CHAPTER 1: THE PUMPKIN AND THE PRINCIPAL
This year was a really good year—until the last day of school. I ended up in a place I NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN: THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE! Yes, that’s right. Me, Mr. Warrior Kid with my Warrior Code got sent to the principal’s office! What for, you wonder?
Let me tell you in one word: NATHAN. That’s right. I got sent to the principal’s office because of Nathan James—a guy with two first names!
Here is the thing with Nathan: He is SUPER ANNOYING. He’s always moving. Tapping. Snapping. Shifting. Bouncing his leg. Standing up. Sitting down. He just never stops moving. It is SO ANNOYING.
He is also always making comments and saying things to me and the other kids. Not exactly nice things, either. He calls us names. Mean names. He calls Kenny Williamson “Blockhead.” He calls Patricia Johnson “Needle Nose.” And he calls me “Plate Face.” I don’t know why. I don’t think I look like a plate!
Okay, maybe my face is a little round, but that doesn’t make it okay to call me Plate Face.
And the thing about Nathan is that he says it kind of jokingly but at the same time kind of seriously. So if we told on him, we would seem like tattletales.
Today, we were helping clean the classroom. Some kids were taking down pictures, some kids were clearing out desks, some kids were counting and stacking books. I got put in the group with Nathan, cleaning the art area.
He started in on me right away. “Let’s get this cleaned up, Plate Face.”
“Don’t call me that,” I told him.
“Don’t call you what, Plate Face?”
“Plate Face.”
“I know you’re Plate Face,” he said.
I started to raise my voice. “Don’t call me that!” I felt my face turning red because I was SO ANNOYED.
“Well, what do you want me to call you?” he said.
“Call me by my name,” I answered. I looked at Nathan, and he looked a little scared.
“Okay, fine,” he said. I think he realized that he had pushed too far and knew what might happen.
Then he whispered, “Plate Face,” and smiled.
I felt my hands clench together. I bit down hard, squeezed my jaw, and started to breathe hard. The more I stood there and thought about it, the madder I got. When Nathan saw that I was getting mad, his smile grew even more. I could feel my face turning redder and redder by the second. Then Nathan chuckled a little bit. He was laughing at my anger! I got so mad that I wanted to explode or scream or throw something at him.
That’s when I noticed a bright-orange papier-mâché pumpkin that one of my classmates had made in art sitting right in front of me. It was about the size of a volleyball—and it looked perfect. Without thinking, I grabbed the pumpkin and threw it right at Nathan’s head really, really hard. He wasn’t expecting it at all, so it hit him square in the face. It hit him so hard that he tripped over a stuffed caterpillar and fell to the ground, knocking over an easel on his way down. It made a GIANT noise, and everyone looked over at us.
This is where it got REALLY BAD. The pumpkin ricocheted off Nathan’s head and made a straight shot at our teacher, Ms. Carpenter. Right as she looked to see what the big noise was, it hit her: POW!! RIGHT IN THE FACE! Luckily, it was only papier-mâché, so it didn’t hurt her in any way. But it did make her stumble back into her desk and spill her coffee. I had never seen Ms. Carpenter get mad before. And I hope I never see it again. She turned bright red and looked like she was ready to KILL ME!
But instead, her voice got really, really quiet, like a low growl from a crazed animal, and she grumbled, “GET. TO. THE. PRINCIPAL’S. OFFICE. NOW.”
I quickly made my way to Principal Forrest’s office, and as I did, tears started to roll down my face. I couldn’t believe it! It was my last day of school and I was getting sent to the principal’s office!
Once I got to the principal’s office, his secretary told me to sit down outside his office. I guess I had cried enough, because I started to calm down. Ms. Carpenter walked in a minute later, went straight into Principal Forrest’s office without even looking at me, and shut the door behind her.
A few minutes later, she walked out and stopped in front of me. She didn’t look that mad anymore. After a few seconds, she said, “I’m disappointed, Marc. Very disappointed.”
I started to say something back to her. “But … I … it was…” But she walked away.
Then Principal Forrest called out, “Come on into my office, Marc.”
I walked into his office with my head hung low.
“Well?” he said.
“I’m sorry. I just … I got … it was … it was Nathan. He keeps calling me Plate Face. And he has been calling me that the whole year. And today he just kept saying it over and over and over again, even when I asked him not to!”
“And you think that gives you the right to try to hurt him? And to hurt Ms. Carpenter?”
“No, but—”
“Exactly, Marc. NO BUTS. I’m sending you home from school. I’m calling your parents at home to come pick you up.”
My heart sank. I couldn’t believe this. My mom and dad were going to ground me for the rest of my natural life! Then I realized I might be okay. My dad had gone overseas for his job building a factory; he’d left two weeks ago. He would be gone for the whole summer. Also, my mom had recently started a new job.… Well, not a totally new job, but a new job at the same place. She got promoted and is now in charge of a bunch of stuff, so she is working a ton now. Most of the time she doesn’t get home until well after dinner. Sometimes she even gets home after I’m asleep. So there was no way she would be home today—which was good—because that meant she wouldn’t be there to answer this call, and by the time she did get home, school would be over. I was saved!
Principal Forrest’s secretary brought in a piece of paper with my home phone number on it. He dialed the number. I knew no one would answer, but I sat patiently. Then, all of a sudden, Principal Forrest spoke. “Hello, I’m looking for Marc’s mom or dad?” There was a pause as he listened. “Oh, that’s fine. Are either his mom or dad home?”
Who could he be talking to? I thought to myself.
“Oh. Okay. Well, let me tell you the situation: Marc had an outburst in school today. He ended up throwing an object at another student, and it hit both the student and his teacher. I’m sending him home from school so he can think about his behavior. Can you come pick him up?”
I still had no idea who he was talking to.
“Okay. Great. We’ll see you in a few minutes. Thank you.”
The principal hung up the phone, then looked at me.
“You’re going home. Your uncle is coming to pick you up.”
I remembered instantly: Uncle Jake had arrived today while I was at school! My mom had invited him to stay with us over the summer and help keep track of me since my dad was gone and she was so busy at work. She had left a key under the mat by the door, and Uncle Jake was at my house, and now he was coming to get me! And he was going to know EVERYTHING.
I started to cry. And it wasn’t just because of Nathan or being sent to the principal’s office or being sent home from school or even having Uncle Jake know how much trouble I had caused. There were a bunch of other things that were going to make this the worst summer ever. And it was just starting.
Copyright © 2018 by Jocko Willink
