Bring Down the Stars

“He totally did not know that,” Jason said, watching me.

A couple of guys snickered.

Fuck everything, everywhere.

I’d forgotten that when I entered the contest, one of the stipulations was Sinclair could publish the winning essay wherever they wanted. When I submitted the damn thing, I didn’t think I had a prayer of winning. It hadn’t mattered.

Now it mattered.

“So your dad took off and left the sock behind?” the redhead said. “Sucks to be you.”

“That does suck, Sock Boy,” Jason said, plucking a green bean off my tray and chewing it. “You must feel like shit.”

“Sock Boy,” the redhead snickered. “Good one, Jason.”

“Really? Sock Boy?” I said. “That’s the best you can do?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said stiffly, tilting his chin up. “Maybe you’re not worth more than Sock Boy.”

Redhead picked at a zit on his chin. “You think you could do better?”

“I can think of a crap-ton better insults, just off the top of my head.”

“Prove it.”

“Sure. No problem.”

I cracked my knuckles, thinking fast. But the insults came easy; I’d twisted that knife in my own guts a thousand times since Dad left.

“What about…Your dad abandoned your family and all you got was a lousy sock?”

Snickers.

Jason crossed his arms. “Lame.”

I shrugged casually, while my mind revved like a racecar at the starting line. “Mmmkay. You’re lucky; on Take Your Son to Work Day, you get to stay home.”

The redhead kid snorted a laugh, earning a glare from Jason. I kept going, and my audience warmed to me quick. With each insult I hurled at myself, the other guys got more and more into it, covering their mouths, laughing and oohing, like a rap battle, where I was the attacker and victim, both.

“I hate to say you have a deadbeat dad, but if the sock fits…?”

“If you need a man-to-man talk, does your mom take out an ad on Craigslist?”

“Are you a Jehovah’s Witness now? They don’t celebrate Father’s Day either.”

The guys were in an uproar now, but Jason’s jaw clenched. I leaned over the table.

“Knock knock,” I said, glaring at him.

“Fuck off.”

“Knock knock.”

He sniffed, not meeting my eyes. “This is stupid.”

I cocked my head to the rest of the table. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” they answered in unison.