BATHROOM BLUES

So if I told you I went straight to my locker, got my lunch, took it to the boys’ bathroom, flushed my self-portrait down the toilet, and then ate my PB and J in one of the stalls, would you think I was a total loser?

Yeah, I thought so.

For me, bathrooms are kind of like bomb shelters. You can’t live there forever, but they sure do come in handy sometimes.

“So what happens now?” Leo said.

“You’re looking at it,” I told him. Maybe it wasn’t too late to transfer over to Meat Grinder Public Middle School.

“That’s it? You’re just going to give up?” he said. “You know what Jeanne Galletta would say, don’t you?”

I knew, I knew. She’d say, “Don’t give up—buck up.” It’s like her favorite expression. But that’s easy for her to say. Jeanne’s version of a bad day is an A-minus, or if the cafeteria runs out of chocolate milk.

Still, Jeanne is pretty smart.

For that matter, so is Leo. And I knew exactly what he was thinking right then. Operation: Get a Life was looking better and better, and more necessary, all the time.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I told him.

“Yes!”

“But that’s all,” I said. “I’m not making any—”

Just then the bathroom door opened, and someone came in.

I shut up quick and took my feet off the floor right away. I didn’t want anyone to think I was sitting in here, pouting my way through lunch. Actually, I didn’t want anyone to think I was sitting in here doing something else either.

One of the sinks came on next. I couldn’t see who was there, but he left the water running for a really long time. In fact, I was just starting to think I was going to be stuck here all the time until sixth period, when it finally went off again.

I breathed about half a sigh of relief—until whoever it was walked right over and went into the stall beside mine.

A second later, I heard a voice. Not next to me. Above me.

“Hey.”

I looked up, and it was the kid from drawing class. The one with the fake tattoo. He was standing there, I guess on the back of the other toilet, looking over the wall.

“What are you doing?” I said. “Get out of here!”

“They’ve got a name for that, you know,” he said.

“Huh? A name for what?”

“At the crit. You just got dinked,” the kid told me. “Don’t take it personally. It’s like a school sport around here. And Zeke McBonehead’s the captain of the team.”

Dinked… crit… it was like Planet Cathedral really did have its own secret language.

“Okay,” I said. “Well, um… thanks.” I didn’t know what to say. He was just standing there, looking at me. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” the kid said. He held up something that looked like a water balloon, except it wasn’t, exactly. It was a rubber glove from one of the art rooms, filled up and tied off at the end. I thought for sure I was about to get it in the face.

But I didn’t. Instead, the kid just smiled this evil kind of smile down at me.

Then he said, “You interested in a little revenge?”