The Fat Boy Chronicles

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Authors: Diane Lang
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for guys. Junebug (no offense, but I hope that’s a nickname) won’t mind it though. But if she’s anything like my sister, she’ll want to get all dressed up and be Cinderella at the ball. Or a cat. Why is it that all girls like to dress up like cats? I was a hobo for at least four years, and then my mom got the bright idea that it would be fun to make my costumes. I’m kinda bummed I’m not going out this year. I miss all the candy. Mom bought extra bags of candy corn so I won’t miss out too much. She also bought bags of Snickers, which are my favorites.
    Wednesday, 11–1
    Mom finished my costume in time, so I got to dress up for the party. Not many of the teenagers wore costumes, but I didn’t care because the little kids really thought I was the dad from
The Incredibles
. It was hilarious. Paul showed up and didn’t say much about the murder. He was almost his old self. He didn’t dress up, but he ran around acting like a werewolf. Everyone was cracking up about it. I noticed he had a big bruise on his face, but I pretended I didn’t see it. He probably fell off his bike or something. If he didn’t, it’s really none of my business anyway. He seemed happy enough though. Almost hyper. He told me later he had a girlfriend. That explained a lot. Like why he wasn’t so obsessed about the murder. He said somebody called social services about his mother. He asked if I had told anyone about her. I shrugged and said I didn’t say anything to anybody. Paul said things got worse for him afterwards. I didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant, because a bunch of little kids jumped all over us. Paul ran after them and tried to scare them. We were all laughing like crazy.
    The highlight of the party for me was the food. A parent committee brought in candy apples and brownies and stuff, plus we all brought bags of candy to share. I know I’m too fat already, but everyone would have thought I was nuts if I didn’t gorge myself with candy, like a normal kid. Once I started eating, it was like I couldn’t stop. When I got home, my stomach really hurt. My mom asked if I had a good time, and I said, “No, I ate too much.” She brought me something to settle my stomach, but it didn’t help. Guess that’swhat Halloween is all about for kids, getting sick on tons of candy and then feeling miserable afterwards. Same thing used to happen to me on campouts in the Cub Scouts. I would eat so many roasted marshmallows and s’mores, I’d always end up feeling like I wanted to puke. One time it went the other way, and I was so embarrassed I almost quit the Scouts.
    Friday, 11–3
    Please Don’t Read This Page
    Nate is a total jerk. I don’t know if you know him or not, but he is. I can usually ignore people like him, but he is nothing but a bully. That is all I am going to say about him. That makes me sound like Forrest Gump. I just hope you don’t have him in any of your classes, for your sake.
    I am writing this in gym. We didn’t have to dress out because there’s a game tonight and the coaches are getting all the stuff ready. The football players are showing off for the cheerleaders in our class while the rest of us are doing homework or playing around. No one is paying attention to us. We could be planning an escape from prison and the coaches wouldn’t notice. As long as we stay in our cage, everything is fine. I don’t really know very many people in here, and some of the guys say things about me, so no one talks to me much. This week can’t get over fast enough and neither can this class. Not yours but the one I am sitting in right now.
    Since Spencer doesn’t sit with Allen and me at lunch any more, Nate decided to resume his usual antics. He pulled the top of his pants down so his underwear and top of his crack showed, then he stuffed his book bag in his shirt and walked around the lunchroom.

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