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She told me to hurt her.

Jeannie was amazing.

I didn't go to the showers or change out of my gym clothes that day. I didn't even go to the rest of my classes. I went straight home and pretty much hid in my room. Then for the next week I was able to convince my mother I was sick and couldn't go to school. My faking sickness abruptly ended when mom took me to see Dr. Wolfson and he threatened to jab a giant needle full of penicillin into my ass. I had to tell my mom I'd been faking.

So there I was. Back in school just one short a week after the incident. Of course nearly everyone had heard what happened. People just stared at me wherever I went, even the teachers. Those that didn't just stare taunted me. It also seems that during the week I was gone I was assigned a new name, and that name was Dorky Dickdangler. Now I wasn't just another one of the dorks. I had officially become the class dork.

Being back at school with that sort of nickname really sucked, but there was some good news. I'd been permanently kicked out of gym class. They didn't fail me either. They marked me with the lowest passing grade so I wouldn't ever have to take gym again. That grade is a D-Minus if you are wondering.

That D-minus was fine with me. How could that ever hurt me? All I could see was the up side. This plan of theirs meant no more jocks, no more pretending to play dodgeball, and no more hiding behind the mats.

Even with never having to participate in gym again, I still desperately wanted to change schools. I wanted to finish my junior and senior year where no one knew me or what had happened. I would even have taken gym again if I could have started over with a clean slate.

Of course my parents would have none of that, so I stayed at Jefferson where everyone called me Dorky Dickdangler. Even the teachers called me Dorky. It was as if they thought it was my real name. And that fucking nickname didn't go away when I became a senior.

Midway through my senior year I ditched my glasses for contact lenses, I quit letting my mother cut my hair, and I finally seemed to be done with that odd late growth spurt. My clothes finally fit for once, and I wasn't clumsy and awkward anymore. I wasn't nearly as dorky as before, but I couldn't shake the nickname of Dorky Dickdangler or being called the class dork.

That entire senior year I'd see Jeannie walking down the hall and we would give each other a sly little smile, not a friendly nod or hello, just a smile. I hung out with my friends, and she... well of course she still ran the school. Everybody still loved Jeannie, and everyone seemed to hate me.

Then, at the very end of my senior year, the most unlikely of things happened. Jeannie and I were chosen to the prom king and queen. Of course Jeannie was the queen. That was a given. Her name might as well been the only one on the ballot. She won in a landslide.

So how on earth did I become the king? It was a lark, a joke, a prank. Whatever you want to call it, some smartass had added my name to the ballot. Well not my name exactly. The name on the ballot was of course, Dorky Dickdangler.

For two or three days, all I heard was my fellow students taking about the king and queen elections. I didn't know if the joke was supposed be on me, or if one Jeannie's friends was teasing her about having me as her king, but either way it was a huge joke. But in the end the smartass's plan backfired. I won by a single vote.

How ironic. Of all places, our Prom was held in the gym. The very place from which I had been permanently banned. But this time it was different. This time they had let me in. This time no drill sergeant coach or woman with the grip of steel was going to tell me what to do. This time, I was the king.

King or not, I still found myself wanting to hide during the prom. I wasn't afraid of tripping or getting smacked by a ball, but I was uncomfortable and felt I didn't belong there. Eventually I found myself hanging out in the corner over by the mats while everyone else had a good time.

When it came time to cr

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