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Fun and Games, And "Peachy-Keen" (standard:fantasy, 4150 words)
Author: G.H. HaddenAdded: May 12 2005Views/Reads: 2091/1591Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Craig is a sporty kid with a need to improve his grades. Shortly, he will befriend Dillon, a smart but strange introvert who’s eyes fill them all with a nameless fear. Can Craig overcome his apathy and prejudice—or is he a mere pawn in a greater play?

Fun and Games, And "Peachy-Keen" 

By G.H. Hadden 

His eyes were pink, Craig assured himself. They were pink the whole
time.  No one can change the color of his or her eyes—like...What?  
What creature can change its' eye color?  None, right?  Can they? 

From the first day of school Craig could see Dillon Marsden was
different, but it was not just the obvious things that everyone 
noticed—more than just the boy's ghost white albino skin, or those 
strange pink eyes that weren't quite demonic but nonetheless unsettling 
to have them gaze upon you with any kind of regard.  Nor was it exactly 
the boy's white-blonde hair, or even the fact that he seemed totally 
oblivious to any sense of fashion.  It was more as though he were 
completely clued out of their culture altogether.  While the other boys 
talked about who was hot on Canadian Idol, or what the hockey strike 
was likely to do to the Flames this year—he would quietly withdraw to a 
more uninhabited corner of the playground and watch the other "normal" 
kids climb on the monkey bars, play baseball on the diamond, or watch 
Craig and his friends play a pick-up game of street hockey on the 
private road that lead up to the school.  He was a quiet boy: never 
volunteering an answer, but always giving the right one when the 
teacher called upon him.  He was certainly the bright and studious 
type—the kind of boy that just might be able to keep Craig from 
repeating the sixth grade this year.  But although he seemed withdrawn 
and unsociable (and as some of the others thought, a bit snobbish), 
Craig still thought the new boy carried himself with a kind of quiet 
dignity despite being such an obvious outcast. 

Maybe that's why he came to the boy's rescue that day, and not just for
the simple selfish need for a tutor. 

It had been bothering him for a long time.  Sure at first it was all fun
and games when the freaky albino boy got nailed in the face playing 
dodgeball, and even when he saw Dave and Cass pushing him around and 
giving him a bit of a rough time on the playground, it seemed quite 
natural.  The kid practically begged for that kind of negative 
attention by being so different; while at the same time displaying a 
less than healthy interest in his classmates.  He had a few 
acquaintances that would collaborate with him on school projects, but 
it seemed like he only tolerated their company.  He got along with 
everyone well enough in the class setting, but once the bell rang; he 
went merrily on his way alone.  He seemed just fine with that too. 

Dave and Cass can be pretty abrasive when they want to be.  Dave's got
an older brother, so he thinks his balls are much bigger than everyone 
else's.  If Cravenshaw Elementary had a head bully—that is, someone to 
whom all the other subordinate wannabes reported; it would be him.  He 
was always poking his nose into places where it was neither welcome nor 
wanted, but he had the size and the brother to back him up.  For an 
eleven-year-old, five-foot-six is giant size in a world of 
four-foot-somethings.  Although no shrimp himself, Craig would be 
outclassed in a fight with him.  Cass, on the other hand, was one of 
those kids that kind of went along with the flow.  He was an average 
kid trying to fit in with the cool group of which Dave was the leader, 
and so he made every effort to make sure Dave's eyes focused on Dillon 
as the scapegoat—and not him. Worst of all, now the other followers 
were getting in on the act, and it was becoming a regular sight to see 
three, or maybe even four guys ragging on Dillon at lunch. 

When the teacher is around (of course), things are always so
"peachy-keen" with him. But they sit strategically next to him on 
purpose.  Craig sees them from across the room where he sits faithfully 
every noon hour with his best buds Jimmy and Nate.  Craig's friends 
never seem to notice the hijinks going in the back.  They're too busy 
with the other sporty-minded kids who swap hockey cards and music mix 
CDs.  They're too busy comparing high scores and cheats for video games 
like Grand Theft Auto and trading apples and sandwiches for cookies and 
pizza slices.  Meanwhile, at the farthest reaches of the lunchroom, 
there would be Dillon sitting alone with his thoughts, eating his 
sandwich from a brown metal lunch pail you'd see workers in factories 
eat from on TV.  Like his conservatively patterned shirts and the rough 
denim of his jeans, it looked antique and out of place in the modern 
hustle-bustle of an elementary school lunchroom set in the new 

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