The Middle, a short story (Out of the Bassline prequel) Part 2

"It just takes some time

Little girl, you're in the middle of the ride

Everything, everything'll be just fine

Everything, everything'll be alright, alright."

---The Middle, Jimmy Eat World

“So me and Mike watched some porn together yesterday,” Dexter declared proudly at the lunch table the following afternoon.

Aidan, Chandler, Nick, and especially Mike turned to stare at him like he was from the planet Mars. He always ate lunch with those guys, despite their frequent requests for him to leave and “stop following them.” The sad reality was, they were the closest thing he had to friends — or an actual friend, in Mike’s case — and hanging out with guys who constantly belittled him was still better than hanging out alone. At least this way, it could appear from a distance that he wasn’t a complete social outcast, and other people's opinions were all that really mattered at the end of the day.

“What? It was these lesbians and they were, like, eating each other out and stuff. It was crazy.”

Mike stared daggers at Dexter, and he instantly knew he had made a mistake. The other three looked at each other for a brief moment before snorting into mocking laughter.

“Aw, widdle Casper saw his first titties and pussy, isn’t that cute,” Aidan said in a baby voice.

“Yeah, get used to seeing them on the ‘Hub, my guy,” Nick sneered. “That’s the only place you’re ever gonna see ‘em.”

Chandler pretended to cough. “Virgin,” he chortled out, and the laughter resumed.

“What, like you guys aren’t virgins too?” Dexter asked indignantly. “We’re all thirteen here. I don’t see you guys hanging out with girls all the time.”

“Well, at least we know how to talk to girls,” Nick said. “Unlike you in history class with Cassandra, shitting your pants, afraid to talk to her.”

“Doyyy,” Aidan slurred with his mouth hanging open to more hysterics.

“What a retard,” Chandler said. “Academically smart, but socially retarded.”

Dexter’s face turned red. He was starting to get rattled, and he didn’t really have a good comeback for them. Even though he’d never seen any of them talk to girls much, and they were probably all virgins too, at least they got a word or two in with the ladies on occasion. My socially retarded ass has no room to talk.

“I gotta hear from Mike, though,” Nick pointed out. “Is Casper full of shit, or did you really watch porn with him?”

“Sounds a little gay, man,” Chandler said disapprovingly.

“No!” Mike blurted out, his face also turning red. “Okay, like, technically yes. But it was Dexter’s idea. He’d never seen it before.”

“It was not my idea,” Dexter pushed back. “You asked me if I wanted to watch porn.” Mike gave Dexter another death stare, pleading with his eyes for Dexter to corroborate his story. 

“No, I never did that,” Mike claimed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” “Sounds like Casper’s makin’ shit up,” Aidan said. “Stop trying to drag Mike down with you.”

“Okay, you guys are both gay, but I think we agree Casper’s the loser here,” Nick said. “Throwing Mike under the bus just makes you look even more pathetic. No one likes you now, and that’s not going to change anything.”

“Retard,” Chandler said with another "cough." As the boys broke out for the umpteenth time in cackles, Mike gave Dexter a sympathetic, guilty look from across the table. 

A few seconds later, some unexpected visitors arrived, who were all too familiar to Dexter. Mason Ambrosio, Vinny Bosa, and Donny Damon sat down at the table without saying a word to the main group, set down their lunch trays, and started nibbling at their barely-edible cafeteria pizza. Dexter looked up from the sandwich Barbara had packed him, making eye contact with Mason, but neither said anything. The awkwardness level at the table continued to rise. What the fuck are they doing here? They don’t even talk to these guys. Meanwhile, Dexter’s “friends” were in the midst of another stimulating conversation.

“Do you think Rilee Strauss’s boobs are real?” Aidan wondered. “I mean, they’ve gotta be like, double Ds at least.”

“I mean, I’ve heard her parents are rich,” Chandler said. “It has to be surgery, right? It’s not physically possible for a girl our age to have that kind of melons.”

“No, I think she’s just very mature and developed for her age, and it’s great to see,” Nick said smugly. “Pancake!”

“Pancake” was the boys’ code word for “let’s stare at this girl’s ass.” Rilee Strauss walked by the table with her gaggle of friends, and the boys tried to be as subtle as possible in checking her out. Dexter joined in as they watched Rilee and the girls head outside for recess. He really only had eyes for Cassandra, if he was being honest, but he knew he would be called gay again if he didn’t join in the peep show.

“What the fuck are you looking at, Casper?” Mason suddenly sneered. “You think she’d touch you if her life depended on it?”

The other guys looked at him and grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” Nick laughed. “Forget Cassandra, man, you should go for Rilee. Casper’s gonna be slaying all the poon!”

Both groups of friends came together to laugh in Dexter’s face, and he was sick of it. Sick of never feeling good enough. Sick of never being quick enough with the comebacks or having enough ammo to come up with good ones. Sick of being insulted, mocked, and verbally abused every day by the people he had to spend the most time with. Why does everyone hate me? I’m a nice guy. How did this become cool? He’d never had these kinds of problems in elementary school. The rage had been slowly festering inside of him, and finally it had reached a boiling point.

“Fuck you, Narvaez!” Dexter cried. “How about you try not being a dick for once in your life?”

Nick didn’t take long to fire back.

“I’m not a dick, I’m just brutally honest,” he claimed. “And in my honest opinion, I think you should stop following us and leave this lunch table. You should be sitting with people who are more your speed. Like over there.”

He pointed at a sparsely populated table full of castoffs and misfits, where the nerdy or different kids — kids who weren’t afraid to not have friends — ate their lunch in virtual silence. To Dexter, lowering his status further by sitting there seemed like it would be the end of the world.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dexter sized up Nick with his tan, athletic body and wife-beater shirt, as handsome, smug, and quick-witted as ever. Trying to conjure an insult that would work against him here felt like trying to decipher quantum mechanics.

“Well … maybe you should go sit over there!”

Dexter pointed to the table next to them, the only one in the cafeteria lower in status than the castoffs and misfits table. That was because it was the table where Burton’s special-needs students sat with the adults who took care of them, struggling to eat their lunch amid uncontrollable screaming. Even the cruel, simplistic brains of middle-school boys knew that actually making fun of these kids was off limits, but Dexter had been desperate enough to go there. Everyone bristled in disbelief, and the lunch table was silent.

“HEY!” Mason’s cry pierced through the air like a knife to Dexter’s eardrums as he got up in Dexter’s face. Vinny and Donny recoiled in disbelief.

“You can’t say that about our special-needs kids! My mother works with those students! Take that back!”

“Yeah, take it back, Casper,” Chandler added.

Dexter looked around the table for a moment. 

“No,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not going to take it back. I said what I said. And you guys just called me a retard! Isn’t that worse?”

“He’s got a point,” Mike jumped in quickly. Dexter gave him a grateful look across the table.

Silence again.

“Oh, I know you didn’t just say the R word, Casper,” Mason said in a low voice. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to spread the word to end the word? Someone’s parents didn’t raise him right.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Byrd,” Nick chastised him. “Punching down at the few people lower than you. You know what it is? It’s pathetic. And so is you defending him, Lefebvre.”

“Totally agree, man,” Donny said, reaching over to give Nick a fist bump. 

“Pathetic, embarrassing, and rude,” Mason put in. “Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson. And if you don’t take back what you said, I’m going to have to be the one to do it.”

“I think a little trip to O’Shaughnessy’s office might be what he needs to set him straight,” Aidan said with a smirk.

Not knowing what to say or do, Dexter ignored the guys and went back to his sandwich, trying to become invisible so they'd forget to tell on him. Eventually, the buzz died down and things went back to “normal.” The group began a new conversation, about a video game he had never heard of. Thank God.

While everyone else ignored Dexter, however, Mason continued to stare daggers into his soul. Whenever he looked away, he always looked back up to find those piercing, beady brown eyes gazing at him from behind the glasses. The guys got up and made their way out into the front schoolyard for recess, and still Mason wouldn’t let it go. He, Vinny, and Donny followed the main group from a slight distance, just close enough for their presence to loom menacingly.

Burton didn’t have a full, elementary-school-style playground for recess, but it had a sizable front lawn with a basketball hoop, a small jungle gym, and plenty of blacktop and mulch for the kids to wander around on. They were too old for a full-on playground, but too young to be cooped up inside all day. The main group didn’t usually play any games. They just wandered around the outer perimeter of the playground, shooting the shit and taking jabs at each other, both playful and unplayful. Today, with the unexpected followers, there was a little more tension than usual. Even Aidan, Chandler, Nick, and Mike were starting to seem a bit uncomfortable, and Dexter was just praying for recess to be over as soon as possible.

“Hey man, why are you guys following us?” Mike suddenly turned around and barked. “Do we have a problem?”

Mason paused and smiled weaselishly.

“No, man,” he said, shaking his head. “No problem at all. As long as Casper here apologizes for belittling people with disabilities. You gonna do it, bud?”

He got up in Dexter’s face again, this time with a fist raised in the air. Dexter felt his heart leap to his throat. He had never been in an actual fight before, not even close.

“Just apologize, Byrd,” Aidan groaned. “Then he’ll leave you alone.”

“Yeah, you can’t make fun of the special-needs kids, man,” Chandler said.

“Oh, really?” Dexter challenged. “If that’s true, then why did you call me a retard earlier?”

Those were the last words to leave his mouth before Mason Ambrosio’s fist connected with it, leaving Dexter stumbling backward in a flurry of pain, blood, and humiliation. After a second of wooziness, things were back to normal, and Mason’s rodentlike mug was there waiting for him, taunting him, daring him to fight back. 

“Whatcha gonna do, Casper?” Mason said mockingly, beckoning Dexter toward him with both hands. “You want some of this?”

“Don’t do it, man,” Mike whispered in Dexter’s ear. “They have a zero-tolerance policy on fighting, you’ll get suspended. And you won’t get to go on the D.C. trip.”

Dexter thought about it. Burton’s illogical violence policy meant that even students defending themselves could get in an unreasonable amount of trouble. He hadn’t gotten to travel much in his young life, and the D.C. trip felt like a rite of passage, not to mention a chance to see some really interesting stuff. Was it worth risking the loss of that, as well as the structural integrity of his face? Now that he had gotten punched once, he felt like he could handle it again. It wasn’t as bad as he had thought. He was starting to feel fearless. He had nothing to lose.

“What are you two fags whispering about?” Mason snarled. “Stop fooling yourself, Casper. I know you’re too much of a pussy to hit me back.”

A visceral force took over Dexter’s mind and body. He’d had enough of this bullshit, and he wasn’t going to sit back and take it anymore. Using the height disadvantage to his advantage, he swung his right foot out and nailed Mason right where it hurt, right where no guy wanted to be hit. When the taller boy crumpled to his knees, Dexter wound up and smashed his right fist directly into Mason’s now shell-shocked face, knocking the glasses off his head and to the blacktop. The gangly prick wound up on his hands and knees, breathing heavily into the pavement, shaken up and defeated.

All the guys around Dexter looked at him incredulously, their mouths hanging open. Oddly, it looked like they were secretly excited for him, happy to see that creep Ambrosio go down. Who is this guy? he imagined they were thinking. I didn’t know he had that in him.

“You’re gonna pay for this, Byrd,” the beaten rat wheezed out as he struggled to his feet. “Big-time. I’m telling O’Shaughnessy exactly what happened, and you’re gonna get in trouble. Big trouble.”

“Dude, you just got your ass beat by Casper,” Vinny scoffed at his friend. “It’s no time to be talking shit and tattling. You need to get your ass to the nurse’s office, not no damn principal.”

As Vinny and Donny helped Mason back toward the end-of-recess single-file line, they glanced back at Dexter with a look he had never seen in their eyes before: a look of respect. Mike hung behind the other guys to talk to Dexter.

“Ay, way to go, tough guy!” Mike grunted under his breath as he went in for a bro handshake with Dexter, one that soon turned into a hug. “You laid his ass out, that was so sick! We good?”

Dexter smiled. They knew they had both made mistakes, but they also knew they were both willing to forgive each other.

“We good. And no more porn, ok?”

"No more porn."

“Mr. Byrd, we meet again,” Principal O’Shaughnessy said judgmentally as he once again sat at his desk across from Dexter, this time with Barbara nowhere to be found. Dexter thought Mason had been bluffing about telling on him, but alas, the jerk had actually gone squealing to the big man, determined to exact some kind of revenge. It had been a pretty jarring experience for Dexter to be called out of sixth-period Spanish class to the principal’s office.

“It is my understanding that you were involved in an altercation with another student this afternoon,” O’Shaughnessy continued. “The other boy gave me the details, but I would like to hear your side of the story as well. So please, enlighten me.” 

He folded his hands and sat back in his chair.

“Yes, so Mason Ambrosio — that was the guy from last time, by the way, Ambrosio — punched me in the face,” Dexter said. “So I … had to defend myself. I punched him back.”

“That does match up somewhat with the version of events I was given, but not completely,” O’Shaughnessy said. “There appears to be an omission here. Dexter, why did Mason punch you in the face?”

Dexter sighed.

“It’s a long story. My friend told me to go sit at this other table with these other kids, so I just said ‘go sit over there’ and pointed to the special needs kids’ table. I wasn’t trying to be mean, nothing against those kids at all. Just messing around.”

“Well, it sounds like you do have something against them, if you were ‘messing around’ by speaking about their table in such a derogatory manner,” O’Shaughnessy pointed out. “I mean, these students don’t have any control over their condition. It could happen to anyone. Imagine you walked outside right now and got hit by a car. You could end up just like them!”

“I … guess so.” Dexter had to choke back an incredulous laugh at the man's audacity. “I’m … sorry.”

“Apology accepted, but we cannot let this go without taking disciplinary action,” the stern principal said. “Physical violence and belittling the disabled are not behaviors that can continue. I’m going to call your mother to come pick you up, and then we can figure out the best course of action for you.”

He dialed Barbara Byrd’s cell phone number as Dexter sat helplessly in his chair.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Byrd, this is Principal Lionel O’Shaughnessy from Burton Middle School. I wanted to let you know that your son Dexter has been making fun of some of our disabled students, and he also punched a boy in the face. We’re going to be sending him home early today while we decide what action to take. So if you can please come to the school and pick him up.”

“WHAT?! Oh hell no, my Dexter would never do such things! There’s something weird going on there!”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to relax and come pick up your son, please. Or send someone to do it. We cannot possibly keep him here after such acts.”

Barbara sighed. “All right, fine. But he better not be in any serious trouble!”

Barbara was sympathetic to Dexter when he told her how the events had actually unfolded. Dexter got two weeks of in-school suspension, followed by a week of out-of-school suspension. His hopes of going to Washington, D.C. were officially dashed. Meanwhile, Mason Ambrosio received only a week of in-school suspension for the punch, to be served separately from Dexter so as to keep the two boys apart. Much to Dexter's chagrin, Mason would be joining Burton's eighth-grade class for the D.C. trip.

While serving his in-school suspension made Dexter feel even more like an outcast, it was almost oddly refreshing. He felt like a bad boy now, one who had done something impressive and stood up for himself. When he walked the halls of Burton, things felt a little different. More guys were nodding at him and giving him fist bumps in the hall, guys he never imagined could be bothered to do so. He still never really spoke to any girls, but even they almost seemed to be looking at him a little differently.

The actual time spent in all-day ALC (alternative learning center) was another story. Dexter was jammed in a tight, smelly room with a group of kids who he imagined had no future: losers, burnouts, and maybe even a few druggies. He recognized a few of them from the unpopular kids’ lunch table. Many were loud and obnoxious. They often rebelled against the ALC teacher, Ms. Wedge, a morbidly obese woman who did little about it but sit at her desk eating honey-roasted peanuts all day. Dexter didn’t want to be judgmental, but he got the feeling a lot of these kids weren’t exactly going places in life.

Each day, a different classmate would deliver Dexter his schoolwork. It was almost nice to focus on his studies while being surrounded by people he didn’t care about, getting away from the constant insult-slinging dick-swinging contests that were his classes with the guys. The schoolwork itself was a slog, especially his English class. They had just finished up the Holocaust unit after wrapping up the 9/11 unit in the fall, and now they were reading a middle-grade novel about a severely abused young boy who kept bouncing around between orphanages. Depression after depression after depression.

The Friday before the D.C. trip was Dexter’s final day of ALC before his out-of-school suspension, which would come the week of the trip. When he answered the knock on the door to get his workload for the day, he was surprised to see none other than Cassandra Norris, complete with the cheerleading outfit showing off her long tan legs. He panicked for a second, then collected himself.

“Hi, Dexter,” Cassandra said. At least she knows my name.

“Hello,” he said, trying to make his voice sound deep and sexy but failing pretty badly.

“Here’s your work for English today, we’re reading pages 251-300 of My Life as a Teenage Orphan and writing a quick reflection on what the Holocaust means to us. You can bring it to Mrs. Naughton at the end of the day.”

“Hey, thanks,” he said “smoothly.”

They looked at each other awkwardly, and Cassandra prepared to leave. He racked his brain desperately for something to say.

“You going to D.C.?”

“Yes, I am! I’m excited for it.” Her face turned serious. “I heard you’re not going.”

“Yeah, you know, I hit a guy,” Dexter said, waving his hand coolly to play it off. “It happens.”

“Ooh, sounds dangerous,” Cassandra said with a slight twinkle in her eye as his heart fluttered.

“Hey, enough chitchat over there,” barked Ms. Wedge between bites of peanuts. “Dexter, sit down and study!”

 “Bye, Dexter.” Cassandra waved cutely as she left.

 “Bye!”

 Getting yelled at by a teacher to stop talking had never felt sweeter.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The sound of the alarm, louder and more obnoxious than most of Burton’s students, meant it was time for the school’s monthly fire drill. Dexter and his fellow ALC inmates filed through the chaos of the crowded halls, eventually making their way out a side entrance and into a grassy field, with other classes of students off in the distance.

"Can I go home, Ms. Wedge?” asked De’Andre Jones, the biggest drama queen of all the ALC kids. “There’s only two hours left in the day, and Teen Pregnancy Extravaganza is on tonight. I’m gonna watch it with my boys.”

“No, De’Andre, you have to stay,” Ms. Wedge said sternly, looking like she absolutely hated her life. “And don’t be watching that silly program, it’ll ruin your brain.”

“Hey, don’t talk shit about Teen Pregnancy Extrava — “

“Watch your language!” Wedge clapped back. “That’s not appropriate for a school setting. I’m going to need you to be quiet for the rest of the day.”

“Hey, Ms. Wedge, can I get a peanut?” asked Jordan Rufus, De’Andre’s buddy and partner in crime. “The burgers for lunch were nasty, I’ve been starving all day.”

“No, you can get your own peanuts,” Wedge said. “There’s a vending machine in the cafeteria.”

“But you never let us go there. And it never works anyway.”

“That’s not my problem. Figure it out.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“It’s not my job to be nice.”

At first, Dexter put his head down and tried to be invisible amid the chaos, not wanting to be seen by the normal class groups that surrounded them. He was ashamed of being with the bad kids at first, but then realized it wasn’t so bad. It also wouldn’t make him look any better to be ashamed of who he was with. Hey, at least I’m in here for doing something cool.

Lost in the incessant prattle of the loud kids was a quiet girl Dexter had barely noticed before, but recognized from the outcasts’ lunch table. She was short and discreet, wearing a denim jacket, denim jeans, and beanie over her neck-length brown hair, a very different style from most girls at Burton. Underneath the jacket was something that caught Dexter’s eye: a Rise In Girl band T-shirt, featuring the faces of Trevor Green, Jake Bartoni, Dustin Rose, and Paulie Watson. Dexter had to say something.

“Hey, is that Rise in Girl?” 

No shit it’s Rise In Girl, you idiot, he immediately thought.

“Yes, it is.”

“They’re my favorite band of all time,” Dexter told her. “I’ve listened to all of their songs. Even sing most of them in the shower.”

“Hey, that’s freakin’ rad, dude! Gimme some.” 

She held out her fist for a bump, and Dexter pounded it.

“I’m Dexter, by the way.”

“I’m Kathryn.”

“What are you in for, Kathryn?”

“Some of my friends were smoking weed out back by the softball field,” she told him. “I told ‘em it was a bad idea. Cops came, and they all bailed on me. Left me to take the fall.”

“Whoa. Some friends.”

It blew Dexter’s mind that there were actually kids his age smoking weed. Marijuana, alcohol, and really all substances were like mythical entities at Burton. Everyone knew about them, and there was a mystique surrounding them, but no one had actually done them before. At least, that was what Dexter had thought. 

“Weed? Have you smoked that before?” Dexter wondered.

“A couple of times,” Kathryn said with a shrug. “It’s no big deal. I heard you’re in for punching a dude in the face?”

“Wow, word gets around quick,” Dexter laughed. “Yeah, I punched him in the face. I also kicked him in the balls.”

“Damn, you showed him what was up!” Kathryn said, making an emphatic peace sign like a rapper. “Hopefully he deserved it.”

“Oh, he did.”

“Hell yeah!” Kathryn said, and they looked at each other for a second. She now seemed to be much cuter than Dexter had originally thought. “So are you missing the D.C. trip?”

“Yeah, I’m out, sadly,” Dexter sighed. “They gave me an out-of-school suspension too. Other guy still gets to go.”

“Aw shit, that’s stupid,” Kathryn said. “Well, I’m suspended too. I’ll probably be hanging out around Tate Park, getting up to some shenanigans. Won’t have anyone to do it with.”

“What kind of shenanigans are we talking?”

“Explore the park, maybe shoot some hoops on the court, go cruise the mall.” Her eyes turned wild. “Maybe try to get my hands on a joint or two.”

“Very interesting,” Dexter said. “Well, have fun with that!”

Kathryn looked at him blankly, a little confused.

“CLASS!” Ms. Wedge’s voice cut through the air. “Everyone stop horsing around, we’re going back now.”

Dexter and Kathryn trudged awkwardly side-by-side with the rest of the group as they returned to the building, not knowing what else to say to each other. He wanted to make a move and ask to join her adventures for the next week. It sounded like an amazing time, possibly even the best time of his young life. The problem was, he didn’t know how it would work. He obviously couldn’t drive, and he didn’t live close enough to Tate Park to walk. There was no chance in hell his parents would drive him to go hang out with a girl while suspended, especially if they would have that much freedom, and he didn’t feel comfortable lying. Besides, he didn’t know if he was ready for the whole doing drugs thing yet anyway. 

Dexter’s thoughts were soon interrupted by the beefy arm of De’Andre Jones around his shoulder. He was pulled back from Kathryn, who continued walking with the group.

“Hey yo, Tyson, I see you spittin’ game over there,” De’Andre said, trying not very successfully to keep his voice down. “First Cassandra, now Kathryn. Man’s a playa!”

Dexter had never gotten this kind of attention unironically before. He didn’t know what to say. He had to admit “Tyson” was a slightly better nickname than “Casper.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said awkwardly with a chuckle.

“You gonna clap those cheeks?” Jordan wondered.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Dexter whispered, trying to sound cool while also wishing they would go away. The two of them hooted and hollered with laughter, prompting another scolding from Ms. Wedge. Maybe it hadn’t been completely unironic. Kathryn looked back at the boys with disapproval on her face.

As Dexter and Kathryn returned to their desks in the ALC prison, their eyes locked one more time. He shot her a little grin, and he was relieved to see one back from her.

We good?

We good.

The D.C. suspension week shenanigans may not have been in the cards, but maybe, just maybe, there would be another set of shenanigans in Dexter’s future.

THE END (for now)

Click here for Part 1