James
Worms
Just because James had redeeming qualities did not mean he was completely innocent. As a matter of fact, I caught a lot of flack because of him. Supposedly a “smart girl” like me shouldn’t have been following the example of a “trouble maker”. However, it was kind of difficult to separate us when we saw each other practically twenty-four hours a day. No matter the stunt, no matter the time, I always managed to get wrapped up with James and his ludicrous shenanigans.
The fifth grade classroom was completely empty, save for a scrawny boy and his short, curly-haired accomplice.
“Okay, Eve, you’ve got the worms, right?” James whispered to me while opening the teacher’s unattended desk drawer. I nodded in response, shivering slightly at the squirmy, slimy things in my hands. The only protection I had from their icky secretions was a little napkin placed like a bowl in my open palms. My quivering finally ceased when the napkin was taken out of my hands by a grinning James.
“Do you know what the only thing grosser than a live worm is?” I shook my head nervously. If it was possible, James’ grin broadened. “A lot of dead ones!” I squealed as he squished the napkin in his hands and placed it in the teacher’s math book. “That will teach her to get us in trouble for something we didn’t do!” I laughed at this. James was convinced Ms. Jenson had a personal vendetta against him and his friends. He had recruited me to help him get back at her for blaming his fellow fifth-grade friends for drawing on her chalk board. Needless to say, he took the accusation personally.
As we walked out of the room, I ran headlong into an auburn-haired boy walking in the door. I fell ungracefully to the ground and was mortified to hear raucous laughter coming from the two boys near me. “Watch where you’re going, jerk!” I snapped at the boy laughing beside James. “It’s not my fault you’re blind, Ms. Foureyes!” the boy shot back with a grin on his face. James was cackling, but stopped short when we heard the telltale “clack” of high heels from down the hallway. Like little miscreant bats out of hell, the three of us ran like there was no tomorrow until we hit the blacktop of the playground.
“God, what were you two—” the boy began, but was cut off when a scream of both fear and rage was heard from the classroom. This sent James and I into fits of laughter, while the boy just raised his eyebrows in confusion. James explained between fits of giggles, and soon the three of us were hollering so loud the entire playground had turned to look.
Later, while I was sitting in after school detention with my two partners in crime, the boy introduced himself as Gregory Lawson.
The fifth grade classroom was completely empty, save for a scrawny boy and his short, curly-haired accomplice.
“Okay, Eve, you’ve got the worms, right?” James whispered to me while opening the teacher’s unattended desk drawer. I nodded in response, shivering slightly at the squirmy, slimy things in my hands. The only protection I had from their icky secretions was a little napkin placed like a bowl in my open palms. My quivering finally ceased when the napkin was taken out of my hands by a grinning James.
“Do you know what the only thing grosser than a live worm is?” I shook my head nervously. If it was possible, James’ grin broadened. “A lot of dead ones!” I squealed as he squished the napkin in his hands and placed it in the teacher’s math book. “That will teach her to get us in trouble for something we didn’t do!” I laughed at this. James was convinced Ms. Jenson had a personal vendetta against him and his friends. He had recruited me to help him get back at her for blaming his fellow fifth-grade friends for drawing on her chalk board. Needless to say, he took the accusation personally.
As we walked out of the room, I ran headlong into an auburn-haired boy walking in the door. I fell ungracefully to the ground and was mortified to hear raucous laughter coming from the two boys near me. “Watch where you’re going, jerk!” I snapped at the boy laughing beside James. “It’s not my fault you’re blind, Ms. Foureyes!” the boy shot back with a grin on his face. James was cackling, but stopped short when we heard the telltale “clack” of high heels from down the hallway. Like little miscreant bats out of hell, the three of us ran like there was no tomorrow until we hit the blacktop of the playground.
“God, what were you two—” the boy began, but was cut off when a scream of both fear and rage was heard from the classroom. This sent James and I into fits of laughter, while the boy just raised his eyebrows in confusion. James explained between fits of giggles, and soon the three of us were hollering so loud the entire playground had turned to look.
Later, while I was sitting in after school detention with my two partners in crime, the boy introduced himself as Gregory Lawson.