Simon Kaplan - The World Fell On My Head

The World Fell
On My Head

Simon Kaplan

The World Fell On My Head

2016 by Simon Kaplan

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-63110-210-3
Epub ISBN: 978-1-63110-211-0
Mobi ISBN: 978-1-63110-212-7

All Rights Reserved Under
International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Printed in the United States of America by
Mira Digital Publishing
Chesterfield, Missouri 63005

Acknowledgments

This book is the result of years of wanting to write a novel for teens and being inspired by the likes of Judy Blume, Hilary Mckay, and Louis Sachar. I would like to thank them for their work and hope they would admire my direction.

The people who were the most helpful to me was the writers group known as Writers Under the Arch, a small collective in St. Louis. The individuals in this group critiqued me every week and taught me what it is to be a writer. There are about two dozen people in WUTA and I would like to thank them all, but I would also like to spotlight a few of them for being there almost every week, specifically: Jeff Howe, Sarah Weinman, Charles Haines, Joe Pfeffer, Alison Caldwell-Beers, Cindy Fehmel and Leah Givens. Sarah Weinman also served as my copy editor,

I wouldnt have been able to create this book and share my thoughts about theatre without working with some amazing students and campers over the years. Whether they were aware of this novel or not, these people all contributed something to its birth. They are Amy Kelleher (the real life inspiration for Amy), Megan McKiernan (who also read and critiqued my first draft), Kiana Jardin, Miguel Gamalinda, Kamaile Alnas Benson, Christopher Ber, Max Chervin, Julia Marostica, Sami Kuderna Reeves, Samantha Whitty, Marcus Guyton, Zoe Ison, Treasure Young, Olivia Eggers, Grace Creech, Haley Slamon, Hannah Michahelles, Ashley Swihart, Monica Lenk, Laura Gorrin, Nikita Tanelian, Khumo Maher, Darius Lack, Sophia Sinsheimer, Dani Gurfinkel, Julia Tello, Alyssa Gill, Lena Mayer, Laurel Schweidel, Bryant Tarpley, Marina Shethar as well as a cast of thousands I cant fit on this page.

I would also like to thank a group of Long Lake Campers ranging from 11 to 13 years old, who sat and listened to me read chapters from this book for over an hour and didnt want me to stop.

My mother, Nina Kaplan and her friends Linda Cohn and Zenobia Edwards who contributed their thoughts and experiences about therapy and how to talk to clients. Any mistakes regarding therapeutic advice, however, are mine and mine alone.

Id like to thank my father, Arnold Kaplan for his everlasting support of me and for giving me a place to live while I worked on this debut.

Most of all, Id like to thank Arthur Lieber, a great man, educator, and humanitarian, for helping fund the publication of this book. I cant thank him enough.

Chapter 1

My fist hit her beautiful face. Id never hit anyone before, so I didnt know my hand was going to hurt afterwards. The other disappointing thing was there was no whack sound like in the movies. She seemed surprised. The force of the punch knocked her off her feet. She fell down right in front of Ms. Prescotts room. A red mark bloomed by her eye.

Later I found myself in the principals office. I was being suspended.

I wasnt gonna tell him I didnt do it. I totally did, and I was damned proud of it, too. And I wasnt sorry. Was I wrong to let her get to me? Yes. Was it unladylike to hit her? Yes. Was it damn funny? Oh, yes.

What happened? Mr. Loring asked.

So I told him.

******

I didnt normally fight. Mostly Id walk down the halls and everyone ignored me. Of course, theres normal ignoring and purposely ignoring. I used to go over to different groups of girls and try to hang with them. They would turn away or say, Shut up, Jan. Were talking. Its like everybody decided one day there was something wrong with me and I wasnt worth speaking to.

The reason why was a girl named Stephanie. She was in my face so much I was convinced she wanted to pop my zits.

When we met she was so nice. It was the first day of middle school and we were both lost looking for our language arts class. When we finally found it, she asked if she could borrow a pencil. I lent her one of my new favorites my dad bought me: a sparkly, striped number 2.

Wow, cool, she said.

You can keep it, I said.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I got a couple of others like it.

Thanks. Let me know if I can lend you something sometime.

We began the school year by filling out those personal info cards teachers are so fond of. They asked questions like your name, birthday, and favorite books. As I worked on mine I let out this major sneeze and got spit all over my desk. Even though everybody was too busy to pay attention, I was so embarrassed. Stephanie handed me a tissue. Hey, that happens to me all the time. Here, its scented.

What a sweet girl, I thought. Maybe shell be my new friend. At lunch I was standing in the cafeteria looking for a place to sit. I saw Stephanie at a table full of very pretty girls; there was an empty chair next to her. I went toward it and was about to ask if I could sit with them when I heard her talking.

You should have seen this one girl this morning, she said. We were working on cards when all of sudden she did this. She picked up a pile of grapes and held them to her mouth. She made the ah ah noise and then threw her grapes on the table like they were snot out of her nose. It was sooo disgusting. Everyone laughed. Stephanie looked up and noticed me. Hey look its Sneezy herself. They laughed some more. Get lost, one of them said. Wed rather not have boogers on our lunch. More laughter. I walked away.

The rest of sixth grade everyone called me Sneezy. That pissed me off. Snow White was one of my favorite movies, but having the same name as one of the seven dwarves made me hate it. I ripped up my Disney poster because of her. My dad told me to ignore it until they used my real name. It eventually worked.

In seventh grade all the girls got their periods and their bodies started to develop; except mine. Some girls went from an A cup to a C within a few months. They were changing right in front of me. I was staying the same. Stephanies clothes always showed off her great figure.

OMG! Look at how flat you are, Stephanie said one day. Are you sure youre a girl? Maybe youre really a boy.

I spent my twelfth year on earth being called Boy. Even the kids who were supposedly nice called me Boy. I guess it didnt help that I started wearing overalls a lot of the time. One reason I wore them was because my old babysitter Myra kept a stock of classic ones at the collectibles store she ran. The other reason I told no one was I felt they hid my lack offeatures.

Definitely the worst year at school had been this one. I used to be able to avoid Stephanie, but she made a point of finding me every day. If she wasnt talking about my clothes, (Old Macdonald had a farm) it was my looks (Ugly), or how I might be a tranny (Hey Boy!). I was her personal shooting range, only the gun was her mouth.

Then finally she went too far. I was at my locker getting a book when she came up to me and shook a can full of change behind my back. Im taking up a collection, she informed me.

What for?

To buy you a new wardrobe. Im sick of looking at you.

Piss off, I said under my breath. I closed my locker and headed for math.

Whats wrong with your mom, anyway? she called.

Nothing in the world ever caught my attention like that sentence.

I turned. What did you say?

Your mom. She has no taste. Where does she buy your clothes? Goodwill?