Fred Aceves - The New David Espinoza

HOURS LATER, in the safety of home, I still havent shoved the whole Ricky incident outta my head. Enough worrying about it, I tell myself. Technically, Ricky punched me last school year. Now its officially summer: three worry-free months ahead of me. I get amped about that, about tonight especially, the fun that begins just as soon as I change into formal clothes.

I put on my black slacks and take in the bare torso in the mirror. A recent four-inch growth spurt has put me at six feet. Tall is good, but that upward stretch has enhanced my skinniness like when you pull apart taffy. Why couldnt I have grown the other way too?

I slip my arms through the sleeves of my white dress shirt, covering up my knobby shoulders. I button it from the top, hiding my bird chest and pokey ribs. My twig arms are also hiddenI love that about long sleeves.

I consider my reflection. My girlfriend, Karina, often wears black because she says it has a slimming effect, so I figured this shirt, the opposite color, would help me out some by giving me the illusion of bulk. Nope.

Thats right. I, David Espinoza, have a girlfriend. Me, the guy who, as of today, has experienced every known form of bullying known to man. Weve been going out for four months now.

The other miracle of this year is that Im going to my first real party. You know, the high school kindwith alcohol and fun, not cake and parents. Its a big deal, the end-of-the year party the whole school has been talking about.

Actually, its Karina who got invited, by her friend Emily in drama club, and Im tagging along with Karina, just like my best friend Miguel is tagging along with Karinas best friend. But still.

If only I can figure out how to knot this tie so its the right length.

Come on, I tell myself, the third times a charm.

Nope. Too short. I give it a fourth, more careful try. Really take my time.

The damn thing droops two inches past my belt.

I take a deep breath to keep my anger at bay. Most of the time, I catch it before it grabs hold of me.

Fifth try, here we go. I grit my teeth as I tighten the knot and slide it up to the collar: about three inches too short again. I could sell used cars like this, but its not okay for a party.

Stupid fucking tie, I say under my breath.

I pull it over my head and fling it across the room. It twists in the air and lands on my small bed.

What a stupid invention! A bit of fancy fabric to dangle around your neck, serving no purpose. And why have a dress code for a house party? I mean, who does that? Were not actors going to the Oscars.

And why am I even going? If I get harassed at school when adults are nearby, supposedly watching out, what might happen when its only kids around?

Right away Ricky pops into my head again. My blood simmers and I start pacing.

Ellis comes to mind, this brace-faced guy who flipped my food tray over last week. The ketchup on my face and shirt entertained the hell out of everybody who saw it, their laughter loud enough to draw the attention of half the lunchroom. When Mr. Trevors walked over to ask what happened I told him Id tripped.

I remember last month in history before the teacher showed up, when Julian hit me in the head with a marker from across the room. Bring it back to me, or Ill beat the shit outta you. I did, walking all those steps while every eyeball in the room followed me.

This is how it happens. A horrible thought or memory drifts into my head. Another attaches to it, pulling another one behind, and so on, until Im clenching my teeth and fists, pacing and wanting to kick some serious ass.

Thats where my thoughts end up every time.

I come to a stop and find myself facing the Nightchaser movie poster hanging on my door. Van Nelson, the star of the movie, has a fierce scowl on his face. Plus muscles to back it up. He uses them in the best fight scene of all time, at the end of the movie when he gets revenge on those guys who tried to frame him.

So when my thoughts land on Ricky again, the sucker-punching bully materializes right here in my room. Hes standing above me, cackling like the idiot he is.