False Freedom

7. False Freedom

TAP
I lifted my head after hearing it for the second time. I looked to my side only to see Bobby sleeping through detention, just as I had. Our proctor, my cranky Chem teacher, sat at the desk at the front of the room reading the newspaper. I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that detention was almost over.
Just as I was going to wake Bobby, there was another tap. That one woke Bobby.
“What the hell...Sam what are you doing?”
“Nothing, that wasn’t me.” Bobby’s dazed expression evaporated once he faced the window.
“Holy shit! It’s Freddie!”
Mr. Harris glared at Bobby and shushed him. Bobby rolled his eyes and sat up, taking a quick glance back at Freddie. I lay my head back on the table, wanting to dissolve into it. Ten minutes. I just had to wait ten more minutes.
“Ten minutes until Freddie sets us free,” sighed Bobby.
Suddenly, I felt the way a man would before being hanged; except I couldn’t squeeze out any last words because I was pathetic.
After exactly ten minutes Mr. Harris sighed and stood up.
“Go home,” he said.
Mr. Harris didn’t seem like he wanted to go home, as he looked at his newspaper mournfully. And then I wondered if he volunteered to be the proctor that afternoon, because Mrs. Becker usually proctors everything. It was weird. Mrs. Becker was obligated to proctor. She was only an old, single, ethics teacher and had no other redeemable qualities. What was so weird was that Mr. Harris had a life. Mr. Harris was married with children. He was a Chem teacher, a Health teacher, and a Homeroom teacher. He had other things to do and places to be. So why the hell was he proctoring a detention on a Friday afternoon? A detention with Bobby and me, no less.
I realized then that this disgruntled man was the only thing that could keep me in that room, away from Freddie. I glanced at him helplessly. He stared back, puzzled.
“Well? Go on, get out.”
I sighed, just as he had. Bobby rolled his eyes again.
“Ungrateful kids,” grunted Mr. Harris. Then he left.
I almost ran after him. Almost.
Instead, Bobby ran to the window. Sure enough, Freddie Teresio was standing outside with three of his goons.
“You still up for pizza, Geiger?”
Bobby laughed and opened the window, letting in the cool fall air. “Come on Sam, let’s get out of here.”
I felt my throat go soar. I was afraid. “Bobby—”
He laughed and pointed at the clock that so cruelly determined my fate.
“Sammy, detention is over. Let’s go!”
Bobby grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the window. Before I knew it, he had straddled the window sill and leaped to his freedom.
“Come on Sam, we don’t have all day.”
I felt my legs turn to jell-o as I reluctantly reached for the window.
To me, detention actually sounded more appealing than hanging out with the group of asses the stood in front of me. But it didn’t matter what I thought. After all, I was only Sam Peterson.

As we walked towards the entrance of the school, I noticed Freddie jingling car keys between his fingers. My mind was still worrying over my potential death by Freddie, so I didn’t really think about what the jingling entailed until we reached a green Camry in the school parking lot.
Everyone waited behind while I kept walking. I didn’t realize what was going on until Bobby called my name.
“Sam! Where are you going?”
I was squeezed into a small car with five other guys who were blasting heavy metal music that really wasn’t all too appealing. Not to mention, they were screaming the words in my ears.
I wished that I had a video camera. I wished that one of these idiots would later on become a public figure. I smiled with the vivid image playing in my mind: the image of horror on President Freddie Teresio’s face when he discovered this video appearing all over the internet of the future. The whole world would know that he was an idiot. I was happy with my day dream until I was elbowed in the chest.
“Sorry man, didn’t mean to.”
Chris Geller, one of Bobby’s followers who joined us for lunch daily, was head banging to the noise that was playing on the radio. It’s called head banging. Why were his arms flailing around everywhere? He almost knocked the wind out of me.
“No problem,” I mumbled.
Chris Geller actually wasn’t such a bad guy. He wasn’t a bully. He was tolerable, and kind of a funny kid. Sure he was a huge prick with girls, but he was tight with his brethren. So I guess that meant he was somewhat trustworthy. If I wasn’t so awkward we probably could’ve hung out.
Next to Geller was Hank Ruth. I figured he had self-esteem problems because all he did was terrorize the freshmen as much as possible.
Matt Sanders sat in the front between Bobby and Freddie. He was sloppy and inconsistent when it came to his marauding. This didn’t surprise me though, since he was addicted to three known substances. I closed my eyes, wishing I had never left the institution.
We eventually ended up at some old pizza place with chipped paint and no heat. Teresio had walked us to the corner table with rusty chairs. I took the seat next to the window so that if I wanted to let my mind wander from stupid conversations, I could just count how many red cars drove past my window to keep me amused.
The followers really didn’t have much to talk about. It was just the typical stuff that teenage boys discussed. I could almost feel my IQ dropping.
“What about you, Geiger? Who was the best chick you’ve hooked up with?”
Bobby had the floor now. I counted off the twelfth car and turned to face him. I was curious to hear his answer. Teresio nudged him as he asked some waitress to get us a large cheese pizza.
Bobby didn’t answer the question right away. At first he just watched me, as if he was waiting for me to say something. Then he listed the girls he actually did hook up with. But after the pizza came and the fourteenth car sped by, I still had nothing to say and Bobby had no more time to stall.
“So, which one was the best?” Matt questioned, clearly irritated.
Bobby shifted uneasily and bit his lip ring, obviously not wanting to answer the question. This confused me. Why wouldn’t Bobby want to show off? Bobby loved to show off. I inched closer to the table and spoke for him as he began to stammer.
“It really depends on what you mean by ‘best’.” Bobby smiled in relief as the waitress came and slid the pan of pizza onto the table.
“The one that turns you on the most is usually my pick,” stated Hank, as if I was mentally insane.
“I disagree”. I had no idea where I was going with this, but it seemed to make them forget about Bobby for a while. They all froze and just stared at me degradingly, including Bobby. I must’ve said something wrong.
“I heard you were chatting it up with San Fran Dan. Did he give you any ideas, Peterson?” Freddie chuckled as he picked some cheese off of his slice of pizza.
Everyone laughed including Bobby, but only after looking at the ground for a while. I don’t know what came over me then. I just felt anger surge through my body. Freddie insulting Dan just felt like he was crossing some sort of line. I didn’t know why. It’s not like I was actually friends with “San Fran Dan”.
“You lied about him groping your ass, Teresio.”
It suddenly got very silent. Hank, Matt, and Chris looked anxiously at Freddie. Bobby looked at me, horrified. My eyes glared hard at Freddie’s. Freddie clenched hard at his pizza.
“You think I’m a fag, Sam?” he seethed between his teeth.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what I think, does it?”
I felt everyone’s eyes on me. The adrenaline that flooded my brain began to wear off and I suddenly wanted to run away. I stood up and was about to walk away when in one swift movement, Teresio had punched me square in the face. I fell back, hitting my back against the wall. Freddie stood over me as I pathetically held my bleeding nose. Bobby stood up and tried to pull him off me, but Freddie just pushed him to the side.
“Come on Freddie,” moaned Bobby. “He doesn’t mean it.”
Freddie ignored Bobby. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of my bloodstained shirt and brought my face up to his. He scowled and roared, “If I ever get a glimpse of your face again, it better be on a death certificate, or else I will kill you.” He then shoved me back to my pathetic position by the wall. “And stay away from my sister” he said, taking a few steps back.
The waitress just watched in shock from behind the counter with a hand up to her mouth. What else could she do? Come in between a rouge animal and his prey?
I held my free hand up in defeat. Freddie turned and signaled that it was time to leave. Matt, Hank, and Chris walked towards him but Bobby stood his ground.
“You coming, Geiger?” Freddie said as he opened the door.
Bobby shook his head. “I’ll help him up and pay for the pizzas. You guys go on without me.”
Freddie looked at me and then shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you at the dance.” And they left. Bobby gave his hand to me and lifted me up.
“You ok?”
I wiped the blood on my face, only making it smear, and ruffled my hair so that it wasn’t in my eyes.
“Does it look like I’m ok?” I muttered.
He sighed. “Come on, we’ll take a cab to your place.”