It was recess at L. B. Clarke Middle School. I was in 5th grade and me and my friends were playing “Infectious,” a modified version of tag that we had come up with. Caster, the most athletic boy in 5th grade, began to throw pinecones at those who were playing the game, though it was against the rules. Despite the protests of me and other players, he continued, arrogantly. His “friends,” though they were more of a posse joined in. They began singling out Caiden, the new student whom I didn’t care much for.
“Hey, GAYden, how’s it going?” Caster called out at Caiden. His posse began joining in with similar distasteful insults. Although me and Caiden weren’t on good terms after an incident in gym class earlier that day, I began to resent my “friends*”
“Hey, GAYden, how’s it going?” Caster called out at Caiden. His posse began joining in with similar distasteful insults. Although me and Caiden weren’t on good terms after an incident in gym class earlier that day, I began to resent my “friends*”