XXIII

BACK TO SCHOOL

Time heals all wounds.

There. I said it.

I could have done a whole tap-dance extravaganza about the passage of time, the changing of the seasons, how the world keeps spinning and nothing stays the same. Hi-ho. I could have pointed out a dozen senior-class milestones that came and went while I recovered—midterms, SATs, senior pictures, my driving test, college applications—to show the passage of time. I could have charted my physical progress, shown when each cast came off, each bone mended, each bruise healed. You could have looked at the before and after pictures—witnessed my transformation from the throbbing gob of rotting meat that arrived at the emergency room to the luminous Julianne Moore-like beauty in front of you—that would have effectively done the trick.

But, no.

I did not do that. “Time heals all wounds” just about covers it. Not every sentence has to sparkle with originality. Some just have to get you from point A to point B.

In this case: Point B being the first day back to school. Almost a month later. It’s mid-October.

 

And yes, I’m going back.

Back to my old boggy Gulag!

Hee-Haw High! Swampworth Academy!

 

I was promised things would be different, this time, though.

The principal laid down the law: If anything happened to me upon my return—any accident or threat of any kind—then I held the power to have that student suspended immediately.

The coach held a private meeting with the Manatees and told them not to screw this shit up. Personally, he didn’t care if they stuffed and mounted me on the locker-room wall—but just to wait until after the season was over. Otherwise, he would have no choice, and they’d be off the team.

 

The deciding factor in my return was Flip, though, who promised to be my bodyguard and personally escort me to and from every class, holding my hand if it would make me feel better. HELL, YEAH!

He would also make it very clear to everyone that I was off-limits. Flip was riding a personal crest of the winning season, and at this point he could tell everybody to jab flaming sticks into their eyes, and they would do it.