In Junior High I rode my bike almost everywhere
That day I had a flat tire, and I was walking it home
I felt especially satisfied about this flat tire because
It wasn’t caused by a nail or a piece of glass
It was caused by the ground after I landed an especially large jump
Over an especially large hole
I was good
So good on that bike
(my fake dad Archie later called me the best in California
To his entire real estate office
Which was not a reflection of his pride in me
But a chance to brag, and was also far from the truth)
I had made the jump, and immediately heard a hissssss of air
As it moved quickly out of the rubber tube
And that was why I was walking and not riding
My red bike as I saw the two attractive Cheerleaders
Strolling down the sidewalk toward me
Walking gave me enough time
To think that they might somehow know the origin of my flat tire
But not enough time to realize the folly of that same thought
So as I passed, filled with confidence
I smiled
I was good
So good on that bike
I was surprised to find that both Cheerleaders
Pulled back their full lips
And smiled back
Revealing dimples
And white teeth
And perfect skin
And hope
I felt a skip coming and held it back til I passed
At which point I looked over my shoulder to see
Red and white fabric
Hanging on perfect frames
Then
I saw them look at each other
Showing me their perfect profiles
And within a few steps
(Too close for them to think they’d be out of ear shot)
They began a cheer:
U. G….
U. G. L. Y!
You’re UGLY!
Yeah, YEAH…
You’re UGLY.
I don’t remember the rest of the cheer
But remember the way their beautiful backs looked
as they laughed at me and sung
And walked toward whatever beautiful cheerleaders walk toward.
I was 15
And
I was good
I was so fucking good
On that bike
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