"New assholes, they think their shit doesn't stink." Rex said leading the gang out of the boy's room.
"How did you find out?" I asked Count.
"The word is out."
"I got myself into this, I'll get myself out."
"Don't play hero. You're messing with mean mothers."
"I can fight my battles."
"As I see it, that asshole Byrne didn't fight his own battle. By the way," Count asked before I walked in my front door. "Was there a zit-faced red head, about your size, maybe an inch or two taller with them?"
"Yeah. What about him?"
Count poked my chest. "You ain't fighting this one alone. I have a score to settle."
"Do tell."
"It's a Shannie thing."
The next morning on the way to school, Count said. "I gave our situation some thought. Be patient. You might have to take a couple for the team. Short of you getting your ass kicked, I'm gonna bide my time. Remember, I'm watching. I'm going to pound every one of those fuckers into the ground. Until I do, just keep your head on a swivel."
The next two weeks I had my share of problems with Byrne and his boys, but nothing too bad. Little things like sneaking up behind me and dumping my books, a smack across the back of my head, or an occasional body check into lockers. The scariest shit happened in the second floor Boy's room, I was taking a piss in the middle of three urinals when Byrne and Mike Manson walked in and stood at the urinals on each side of me. They didn't say a word. They didn't lay a hand on me. They laughed as I ran out.
"Hang in there," Count encouraged me.
One morning Count asked if I was willing to take a few demerits. "You're gonna miss homeroom." I followed him behind the Junior High. After the first period bell rang we slipped through the back door. "Bingo," Count said looking through the window. "Stay here. Just watch. Whatever happens don't show your face. When the shit hits the fan, get your ass to class." Ed Nugent knelt in front of his locker. No one else was in the hall. Count strolled through the door and down the hall. Nugent didn't look up. Without a word Count kicked Nugent's head. It flew into the open locker. His head was stuck. Nugent managed to get to his feet. He pushed against the lockers. He couldn't free his head. Panicking, Nugent pushed harder against the lockers. His cries grew to screams. High pitched wails danced up and down the halls. Count turned the corner before the first teacher appeared. I laughed all the way to first period.