“You and me got some unfinished business,” he said. I couldn’t figure out why he was mad again now. He hadn’t said anything to me for the past few days. He just glared at me when he caught my eye.

“Sorry about the shirt. I don’t even think Doug Stokes is that funny anymore,” I said. “He says a lot of dumb stuff. I’m probably even going to throw it out.”

Chum’s jaw was sticking out so I could see his lower teeth. He looked like one of those dogs who can hardly breathe. So I sort of laughed. Because nothing felt quite real. A few weeks ago, I had an awesome life. I was heading back to Circle Square with all my friends who had first names that ended in a y. You and I were going to try to come in second at the science fair and third in the school Ping-Pong tournament, and everything was great. And now I was being menaced by a boy named Chum who had teeth like a dog. That reminds me, I actually looked it up and it turns out that the word “chum” has more than one meaning. It means friend, which he obviously is not, but it also means a kind of fish you use to feed to other fish or even sharks: it’s not good to be chum or to be near one!

“I hate people like you,” he said. “You helped Dave with that test just now but not me. Maybe you think you’re better than me because…”

He couldn’t think of why I was better. But I could. For the first time in my life, I was mean to someone on purpose.

“Because I’m smarter and less of a jerk?” I said. “Because I don’t pick on people? Because my breath doesn’t smell like pepperoni and boiled egg farts?”

You’d have freaked out, Lar. I was kind of aggro for the first time in my life.

His face got redder and he was starting to snort with rage, like a bull or my mom doing Breath of Fire during yoga.

That’s when I remembered that I didn’t know any self-defense and should keep my mouth shut, even if I was feeling sick of everyone and everything.

Things were getting out of hand. It was time to calm things down. Time to use my Circle Square training in conflict resolution: Defuse. De-escalate. Use your words!

“Look, Chum,” I said in the calm voice our nanny used to use when we were driving her crazy.

“What did you call me?” He wasn’t growling anymore. He was kind of screeching.

“Uh,” I started. Before I could finish, he ran at me.