School Enemy EN [rewriting]

12 years old

As usual, I get out of bed and it’s cold. I’m greeted by the cold of the house. And yet, it’s spring—it’s not supposed to be that cold—but it feels like minus five degrees. As usual, I leave my chaotic house, the one I dream of escaping, and head down the road to school.

I pass a few classmates hugging and kissing their parents. When I reach the gate, where a teacher checks that all the students are entering safely, I stand beside her—though at a certain distance, enough to keep my bubble, my privacy.

I wait, and wait, and wait some more. I’m used to arriving early so I can enjoy this moment of solitude. I watch the cars, the children walking past me, and the life of the city all around. But it also gives me time to wait for Blake, my best friend—and maybe my only one.

After a few minutes outside with my coat on and my backpack in hand, I hear children laughing and shouting. It’s rush hour: all the parents dropping off their kids at once. And with them, Blake, who, the moment he sees me, leaves the group of friends he was talking to and runs toward me to give me a big hug. I welcome him into my arms, happy to see him again. Then, surrounded by the loud chatter of other students talking about random things, we head to class.

As soon as the school doors open, he grabs my hand and pulls me into a chase up several flights of stairs. Our middle school, which also serves as an elementary school, isn’t very big. There are three buildings in total, connected in a U-shape. The two wings are the elementary and middle school buildings, and the middle section that connects them houses the administration and the cafeteria. As I wonder where we’re going, I recognize the doors leading to the administrative building and then to the elementary wing. In truth, the buildings are separated only by doors painted in different colors.

Blake keeps dragging me up the stairs, this time into the building across from the other. After our frantic run, we finally arrive at the disabled restroom on the second floor of the elementary building. Blake locks the door while I catch my breath and try to understand what’s going on.

— Wow, that was quite a chase—but what’s going on? Why are we in the elementary building?

One look at his mischievous eyes and I understand immediately—he has a new plan. Blake and I are well known to the administration, and not in a good way. We’ve gotten into plenty of trouble together just for fun. I recognize that look anywhere. Whenever one of us has that spark in their eyes, that idea of doing something wrong, we can’t resist the temptation. The teachers better watch out.

— Well, I might have an idea. A carnival is coming to town soon. I really want to go with you.

— My mom has a day off that week. But she said she won’t let me skip school to go. So… we’re going to sabotage the school.

I’m surprised. I know his mom—she works excessively. Most of the time Blake barely sees her; his dad takes care of him, and he’s a workaholic too. So it’s surprising she even has a day off that week. But honestly, I agree with Blake—we have to seize this chance. We live in a small, lost town somewhere in the middle of the United States. Nothing ever happens here. So a carnival coming to town is an opportunity we can’t miss.

— But wait—what exactly do you have in mind?

— Me? Well, I thought we could use your talents wisely.

— My talents? You know I have many.

— Well, you’re good at science, right?

I can’t help but laugh—our improvised acting is becoming too funny. Blake laughs too.

— For my plan, I thought you could mix some products to make the toilets explode. That way the whole school will shut down, and the newspapers will call it a toilet apocalypse.

I have to admit, the mischief and foolishness we’ve committed together have been remarkably ingenious. Sometimes I think if we used that energy to study, we’d be considered geniuses.

— I think if we can get into the janitors’ supply room, we can do whatever we want. But we need to cover our tracks. I’ll handle the chemicals—you get us gloves.

— Got it. We’ll be the kings of the toilet apocalypse.

We carry out the plan, clean everything carefully, and return to class. Blake tells the teacher we were at the nurse’s office. With his small frame and innocent face, teachers always believe him.

By Tuesday, Blake’s mom has her day off—and school is closed until next Friday. Our mixture worked perfectly. The pipes across the buildings corroded and burst. Some areas flooded; others clogged and overflowed into classrooms. Faucets sputtered wildly. Blake and I burst out laughing when we heard the news. The liquid had flushed away—no evidence left.

At the carnival, it’s bigger than I imagined. Huge rides like in big cities. We ride bumper cars and explore a house of mirrors. Watching Blake bump into glass panels while I laugh until I cry is my favorite moment.

On the way home, his mother looks at us in the rearview mirror.

— So tell me… these problems at your school. I suppose you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with them?

— Come on, Mom, we would never do that.

— You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?

— We didn’t do anything. We’re innocent.

— Very well. Because it’s strange that it happened on the very day I’m off work and there’s a carnival in town.

— Like I said, it’s just luck.

— Fine. I’ll drop it

When we arrive, she asks Blake to go inside so she can speak to me alone.

— You know why I asked to talk to you.

— Yes.

— I don’t want you seeing my son anymore. I think you understand why.

I stay silent.

— And if I refuse?

— You need to do this for him. Since that day… I just don’t want him involved in all that.

— Are you saying that for him—or for yourself?

— How dare you? I’m protecting him. You’re nothing to him. Just a classmate he has fun with sometimes. Because of you, he misbehaves and doesn’t work. This is my final warning. Get out of my car.

I step outside. The sky is blue, the air mild—but it feels freezing.

As she walks toward her house, one thought crosses my mind:

You’re the one who’ll become nothing to him if you keep this up.