It was a typical Monday morning. The dew clung to the grass in their picket-fenced yard like they did each day. The fog had lifted as usual later in the morning. Small droplets of rain came and went as the yellow bus bumped down the road. And the comments and slams aimed at the beautiful, brown-haired, long-legged, seventh grader continued full force.
“So tell me something, I was watching TV last night and there was this show about freakishly tall people – you know, like you.” This was said nonchalantly by Amber’s friend Nicole who had teamed up with her that day. “And every single one of those behemoths died like when they were 45 because their hearts and lungs couldn’t handle their girth….”
Sitting alone, Jordan was doing her best to ignore the two 8th grade bullies who had made her life at school miserable over first couple weeks. This truly had become normal behavior and all the other kids had learned to lay low, keep their heads down, or they risked becoming targets themselves!
“So what my dear friend’s trying to ask,” Amber chimed in, “is how do you feel about dying young? I mean – It’s inevitable you know – and we’re just curious about how you feel about it.”
Jordan was silent.
“Really Stems,” (that was her latest nickname) Nicole said, “we really care about you and we just want to know how much more time you have left with us.”
Jordan crossed her arms and twisted her body toward the window; wearing a skirt, this only highlighted the length of her legs unbeknownst to her. Willing the bus to arrive at school, she thought, Please, please, please! Please drive faster. Please let this be over.
Naturally progressing, her mind wandered further, Why can’t I go back in time to when kids were normal? Why do things have to be so complicated? Why did I have to grow up? AND SO MUCH?!?.
“Look on the bright side Noodles, at least if the bus gets in a wreck your legs will save you; they’ve got you wedged so tightly in that seat, you might as well be wearing a seatbelt!” There was a smattering of laughter in general seating area.
Still nothing in response from the girl now smushed in the corner.
“Noodles, noodles noodles!!” Come out and play with us!!! We’re bored. C’mon Stems!” The girls coaxed in stereo, now trying to tickle Jordan’s exposed leg with hair ties like she was some kind of caged animal.
Today Jordan didn’t explode in flustered rage as she had in previous incidents – nor did anyone come to her rescue (which never had happened). Amber, Nicole, and the other bullies simply got bored. After she hadn’t given them anything with which to respond, they weren’t brash enough to do something outright painful that would cause long-term physical pain. Eventually they became distracted by a side conversation.
Please God, somehow, someway – take the focus away from ME. PLEASE!!!, Jordan thought.