Peter Rising

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My whole world changes after the apology.

Suddenly, I'm the captain of the rejects. Well, not the captain, exactly. Nobody follows me or does what I say. It's not like I'm C-3PO playing god to the Ewoks on the Moon of Endor. I'm more like a hero. Or maybe just a cool guy you want to hang out with.

The stoners invite me to hang with them in the parking lot, but I decline because I don't smoke pot.

"That's cool, Peter. See you around, amigo," one of them says.

The theater kids want to know if I've ever thought about going out for the school play, and I tell them the truth. 

"Nope, never. I kind of have stage fright."

Nobody really believes that, not after what happened at the assembly. But it's true. I've never done anything like that in my life. Something, I don't know what, just came over me.

"Well," one of the theater geeks says, "if you ever change your mind, you'd make a great actor. Good timing, tons of confidence. I could see you as the male lead."

Even the exchange student from Kyrgyzstan gives me a high-five, although I'm pretty sure he has no idea why everyone is suddenly calling me "the man."

But that's the thing about being cool, I realize. It's not real. What happens is that for some reason or another the herd just votes. Well, they don't actually vote, like with ballots, they just sort of agree. Like one minute, you're such an outcast even the other outcasts won't have anything to do with you. Then something happens, and all of a sudden, everyone just agrees that you're the man.

Well, not everyone. The football team hates me more than ever. They glare at me in the halls and in class. But they don't say anything. And they don't come near me. The truth is, my nut-punch didn't frighten anyone. But what I said at the assembly put real fear into the football players at John Wayne High School. What I did was expose them. Kind of like the lesson in that Hans Christian Andersen story, The Emperor's New Clothes. Actually, maybe it's not like that story at all. Honestly, I read the SparkNotes for a test, and who knows with those things? But I'm pretty everyone just saw Nick Spears naked today, at least metaphorically. 

It's the same deal with the mean girls and all the other cool kids. Mocking me just isn't cool anymore. That doesn't mean they like me. In fact, they shoot me angry glares just like the football players. But as long as they leave me alone, who cares? Maybe I can even reactivate my social media accounts. 

I'm pretty confident when I walk into the cafeteria for lunch. And it doesn't even phase me at all that they're serving corn dogs. Everyone calls them "dicks on sticks," and yesterday that would've been yet another stupid opportunity to make fun of me. But that was yesterday. Today is a new day. I'm a different man. A bigger man. Well, bigger in the metaphorical sense.

So I grab my tray and go looking for a table. 

Today, I have my pick. The stoners wave me over, but they look like they're a little too into the corn dogs to be good dining companions. The theater kids offer to make room, but if they're anything like the theater kids back at my old school, they're going to spend the entire lunch period talking about musicals I've never seen. Even the kids at the exchange student table offer me a seat, but I know where I want to sit.

My eyes find Elroy and he waves for me to join. This is the smart kids table, where the math geeks and science nerds sit. I know these kids are smarter than me, but that's the point. I'm hoping that some of their smarts will rub off on me before my next date with Audrey. 

"Hey Peter," a girl with thick glasses says. "We saved you a seat."

The girl, who I think is named Brenda, slides to her right, and I sit down between her and Elroy.

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