THIS IS THE second installment of my novel.

In the first installment, you met the family and got a peek into the relationship between Francis and his mother.

FRIDAY

Friday and only six more hours of school for this week.

Breakfast is the best meal. I think it’s because I get to eat cereal. I just love this stuff. Mom lets us each have our own boxes every week. My current favorite is Rice Krinkles. I get the biggest soup bowl and fill ‘er up. One morning I put a very large mixing bowl on the counter and started to fill it with the Rice Krinkles. I wanted to get a rise out of Mom. She just gives me That Look and I empty some from the bowl into a soup bowl, the rest back into the box, and put the mixing bowl back in the cupboard.

Harry and Kathleen are already eating breakfast in the dining room. Harry is in his pajamas and robe. Harry never combs his hair in the morning before school and it sticks up in curls all over his head. He’s always brushing his hair away from his eyes. Kathleen is always dressed for school before breakfast. She sneaks putting on some of that pale lipstick sometimes. She even uses a napkin for breakfast.

“Hey, look,” says Harry, brushing his hair from his eyes. “you can get a free 45 record from the back of this Cap’n Crunch box.”

I look over at the box. “The Monkees? They’re just a bad copy of the Beatles,” I say between mouthfuls.

My brother shoots back, “Well, I don’t have to mow any lawns to get this.” He brushes his hair aside again.

Kathleen doesn’t say anything. But she does smile a little at Harry. “You need a barrette for that hair?”

Harry gives her a dirty look and digs further into his bowl of Cap’n Crunch.

“Here’s your toast, kids,” says Mom as she lays a plate in front of us. “Don’t forget to take your One-A-Day vitamins.”

I’m the first one finished. Like Kathleen, I’m dressed for school. I go into the den closet and switch the light on. I grab my jacket, flip the light off, and close the door. I pick up my book bag in the corner of the dining room, and head out the door.

“Francis, your lunch,” calls Mom to my back. “I swear you’d forget your head…And your hat. It’s cold out there.”

I stomp to the den closet, jerk the door open, and snatch my knit hat off the shelf.

“Bye,” says Mom.

Bang, says the front door.

Part way up the street, I pull my hat off and jam it in my jacket pocket.

From my inside jacket pocket, I pull out a folded flowered tie. I have it because when we played “Spin The Bottle” Anne had to give up an article of clothing to me. It even had some of her perfume on it when I got it that day. I gingerly unfold it. It’s black with bright day-glow flowers sprinkled all over. I stop and let my book bag fall to the sidewalk. I tie it in a Windsor knot making sure the wider end is longer than the narrower end. Then I zip up my jacket. It’s cool but not cool enough for a hat. What is cool is this tie. But what would be even cooler is a date with Anne.

By the time I walk to the entrance to the school, I’m so warm I have unzipped my jacket.

I fall in line and walk through the doorway. I follow the crowd through the lobby and down the corridor toward my homeroom.

Then I spot them. It’s Joe and he’s with his buddy, Mitch. They strut up the corridor in the opposite direction with their wiffle style haircuts and rolled-up T-shirt sleeves.

I see Joe hit Mitch on the shoulder and they both lock their eyes on me.

“Hey! Where’d you get the sissy tie, Four Eyes?” snarls Joe, loudly. At the same time he reaches out with his hand and makes a grab for the tie. He misses, no thanks to my efforts. “Flowers for the pansy.”

Everyone looks.

My cheeks are hot. The sweat beads and rolls down my back. I stare straight ahead. I want to roll up into a ball and tuck myself into a locker, any locker. Better yet, I want to be home.

He succeeds in grabbing my tie a second time. With one hand clutching the tie and the other flat on my chest, I’m rammed up against the locker.

“Your tie needs straightin’,” snarls Joe. He shoves the knot up against my throat. “There you go, Mary Jane,” he growls an inch from my face.

“Little faggy artist.” mutters Mitch right in my ear. They both leave and go back up the corridor, laughing.

I’m still sweaty and shaking. Everyone  goes by, purposely not looking at me. I loosen the tie. They’re acting as if nothing just happened.

Why me? What did I ever do to Joe? Or Mitch for that matter.

In a daze, I find my way to my homeroom. I flop into my seat and try to collect myself. Then Karen walks in. Karen sits right in front of me and I get to gaze at her long, long brown hair every day. It just cascades down to her hips. And what nice hips.

She glances at me as she slips her hips onto her seat.

“Hi, Francis,” she says, “nice tie.”

I smile weakly. “Thanks.”

“Where’d you get it?’

“I won it.”

“How?”

“Spin the Bottle….” I feel hot again. My cheeks are flush.

“Did you pick the tie over a kiss from Anne?”

Then, as if by some cue, in strolls Anne, all curly brown hair, bouncy breasts and long legs. She has on a black mini-skirt and a white top.

“Hi, Anne,” chirps Karen.

“Hi, Karen,” says Anne with a brief smile. Her eyes pass right over me. She crosses the room away from the door.

“ I see one of your boyfriends has one of your ties,” teases Karen.

Anne appears not to hear.

“Oh, she’s all caught up in studying for that big Eng….” Karen starts.

“Hey, whaddaya doin’ talkin’ to my girl?” Joe’s voice slices through the room.

I look over at the door, wide-eyed.

He strides in.

“Oh, take it easy, Joe,” says Karen, not even looking at him.

“Yeah?” he snarls, “ I’m keeping what’s mine mine.”

Karen looks in his direction, “ I was just talking to Francis.”

By now he is right up next to us.

He turns to me, “What, you didn’t get enough abuse earlier. You lookin’ for  some more?”

“No, I…I was…Karen was talking to me.”

“Jesus, Joe, will you leave the poor kid alone? I saw what you and Mitch did to him in the corridor earlier. I was just teasing him about his tie.”

“Yeah, a pretty little tie for a pretty little boy,” he says.

Karen rolls her eyes, “What’s with you? You fancy him?”

Joe’s eyes darken in an instant and he rivets his attention back on Karen. He grabs her upper left arm and hauls her out of her seat. She grabs her seat back with her free hand and pulls her left arm out of Joe’s grip. Joe’s breathing comes in snorts. His face is red. He pauses and breaks his stare from Karen and quickly looks over the room. Everyone is staring. He looks back at both of us. By now, Karen is seated. His breathing has slowed. Something makes him turn his face toward the door. There’s a bunch of kids filling the doorway.

“Too much attention….” he grunts.

All at once he straightens up, turns abruptly, and heads out of the room, pushing people aside as he goes. By the time he gets to the door, a hole has opened up.