Free Stoner & Spaz by Ron Koertge Page A

“What’s goin’ on here?”
    “Leave Ben alone. He just asked me to show him around. And why not, huh? You were busy with Ms. Wonderbra.”
    “Hey, she was buying a ton of product for a kegger.”
    “You took her out for lunch.”
    Ed tucks his hands under both biceps so they look big enough to write an essay on. “To seal the deal is all. Relax.” He leans and whispers something.
    Colleen shakes her head. “No, I’m dancing. With Ben.”
    “Bring him along.” Ed glances down at me. “You want to party with us? This is very good stuff. If you like it, you know where to get more.”
    “I mean it, Ed. Leave him alone.”
    “Let him decide for himself. Hey Ben, you want to party or not?”
    Colleen won’t look right at me anymore. “Don’t let him talk you into anything, Ben.”
    I watch Ed put one arm around her. I watch her pretend to struggle, then lean into him. I say, “You came with me.”
    She kisses Ed. On the lips. “Give me a second here, baby.” But she’s talking to him. Of course.
    When she looms over me, I feel like I’m about to be taken to the principal.
    “Look, Ben, this was a field trip, okay? What did you think — that I was gonna be your girlfriend? You’re a sweet kid, but you were just something to do until Ed showed up.”
    AS I PROWL THE HALLS the next morning, I catch people looking at me, checking out my bruises and cuts. Guys eye me; girls glance, whisper to each another, and glance again.
    Then I round a corner and there’s Colleen propped against the wall outside her homeroom. I stalk right up to her, and I mean it this time. Bad leg or no bad leg, I stalk.
    “Boy, that was really crappy.”
    She barely opens her eyes.
    “What happened to your face?”
    “Remember that guy who knocked me down? I found him and tried to knock him down. You can see how that turned out.”
    “How did you get home?”
    “I took a cab.”
    “I couldn’t believe it when you split. We would have dropped you off.”
    “You came with me.”
    “Ben, I drove! You came with me!”
    “You know what I mean. What you did was really crappy.”
    Colleen just fumbles for her sunglasses and puts them on. “Lookit, I wasn’t going to use last night, all right? Before I left for Marcie’s, I did what you said and left my stash at home.” She pulls up her Ramones T-shirt and wipes at her nose. “But I go to the bathroom at the club and this girl I know has got some coke. And then I run into this other chick who’s got some dolphins. You know when we were dancing and having a good time? I was high. That scene with Marcie made me nervous; I couldn’t wait to get high. Then Ed shows up with this shit and he’s not kidding: it’s the best I ever smoked.”
    I take off my book bag, something Ed would never carry, something none of the cool guys ever carry. “You don’t have to keep doing it, though.”
    Colleen digs in her purse for a Kleenex. “Remember when Marcie asked us what kids were passionate about? Well, I like drugs. I’m passionate about drugs.”
    I shake my head. “Not all the time. You could be like those Buddhist guys — you fall down, you get up.”
    “No, I like falling down too much.” She looks at the ground. She’s wearing shower clogs, thick blue ones. Her feet are long and white.
    “Colleen, listen —”
    “You listen. We’re history, okay?” She’s so loud people stop to stare.
    “I don’t want to be history.” I’m as loud as she is. “Anyway, you’re just hung-over. You’ll feel different tomorrow. You know you will.”
    “Yeah? Well, if I do, I’ll just smoke another joint. Make your little movie, Ben. Forget about me.”
    I watch her turn and walk away. Her pants are dirty. The tag on her precious Fresh Jive T-shirt sticks up. She’s wearing those stupid shoes. I bellow, “Fine. I will. And it’s not little, either!”
     
    ARTIE WEBSTER FOLLOWS ME into an empty classroom. I motion for him to sit behind the teacher’s desk, then plant myself in