Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders Read online

  It was at this moment that Austin Bates did what he came to do, the bastard (maybe evil genius). He reached into his duffel and pulled out a giant water balloon. I saw it but didn’t know how to react. In a split second, he and several burners began whipping giant water balloon after giant water balloon down onto the cheerleaders. They made direct hits on Kailey and Janessa and the splashes from the impact on the floor pretty well soaked everyone else. The burners kept throwing balloons until the cheerleaders began fleeing and then Austin and Tess ran down the back stairs to the gym floor and slid around in the water and whipped a couple balloons up at us.

  Everybody laughed and screamed. Randall and Jake were totally cheering them on too.

  Yes, sir. Gamer Nick got it all on video. Lots of people were taking pictures of the cheerleaders pressed against the walls too, not just Nick.

  Then?

  Then in came Deevers and Big Boobs. The stripper music was still playing. It sounded quiet compared to the noise we’d just made. Big Boobs clicked it off as they made it to the middle of the gym.

  Most people were already running for the door. I stayed. So did Randall, Jake, and Gore. Austin and Tess bolted back out the side entrance of the gym and out of the building.

  First thing Mr. Deevers said was, “Randall? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m lodging an official complaint, Mr. Deevers.”

  “This isn’t your business.”

  “You know it is. I’ll be talking at you later, man.” Then he turned to me. “Why don’t you dudes join us up on stage for a song Sunday night?”

  “Yeah. Okay. Cool,” I said.

  “Cool. Take it easy, Gabe,” he said. Then he nodded and he and Jake, the bongo guy, left, leaving me and Gore alone with the aftermath.

  I looked back down at Deevers and Big Boobs. Deevers’s face was on fire, sir. His eyes were burning!

  “Chunk. Get your ass down here right now.”

  I stood. I didn’t say anything.

  “Chunk. Down here.”

  “What about me?” Gore asked.

  “I don’t care about you,” Deevers said.

  “No, we’re not coming down, Mr. Deevers. I’d like you to know that you are on notice. The cheerleaders are on notice. We know all about the pop machine.”

  Kailey looked down at the floor. She was soaked. Emily smiled and nodded slow.

  “Duh. We posted signs about the pop machine, you idiot,” Janessa shouted. Her hair was all sopping wet from the balloons.

  “We know that not only did you take the money from the price hike, but you took all the money that accrued in that machine since the beginning of the semester. That’s why our band camp was canceled. That’s how you afford her!” I pointed at Big Boobs.

  I assume I’m right about Big Boobs’s pay.

  I am? You know, Mr. Rodriguez? Good.

  “Really?” Peri Jonas asked.

  “Shut up,” Janessa said.

  “Furthermore, the way in which this whole deal went down shows a complete lack of respect for the band and for geeks in general, a lack of respect that, we suspect, borders on criminal—and we will pursue this, Mr. Deevers. We will not stop pursuing these actions until you have reversed course and put band programming back where it belongs.”

  “Chunk,” Mr. Deevers said, all out of breath. “You’re not supposed to be here. We don’t have…insurance. I don’t know how you all got in without my noticing. But just get out. You’re in over your head. This isn’t your business. You’re cruising for a bruising if you don’t just—”

  “You don’t want Gabe to come down there?” Gore asked. “You wanted Gabe to come down a second ago. Why not now? What changed?”

  Deevers looked visibly shaken, sir. I’m serious. He turned all kinds of colors and looked shaky. I felt…victory. Yeah, victory, for sure.

  “We’ll go. But we need to get our money back and we need to have summer marching rescheduled or else…we’ll be back! We will disrupt again and again!” I shouted.

  Then I turned and tore out of there. Gore followed right behind.

  “Go, go, go!” I shouted.

  “Geekers united!” Gore cried.

  “Go Geekers!” I shouted.

  The parking lot was emptying out. Cars were tearing out of there. It was amazing!

  I don’t know where Randall went after that. He didn’t hang out with the Geekers. Pretty awesome he invited us on stage! Camille really should’ve been there. We got her concert. Maybe she’d be over there at Spunk River Days right now, getting ready, huh?

  How the hell can I get on stage with Wall of Sound tonight? I’m incarcerated!

  Yeah, of course I want to go to the concert.

  I know. Too bad for me, huh? I’m a criminal. Shit.

  No, Camille wasn’t at the protest. She was AWOL. That’s why I know for a fact that she’s Baba Obi, the “I’m sorry” girl. I got all kinds of Facebook messages from Baba Obi. Camille was begging off.

  I got maybe twenty messages in the last two days. Baba Obi? What a crazy-ass name, right? This Baba Obi doesn’t have a single friend on Facebook, sir. She’s not real. And that is a very Camille-sounding made-up name.

  Baba? Like bah? Like a sheep? Camille’s been obsessed with sheep since her dad bought a flock for their farm.

  Oh, sure, yeah. Of course! Ha-ha. I did ask Camille if Baba Obi was her. I texted. I was all like, “What are you doing? Why all the apologies? Don’t have to be sorry. Come on! We’re pals! Just help me out. Help the Geekers!” She didn’t respond.

  She’s a weird girl.

  What did we do when we left the school? We ran! Gore hit that gas pedal and we flew out of the MLAHS parking lot. I turned on my phone. All these Geekers’ texts poured in. Wilson Beach! they proclaimed. You coming, Gabe?

  Hell yes, I texted back.

  I don’t know if there were messages from Dad. I turned the phone back off right away.

  We got to the beach and it was awesome. People were flying high. I was actually psyched that Austin had brought those balloons. We high-fived. (Me and Austin? Crazy.) He said, “You and me make a good team, yo! Brains and the brawn!” I assume he was calling me the brains because he posed like my bodybuilder grandpa after he said it.

  More Geekers gathered around me, everybody cheering and whooping, and I pretty much just told everybody, “We won it! We won that big and bad!” Then everybody went crazy and did all kinds of flips off the dock and people were swimming and dunking each other and making out. Band geeks and cross-country runners, burners and gamers. Theater dorks. Chess club freaks. Everybody started hooking up and it was just like the best ever!

  Of course, this trip to the beach coincided with the end of the football dudes running wind sprints in the sand and also the beginning of the Spunk River Days festival. The music at the band shell doesn’t start until 6 p.m. on Fridays. The carnival rides don’t get going until about that time. But there are a lot of staff around and guess who’s on the Minnekota City Parks staff?

  Right.

  Seth Sellers. Jason Wexler was there too. They were sweaty and gross—I assume from running the football sprints. They must’ve just finished running, but they had their Minnekota Parks shirts on. I’m sure all parks workers go on overtime during Spunk River Days.

  I’ve thought a lot about this, sir. Seth did this to himself really. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. I wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  I’ve always liked Jason Wexler too. Until the last couple days anyway.

  While we were out there on the beach having a good time, Seth and Jason came roaring up in a little city golf cart. Seth let it roll to a stop and then jumped off the thing and ran up to me. Jason walked slowly behind. Seth was on fire, Mr. Rodriguez. “What did I tell you this morning, fat ass? What did I say?” he shouted, pointing in my face.

  I was a l
ittle stunned by his sudden presence, okay? I wasn’t exactly verbose. “What?” I said.

  “Just got a message about your water balloons. I told you to stay the hell away from Emily. Stay away. And what do you do?” Then he shoved me hard, knocked me backward, and I fell on my ass.

  “Don’t, you jerk,” Gore spat. She pushed him.

  “Better back off, Chandra,” Jason said.

  “Screw off,” Gore said.

  “Just get away from me, freak,” Seth said. “This isn’t about you.”

  “Yes, it is,” Gore said.

  Then Seth shoved her and she almost fell down.

  A gaggle of Geekers circled round.

  “Jesus, Seth,” Jason said. “She’s a girl.”

  “She’s a mutant,” Seth spat.

  “She is not,” Schae shouted. She stepped toward Seth. “You’re the mut—” Sir, Schae is small. He reared back and smacked Schae in the shoulders super hard, knocked her down, and that was it.

  Yeah. It.

  Austin Bates, Mike Timlin, Raj Weigel, Gore, Schae, they went nuts on him. Mike jumped him from behind. Austin and Raj punched him. Seth fell to the ground. Schae and Gore kicked him. Jason tried to stop it, but he seemed more scared than anything. He just kept saying, “Stop, guys. Stop!” I watched for a few seconds and then joined Jason, trying to stop it. Jason pulled Austin off. I pulled Mike and Raj off because they were hell-bent on killing Seth, it seemed like. I shouted, “Stop! Stop! He’s a waste of space! Stop!” Crap like that. Jason and I managed to move everyone away from Seth.

  Seth rolled over on the ground. His face was bloody. He pushed himself up fast.

  “Don’t you mess with the Geekers, yo. We’ll hand you your damn ass every time,” Austin said.

  Seth spit a big wad of blood. He nodded. “It’s on,” he said.

  “We’ll see,” Mike said.

  Then Seth turned and walked slowly back to his golf cart. Jason followed like five steps behind him.

  “We’d all better flee before the po-po arrives,” Austin said.

  Yeah, Mr. Rodriguez. That was definitely the Spunk River War going on right there.

  CHAPTER 23

  Gore and I took off for her house, which isn’t far from Wilson. She parked in the garage and put down the door. We sat in the dark in her car, just staring straight forward.

  “Did that really happen?” she asked.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “I’m shaking,” Gore said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  We didn’t say a word for a while longer, just breathed in the dark. Then Gore said, “I need something to drink.”

  A few minutes later, we sat in big wood Adirondack chairs by the lake, drinking lemonade. Again, sir, I said nothing. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what Gore was thinking. She stared into the water. You know, I don’t like Seth Sellers, but seeing him get the shit kicked out of him scared me. I didn’t like that at all.

  Twin Cities people on their wave runners buzzed by. Big, puffy clouds turned orange. Time must’ve passed, I guess, because soon we could hear some classic rock cover band blaring from the band shell at Spunk River Days.

  I tried to make a joke. “I think that must be Camille and the nonprotesting faction of the MLAHS pep band. I didn’t know she could play Steve Miller.”

  Gore’s lower lip quivered. She teared up. “I still want to kill Seth Sellers,” she said quietly. “I hate this.”

  “I know.”

  “I really am a murderer,” Gore said. “I want to kill Seth Sellers.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said.

  “I do. I hate him.”

  “It’s okay—He—It’s—”

  “No, I’ve spent the last two years learning how to stay away from you people.”

  “You people?”

  “People who call people bitches and sluts and jocks and…and psychos.”

  “I’m not one of—I’m not that person.”

  Gore shook her head. “I shouldn’t let you call me Gore. I shouldn’t let you be here. I should be alone.”

  “You want me to go?”

  “Yes. No,” Gore said. “Yes.”

  “I’ll go. Okay. I’m sorry.”

  I sat there for a second longer, but Gore didn’t say anything more. She stared at the water. I stood up. “Can I do anything?” I asked. “Can I call you Chandra?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Okay,” I said.

  So I left. I lumbered around the side of the house and out to the street and started the walk home. I was so heavy, sir. I like Gore.

  You know, I called cheerleaders “bitches” and jocks “jocks”. And I’d called Gore a psycho in the past and I called her Gore, which wasn’t meant to be nice. I’m a name-caller. I’m not sure what to make of it all yet.

  No, I didn’t go home. I only got a couple blocks away. I could hear the music echoing through the neighborhood.

  The classic rock cover band over at Spunk River Days started playing this song that went something like You’re my angel! Never want to be alone! You’re my angel and my home! Or something like that. It’s a really sad song. It’s about love and being at home and not lonely, except the dude singing is definitely without the girl he loves. I stopped out there on the street and listened and the sky got that evening purple like Gore’s eyes. And I was like, No. Don’t want to be alone. Screw it. No. I’m not going. You’re my angel! I turned around and ran back to Gore’s house, ran through the side yard, back out onto their giant patio. Gore saw me. She stood up. I ran to her. It got all TV movie, like the kinds I watched with Mom when I was a kid. “I’m not leaving you,” I said.

  She nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

  I put my hands around her waist, leaned up to her.

  We kissed. The seagulls flew and the sky got darker purple. The Spunk River noise faded out and it was just me and Gore kissing.

  “Really. Thank you for not leaving me,” she whispered.

  “I won’t leave you,” I said.

  Then the back door popped open. Then her dad came out to the deck! So did a bunch of other dudes!

  Seriously. Out of nowhere, out walked five middle-aged men in Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops.

  “Uh…hi?” I said.

  “Dad!” Gore called.

  “Chandra? Do you have a friend over? A boy? What’s going on?” Mr. Wettlinger smiled big.

  “This is Gabe.”

  “Yes, yes. Gabriel Johnson. I know you,” he smiled.

  “Hi. Hello, Mr. Wettlinger,” I said. I thought I might have a heart attack. I was about to kiss this man’s zombie daughter.

  Mr. Wettlinger carried two bottles of wine. The other guys were carrying food.

  “Would you two like to join us for some barbecue?” Mr. Wettlinger asked.

  Gore looked at me. Shrugged. She said, “We could use a little fun.”

  “Are you two okay?” asked Mr. Wettlinger.

  Gore shrugged again.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “I think we’d like to eat,” Gore said.

  “Burgers will be grilled!” he said.

  An hour later all the dudes were barbecuing and swimming and me and Gore were having a great time, forgetting everything bad. We ate a bunch of chicken and cheeseburgers. (I had one cheeseburger and a piece of chicken.) The dudes said really funny things, which I can’t repeat because they had potty mouths and I don’t want any of that to be recorded, sir.

  Then the dudes had that dance party I was telling you about during lunch. Man, did we dance. And Gore’s such a good dancer! She has the best high-speed stripper moves ever! When Kailey’s mom kicked Gore out of the dance school back in middle school, she made a huge mistake!

  Yeah, that had a lot to do with Gore’s dea
th threats back in the day. What a loss to the stripper team at school! Gore would’ve been a superstar if she’d been allowed to participate in that!

  I don’t think I’ve ever danced disco, sir. But I’m a natural.

  I did a lot of hip-bumping and finger-pointing. Gore kept spinning over and dipping me and then spinning away to do her stripper moves. I acted all unimpressed by her moves so I’d look cool dancing, but I was very, very impressed!

  Oh. man, it was such a good time.

  Until—Cue the buzzkill music please.

  Your phone is buzzing again, Mr. Rodriguez.

  CHAPTER 24

  That was your wife? How is she? Do you like being married, Mr. Rodriguez?

  I do want to get married. Definitely. I want to have kids too so I can be really nice to them and raise them right. I’d like to have a family band or orchestra or something. Gore could be a dancer because she doesn’t play an instrument. Maybe I could teach her to play though.

  Oh, yeah. Sorry. We were disco dancing with Mr. Wettlinger’s pals.

  Dad showed up.

  I’d totally, 100 percent forgotten that he’d been in the shop that morning, that I’d stayed overnight at Gore’s the night before, that he’d told me to come straight home after work, and that I’d totally stuck that crap right in his big, sad nose. I was wearing Gore’s T-shirt still. I’d led a huge protest, been involved in a brawl, lost and found the woman I love, gotten involved in a dance-off on the lakeshore. I had forgotten Dad. Seemed like everything was going on at once.

  He just appeared. He didn’t ring the doorbell as far as I know. I looked over to my right at one point and there he was standing in Gore’s backyard, watching me like a screwed-up, giant ghost that had arrived out of thin air. His shirt was untucked and his hair was all messy. Gore’s dad saw him, and they shook hands and talked for a minute. Then Dad motioned for me to follow him. Gore stared at me, her mouth hanging open. I shrugged. Whispered “Bye.” I think I also whispered “I love you,” which is a little over the top, I guess. Then I followed Dad away.