AFTER MOM'S TRIUMPH WITH FRESH START, MY PARENTS could've moved on to the next town to work their magic, but Granddad enjoyed having us nearby, and my dad enjoyed his position teaching at Lambert College. Plus, I think they wanted to keep me in the district to prove Fresh Start was a success: "Look! Palm Valley has such a wondrous school system now, we want our own kid to attend. We would never dream of leaving!"
What my mom and Fresh Start failed to comprehend was that the teachers were only half the problem. The real reason everyone had been bombing tests and never participating in class was because they were terrified of upperclassmen. The bullying of freshmen and sophomores was a religion and a sport, with the combined zealotry of each.
If, as a fourteen-or fifteen-year-old, you're constantly calculating which route in the hallway is least likely to lead to disfigurement or dismemberment, or wondering who'll steal and destroy your homework assignment, piss in your lunch bag, "decorate" your locker, or follow you home for more secluded beatings, it's tough to give a crap about your grades.
So how do you stop bullying? By giving everyone a group to run with; a group to call home; a group to protect them. From the moment freshmen arrive now, they belong to something. A team. A program. An after-school extracurricular.
The second to last week of eighth grade, boosters from the high school show up in the parking lot to recruit prospects. Competition is fierce. Over the summer you can change your mind, but you have to have something else lined up, or someone to swap with who won't stab you in the back at the last second. The first, best, and only hope for survival is to claim an identity as quickly as possible before stepping on campus.
It doesn't really matter what you choose; it just matters that you choose, or else you'll be orphaned and labeled a nomad, ripe for exploitation and daily beatings, and no one-I mean, no one-can protect you.
Upperclassmen aren't supposed to interact with freshmen or sophomores unless they have permission from your group. Anyone who violates this rule is subject to lawless vengeance, appropriate to the size of the violation and the temperament of the group that's been provoked.
The library is no-man's-land, and by junior year the rules loosen up a little. Senior year, anyone in your class can interact unless the leader of a group's put out an injunction against you.
As head songbird, Sound of Music Maria could've banned me from her party, but I think she found it entertaining to watch me flounder and drown.
It was obvious who your group was. You moved in packs, between classes, before school, after school, on the weekends. Without a group, you were a sitting duck.
Ryder Lennox was the most gifted athlete at Tumbleweed Junior High. He was a shoo-in for any sport, in high school and beyond. We became friends during sixth-grade Little League, but we both chose soccer for our group freshman year of high school.
I was accepted to the team no problem, but Ryder got orphaned from sports after failing the drug test. With no one to protect him, he spent all his time fending off attacks from upperclassmen. One-on-one he might've been okay, but the fights were always lopsided. I tried to help him, but I was tied up in soccer every day. If I walked with him in the hall, bullies had to leave us alone or face the wrath of every cleat and beckham, but Ryder hated having a babysitter, hated relying on anyone.
My parents tried to intervene, too. They offered to let Ryder live with us for a while, but that just made the situation worse. Things got ugly with Ryder's mom. She felt really insulted, like we'd been saying she wasn't good enough to take care of Ryder, but it was his older brother, Griffin, we were worried about. He'd dropped out, and was urging Ryder to do the same. I wouldn't have blamed Ryder if he'd done just that.
I asked him once, "How could you do it? How could you mess up your whole high school life by taking drugs the first week of school, when you knew they'd have the test?" He just told me I didn't understand.
We drifted apart. Ryder barely showed up at school. When he did, he got jumped, and the longer he stayed away, the worse his return would be. He was hospitalized twice.
And then one day, spring of freshman year, the beatings stopped. I wanted to ask what had changed, but he wasn't exactly forthcoming, and I was so relieved he was okay that I didn't push it.
Sophomore year, I got a girlfriend-Bridget-and by then Ryder and I barely saw each other. Junior year, I got a second girlfriend-Ellie-and we hung out even less. Then last August he asked me if I wanted to make some easy cash.
I should've said no.
I should've done a lot of things.