Jesse Parks was slight and quiet, one of the smaller guys in the class. He kept to himself, mostly, though he got along with just about everyone. The weirdest thing about Jesse was that unlike almost every other kid in their grade, he did not seem to have anything to prove.
This was probably the reason Peter Hartman had recently singled him out. Peter was a hulking kid with cruel streak. He shook down the smaller kids for money, laughed that time he broke Michael Carr’s nose and the poor guy vomited, and did awful impressions of Nancy Paulson who wore thick glasses and spoke with a speech impediment. No one thought the impressions were funny but a few kids always laughed because they were afraid if they didn’t, they might be the next target.
The teachers pretended not to see when Peter slammed someone against the lockers, pretended not to hear when he used curse words in front of them. All except Mr. Caswell, who had never been afraid of Peter, but had been on administrative leave since he broke up that fight between Peter and Tyler Gallagher. Tyler was a 60-pound transfer student with a bad habit of raising his hand to correctly answer every question in class, and it hadn’t really been a fight, it’d been a punishment, like watching a WWE wrestler take down a table tennis player. But then, Peter accused Mr. Caswell of choking him and nearly breaking his shoulder, and now there was an investigation pending. The other teachers got the message. They told each other they felt sorry for Peter, that his dad was a bully too, but really they feared and hated the kid.
Dustin Small was hardly that and he figured his size was the reason Peter had never picked on him. Like everyone else, Dustin was scared of Peter, but unlike everyone else, he thought Peter’s tough guy thing was cool. Secretly, Dustin hoped that if he could get Peter to like him, then people might look at Dustin the way they looked at Peter — with fear and revulsion. That was respect. Everyone wanted that deep down, anyway, that was why they hated Peter — because they didn’t have what he had. The way Dustin saw things, Peter was pretty much the most impressive guy in school, and Dustin wanted in.
Peter’s latest campaign included stealing Jesse’s chair and hiding it in the boiler room where no one would look for it. Their school did not have a lot of money, so Jesse was stuck with one of the broken chairs from the maintenance shed. It rocked back and forth but Jesse used it and did not complain. Peter had almost dislocated Jesse’s shoulder wrenching off his backpack on the way to the bus at dismissal one day. He’d unzipped and dumped the backpack, taking Jesse’s walkman and leaving the rest of the contents rolling around on the dirty tiled floor. Every day Peter shoved Jesse around and demanded his lunch money, and now he was threatening to beat the shit out of him the next time he had to ask. This last time, he had grabbed Jesse by the collar and got in his face, growling “Comply!” before walking away laughing. Everyone at school was on edge. Peter was gigantic and muscular — there were credible rumors of steroid use — and Jesse showed no signs of backing down. Dustin saw his chance.
“I’ll talk to him,” he announced. “I’ll get this straightened out.”
The other kids exchanged skeptical glances — since when had Dustin been good at anything? — but at least someone was trying to do something about a precarious situation.
The next day at lunch, Dustin asked Jesse to walk with him into the tiny school courtyard. Fifteen years ago, their teachers would have smoked out here, but now it was just an empty little octagonal space where the kids could get a glimpse of sky, though most of them chose not to use it.
Dustin folded his arms and turned to Jesse.
“You’ve got to give him your money.”
“I don’t even bring lunch money most days. I usually pack my lunch.”
Dustin was exasperated. This kid was obviously stupid.
“Just bring any money. Go in your dad’s wallet. Just pay the guy.”
“Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but I’m not going to do what he wants.”
Dustin began to get mad.
“I don’t think you appreciate the situation at all. He is going to kick your ass. It’s not going to be pretty.”
“Okay, Dustin. I hear what you’re saying. I’m going to finish my lunch now.”
Dustin’s face turned red and he loomed over Jesse.
“Don’t patronize me. Are you disrespecting me? You think I’m stupid? You’re stupid! You don’t have the cards. You need to get smart and pay this guy his money.”
Jesse gritted his teeth and nodded thoughtfully.
“Thanks for your advice, Dustin. I gotta go to class.”
The bell was ringing. Dustin hesitated for a second, then took a step back allowing Jesse to pass. Dustin was exhilarated and panting. He had never felt so big in his life, but he also felt a little confused. Like — who had won? Surely he had, but he didn’t feel certain. He wiped his upper lip where some spit had landed. He hoped Peter would hear about the showdown. He would probably be really impressed.
In fact, Peter had seen it, from the empty hall adjacent to the glass-enclosed courtyard, where he’d been roaming while he skipped math. The whole thing made him laugh. That pathetic tool put on quite the show. What an idiot. Did this Dustin guy have a hard-on for Peter or what? Peter snorted. Maybe he’d let the loser collect lunch money for him. Could be useful. Or maybe he’d beat the crap out of him one day to make a point. Peter yawned. He’d decide later. He was already bored.
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I really enjoyed this. The way you have skillfully captured the dynamics of bullying, insecurity, and the complex human psychology behind power and respect is 🤯 It pushed me to reflect deeply on the nature of power, the vulnerability hidden beneath aggression, and the quiet strength found in dignity and self-respect. The unresolved tension, I think, mirrors real-life complexity, which left me with a lingering contemplation about the roles people choose or are forced into within a community.