Butch waited for Gerald to get close then stepped around the corner, “Gimme yer fuckin’ lunch money, Twink!”
“I don’t have any money, sir.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll smash you. Turn yer pockets out.”
Gerald set his things on the linoleum floor and did as he had been asked. All he had was a small pocket knife. Butch took it.
“How are you gonna eat without lunch money?” Butch asked. He poked Gerald in the belly and sneered, “Yer obviously not missin’ any meals.”
Gerald pointed at the paper bag stacked atop his books, “I brought my lunch.” He said and looked Butch in the eye.
“Wadda ya got? Gotta boloney sammich? Got some o’ them wavy tater chips? Maybe some chocolate chip cookies? I like chocolate chip cookies.”
“No sir, I don’t eat a lot of sandwiches. I have grilled chicken and roasted vegetables wrapped in a flour tortilla with a garlic aioli. I brought some of those new Goldfish crackers, and I have apple slices for dessert. I have a lot. I’d be happy to share with you.”
A puzzled look crossed Butch’s face, “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“No sir, I’m on my way to the Cafeteria now. Come with me.”
Butch thought for a few seconds before nodding his head, “OK, let’s go.”
Gerald picked up his stuff and they two boys continued down the hall towards the lunchroom. “May I have my pocket knife back sir?”
“Don’t push yer luck Twink.”
“Sorry, sir. Could you call me Gerald instead of Twink? My name is Gerald.”
Butch slapped him on the back, “Gerry, I ken call you Gerry, but I’m not gonna call anybody Gerald.” They got to the lunchroom and paused to look around.
“There’s an empty table over there in the corner,” intoned Gerald.
“I don’t like that one. Let’s go take that one over there,” Butch pointed towards a table by the window where three or four of the Student Council members were sitting.
“There’s no seats over there.”
“Come on Gerry, we’ll chase em off.” He grabbed Gerald’s jacket and pulled him along.