Story #47: Dave's Revenge (Or, Another Boring English Class Story)

Dave's Revenge (Or, Another Boring English Class Story)

     There once was a class of sophomores who lived long, long ago in a galaxy far, f-... Wait. Wrong story. Sorry 'bout that.
     Now, this is a story 'bout how one soph's life got flipped–turned upside down. And I'd like to take a minute–just sit right there–I'll tell you how he became the prince of a town called... Crud! Wrong story again.
     Maybe I should just have my friend Dave tell the story since he was the one who started it all...

    ~ Dave's Story... ~
     I was just 15. A sophomore. Pretty cool; I mean, I don't want to brag or nothin', but I was pretty popular. I just really hated school. And, it wasn't like the "I-hate-school-and-I-never-want-to-set-foot-in-that-building" type of hate. It was the "I-love-going-to-school-and-goofing-off-and-playing-video-games-on-my-$2,500-MacBookPro-all-day-and-seeing-my-friends-but-I-hate-any-teacher-who-makes-me-do-any-work-or-gives-homework" type of hate, if you know what I mean. So I really drove my teachers crazy because I never missed school. So they could never get a break from my constant whining and complaining.
     But one day that all came to a screeching halt. Our English teacher was finally fed up with us (because in this particular class there were, like, 10 of me and a whole bunch of girls who liked to chit chat up a storm) and she decided to block all our computers from playing games.
     "That's it! I'm done!" I yelled, slamming my screen down. What's the point of class if I can't play games? I wondered. Definitely not to read or write! Reading and writing are so stupid.
     "Fine," our teacher said calmly. "You can go sit in the office then."
     "Better than being here and having to read or write!" I said smugly. Ha! I'll show her!
     She laughed and said goodbye, handing me my books. I smiled, said farewell to my classmates and couldn't believe how easily I got out of class! That was awesome!
     "Here you go," one of the secretaries said, handing me a piece of paper with words on it when I got down to the office.
     "What's this?"
     "You get to write about what happened in class..."
     Crud! No wonder our teacher was smiling when I left. She knew all along I'd have to write an essay down here! Man, this isn't fair. School is supposed to be fun. Not like prison!
     During studyhall I found some of my classmates from English class and asked them if they wanted to join me in a little plan to get rid of our teacher.
     "What do you mean by 'get rid of,' Dave?" George asked. "Cuz...you're kind of sounding a little psycho."
     "I don't know...," I said, "like make it so we can still play games and not do anything. I don't want to read this stupid bird book she's been talking about."
     "But what if we do get rid of her and we get someone worse?" Ellie asked. "If I can't text or tweet in class, I am going to die. Like, literally die."
     George rolled his eyes at me and we laughed. Ellie had been saying she would *literally* die without her phone for literally five years. Which gave me an idea...
     "Hey! Let's sneak in her classroom and take her phone," I said. "Then, if she's anything like Mr. Sunshine, she'll spend all period looking for it and won't have time to block our computers!"
     "Well, genius," Ellie replied, "why don't we just take her computer? That's what she blocks our computers with." Yes, I thought, this is a much better plan. But I couldn't let Ellie know that.
     I shrugged. "Yeah, that might work, too."
    That night we drove to the back of the school building where George had left a rock in the door so we could slip in. We tiptoed through the kitchen and opened the door to the commons when bright lights practically blinded us.
     "And here are your 2013 Lady Blue Jay golfers!" Mr. Starelee announced and the crowd started clapping wildly. The girls were lined up right in front of us. The crowd of parents, teachers, and little bratty kids were staring right at us. Ellie turned to me, fuming.
     "It's the golf banquet, you doofus!"
     "Yeah. I kinda forgot about that."
     "But you're on the fricking GOLF team!"
      Crap! It really wasn't my day.
      I stared out into the Commons and all eyes were glued on us. And the lady golfers. But, mostly on us since we just ruined their introduction.
     Mr. Bowell, our athletic director (who happened to be standing next to Mr. Starelee), pinned me to the wall with his steely eyes.
     "And just what were you three doing in the kitchen?" he growled. He stood like a bulldog about to attack. His back was to the crowd, so my parents--who were probably sitting out there cursing me under their breath right now--could not see the fury in his eyes. And was that a bit of foam forming on his lip? It looked like it could be. I pondered for a moment that he could actually be foaming at the mouth until his scream interrupted my thoughts.
     "GET. OUT. OF HERE. NOW!"
     I let out a long, drawn-out yelp that sounded more like a terrified moan and started running for the senior hallway. Ellie ran the opposite way toward the locker rooms and George just turned around and waltzed right back through the kitchen to his car. He was waiting there, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest.
     "Get in! Hurry! Get out of here!" I screamed. I thought Mr. Bowell would be right on my tail.
     "As if he's seriously going to leave the banquet to chase us," George said with a smirk. "You're really stupid sometimes, you know it, Dave?"
     It was at that moment that it hit me. Ellie's bag, that is.
     "OUCH! Whadda ya have in there, a brick?" My head pounded from being struck.
     "No. Just my English textbook," she replied. "Maybe it'll knock some sense into you. We could get suspended! What were we thinking trying to steal a teacher's computer?"
     Maybe it was a stupid plan. Maybe English wasn't going to be so bad. Maybe I should give it a chance. Maybe...
     "Wait! What if we take all her magnets and put them all over her computer, and then..."
     "OH MY GOD, SHUT UP, Dave!"