“Hey, Zach!” “How’s it going, man?” I jumped down to the tarmac of the school’s driveway. It was a beautiful September day. This was my time—eighth grade, captain of the football and soccer teams, Big Man on Campus. After two years of looking up to other people, I’d finally made it to the point where there was nobody to look up to but me. Everything was perfect. I frowned. Well, not quite perfect. I noticed that the sign on the front lawn read: WELCOME TO CLAVERAGE MIDDLE SCHOOL They’d fixed it again. Unacceptable. I did a quick scan to confirm there were no teachers looking on. Mr. Sorenson’s eyes were on the buses, so his back was turned. I reached up and snatched off a letter. The sign now read: WELCOME TO CLAVERAGE MIDDLE SCHOOL Much better. I stuffed the L behind the bushes and walked on, enjoying the admiration of some seventh grade girls. It was a dangerous job, but somebody had to do it. At C Average Middle School, the buck stopped with me. Not that I was nobody last year.
