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Then: Nine years old
“So whatcha want to do this weekend?” Shiloh asked me, walkin’ to our last class of the day. “Maybe we can go watch Cash’s band rehearse?”
Cash started a band about six months before with some kids from our school. They practiced in each other’s garages and were gettin’ really good. Cash was the lead singer and guitarist, which drove the girls at our elementary school wild. It was nice to see Jackson’s face anytime a ditzy cheerleader paid attention to Cash instead of him.
I made sure to rub it in his stupid, smug ego anytime I saw it going down in the hallways and believe me, it happened often. Jackson may have been the most popular boy at our school cuz he was starting quarterback for our city’s little league, but that didn’t change the fact girls liked Cash just as much.
“Oh, that’d be fu—” Out of nowhere, someone bumped into me from behind, sendin’ all my notebooks flyin’ out of my hands.
I didn’t have to wonder who it was. I already knew.
“Walk much, loser?” Jackson mocked, standin’ in front of us wearin’ his stupid football jersey. His jock friend Trigger Reed in his jersey too next to him, both with huge grins spread across their stupid faces.
Trigger was the star defensive end, and the second most important player on the little league team. Together, they were the dynamic duo, and cuz of them, we were undefeated.
Barf.
They were best friends, who thought they were gods. The whole football team did. It was actually really irritatin’, especially durin’ the games. They’d walk through the field, chantin’ and cheerin’ as the crowd went wild. All the cheerleaders tryin’ to get noticed as they strutted by.
Barf again.
It still blew my mind how girls swarmed to them like bees to honey.
In my eyes, they were all big fat douchebags with their brains in their biceps.
I didn’t hesitate, steppin’ toward him, but Shiloh grabbed my arm to hold me back.
“Hi, Principal Salisbury,” she said, surprisin’ me and savin’ my butt for at least the hundredth time.
This wasn’t over.
I was still pissed at Jackson for last night’s prank. I don’t know how or when he got in my room, but he put flour in my pillowcase at some point durin’ the day.
After I went to bed, fresh out of the shower, I laid my wet head down and white powder exploded everywhere. I spent the next hour tryin’ to get it out of my hair and sheets without my parents noticin’.
One of the things that changed between us in the last three years, we stopped tellin’ on each other, cuz it always backfired. No matter who started it, we’d both get in trouble and be grounded.
Though, those weren’t the only things that suddenly changed. Jackson’s family started to come around less and less. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen his parents at a Sunday barbeque. No one had any answers when I asked where they were. Sometimes my Uncle Noah and Aunt Skyler would bring the boys with them, but most of the time, they stopped comin’ too.
Ever since our mud fight, somethin’ shifted in Jackson’s behavior toward me.
He was meaner…
Crueler…
An all-out bully to the max.
If that was even possible.
It was like overnight his hatred for me quadrupled, changing from pickin’ on me to prankin’ me endlessly in the evilest of ways.
And I wasn’t just gonna stand back and take it.
Ever.
I always evened the score. No matter what, I paid him back.
Always.
