have been only a freshman but this seemed really
silly. (“Silly” isn’t the right word, but remember, this book doesn’t have
profanity.)

A nervous underclassman walked to the front of the bus where I was
sitting and told me I was being summoned to the last seat on the back
of the bus by a group of three or four annoyed seniors. I turned around
and saw them looking at me so off I went. They told me to sit down in the
last seat and surrounded me. One of them leaned over and asked me,
“what’s your name?”

I smiled at him and replied in a smart-alecky way, “What’s your name?”

The young man who asked me the question flew into a rage and
punched me in the head. His friends panicked and grabbed him to stop
him from hitting me again. This wasn’t supposed to be happening! What
if the bus driver stopped the bus? What if the school found out what
just happened? What was a senior doing punching a freshman over a
frigging apple? They tried to calm him down.