There’s always that one kid in every class that feels the need to make things incredibly awkward. In my tenth grade English class, that was Jared Frost. He was the king of awkward, and had no problem screwing up somebody else’s day just for his own entertainment.
Now, I’m not a soft spoken person by any means, but I don’t talk during English. The answer should be obvious; because of Jared Frost. I hate the way he ridicules people during group discussions, and I can see they way other students glare at him when he’s pointed something out about them that’s embarrassing. I can almost feel their pain, and that is exactly why I didn’t want to be the next victim.
I’d heard from many sources that guys don’t pick on girls other than in a teasing manner. That wasn’t true for Jared Frost. It wasn’t always the things he came out and said, but mainly the things he implied.
“Hey Shauna!” He had called out one morning while the teacher was out photocopying a handout. “How’s it going? You know, at home?”
Shauna, a bright and brilliantly beautiful girl who I’d known since the first grade, was the last person you’d want to pick on. She was too nice, and sweet... she didn’t deserve Jared Frost’s mockery.
“How’s your daddy doing? Has he kicked the habit yet or does he still come home drunk every night?”
There were snickers some several of the more immature students-the ones that associated and played along with Jared Frost.
As for me, I ducked my head and pretended to be reading the novel we’d been studying. It was wrong, to watch Shauna be embarrassed in such a cruel fashion, but I wasn’t going to risk my own dignity by standing up for her.
I could tell by the silence that enveloped the class that nobody else felt the need to cut in either.
Jared Frost had prevailed once again. All I could do was pray that he wouldn’t pick on me. For the first few months of that semester, he didn’t even acknowledge my existence.
Then came winter, and that’s when I noticed that I was no longer invisible to Jared Frost. It started when I was walking down the hall, late for third period bio, when I ran into someone and I tumbled to the ground. My books scattered across the linoleum floor and I quickly got myself together before I made a spectacle of myself. I was picking up my belongings when I heard a snicker.
Jared Frost was standing no more than three metres away. He had his arms crossed, and was leaning casually against the wall. His hard black eyes bore into mine, and then he said, “Watch yourself, Chelsea. You don’t want to get hurt.”
If that wasn’t a hint that I was next on his list, then I didn’t know what was.
The following two weeks were brutal. Every morning I sat in my desk, and stared at Jared Frost. Every time that the teacher left to run an errand, I froze in my seat and waited in fear for what he would say to me. Once in a while, he turned in his seat to smile at me in a malicious manner. He once even said hi to me in the hallway. I would shutter to myself when I realized that whatever the dirt he had on me, it was sure to be traumatizing.
Finally, I could not take anymore of the suspense. One particularly chilly Friday morning, I waltz into class, slammed my books onto Jared Frost’s desk, and leaned forward so that our faces were a mere inch or two apart.
“You listen to me.” I said each syllable as pointedly as I could. “I don’t know why you’re such a bully, or what I did to deserve this torture you’ve put me through, but it needs to stop.”
I felt as though I was staring into the eyes of the devil himself. Jared Frost smirked, and said in a very frosty voice, “Come on now, Chelsea. Have I ever done anything to you? No. Don’t you worry you’re pretty little face... your secret is safe with me.”
My heart took a leap. “My secret? What secret?”
The smirk grew larger with every second that passed. “Chelsea- sweet, innocent, goody-goody Chelsea... I remember that day behind the second portable last year. I recall seeing you inhaling a little too much pot, if my memory serves. Oh, and then that kiss with Daniel Norman! I’m sure you never wanted anybody to know about that, right?”
Something exploded inside of me. I had no control of my thoughts, or word, or body in that moment. I pulled my hand back, brought it forward and slapped Jared Frost as hard as I could manage.
“Chelsea Nielsen!” A horrified voice exclaimed from behind me.
I pivoted around, and found myself face to face with my English teacher. She stared into my eyes, appalled.
“Miss. Lock! This is not what it looks like! He... He...” I couldn’t utter a single word after that. I was mortified.
“I cannot believe what I just saw! Principal’s office, Chelsea.”
“But-”
“Now.” She said through her teeth.
I heard Jared Frost snort from behind me. The rest of the class was silent.
During my walk of shame, I thought about Jared Frost and his stupid bullying. My hand still tingles from hitting him...If only I had said something a long time ago, I would not be on my way to a suspension. I would not be the one being punished.
I enter the principal’s office, and sit opposite the principle- a short man with a long nose and little patience.
“Well, well, Miss Nielsen.” He folded his hands onto the desk and sneered. “There’s always one in every class...”
