Finally, there was her non-relative friend, Atti Mehra. They had met two years ago in fifth grade, and had been pretty much inseparable since. They were the walking-talking embodiment of the old saw about opposites attracting.
Where Ro was the tallest girl in their class, Atti was among the shortest. Where Ro was slender, with no butt and, at almost thirteen still with hardly even the hint of busts, Atti was round and hippy, and already had a noticeable bustline. Where Ro couldn’t be less interested in boys and what they thought of her, Atti liked vaunting her nascent sexuality. Where Ro tended to be quiet and reserved, Atti loved being impertinent and even a little rowdy. Where Ro looked forward to her several times a week runs, Atti much preferred sitting in front of her computer playing video games – her favorite being Doom.
This semester they had different classes the last period of the day, so sometimes Ro would get to the long bike rack outside of the school before Atti, sometimes after. Typically, they would ride to Atti’s home to do homework, to hang out, or maybe watch TV – their favorite being reruns of the old Rocky and Bullwinkle show.
Their habit had turned into Atti’s place for two reasons, for one it was the closest to the school, but for another, unlike Ro, who’s room was a typical split-level ten-by-twelve bedroom, Atti had her own large “studio” above the Mehra’s garage that even had its own three-quarter bath.
So, Ro was a little confused when she emerged from the school’s main entrance, glanced down the paved schoolyard toward the bike rack some thirty yards to her left and saw Atti with three boys.
Being something of a flirt, that Atti would be talking to boys wasn’t surprising, except the much larger boys − they looked like eighth or ninth graders – appeared to be crowding in on Atti, hemming her in menacingly. And her black Caboodle was lying on the ground, its top open…
Next: The bullies
(C) 2018 Dave Lager