Meet Me in the Cafeteria

Writer’s note

Thackeray does all the talking. I wanted it that way, what they call a dramatic monologue. He's got so much to say that it felt like a logical approach to his story. He tells it to you at the same time he tells it to a boy he goes to school with. Thackeray doesn't really know what the story is; that doesn't stop him from getting it across in the fits and starts of his emotional discourse.

Thackeray, a very mouthy 7th-grade boy, stalks the boy with the coolest haircut in school. He gets a teacher to tell him the boy's name; he drops a note in the boy's locker. The poor boy has got no idea what Thackeray has in mind for him - their meeting in the cafeteria only the start of this journey into the unknown desires of junior high school.

A 12-year-old boy in the first semester of 7th grade will never make it to the Christmas break.

The plan... find somebody that can catch your fall.

The beginning of the story…

Thanks for meeting me here.

I know you must think it's all weird. Yeah, I kind of stalked you, then put that note in your locker.

I didn't think you would show up but I'm glad you did. I think me and you are in the same grade. 7th, right?

Here's what it comes down to. Oh, first off, my name is Thackeray. I don't know, it's English or something.

I think I heard that your name is Cruz. It doesn't matter how I found out. Let's just say I wanted to know.

I'm gonna need your help for something I've got planned. You've got the right to know what it is but I'm not gonna go that far. You'll have to trust me.

This grapefruit? I was about to cut it into pieces if you want some. Oranges are better. I won't blame you if you don't want any.

The main thing is, it's all up to you. I'm not that much involved like you are. From this point on, it's all pretty much your deal. You get to figure out what the right choices are, and some of the wrong ones.

I'm around and I wanna know what's going on. I'm easy to find, plus you know my name.

No, it's not about turning in reports or that type of thing. Save that for your classes if you like turning in homework. This is word-of-mouth stuff.

I can meet you anywhere, including my house. Don't tell my parents what's going on. Of course, you don't know what's going on. That's the beauty of it.

Yeah, anyone in your position is going to want to know what's in it for them. Nothing, really. If you think there's a bunch of money waiting for you down the line, you've got it wrong.

You can walk away whenever you want. All I can do is hope that you won't.

The school didn't put me up to this. It's not like there are dark forces backing me up and you've got to wonder who they are. It's just me.

Me? I started school here like you did but you like it better than I do. Because you look like you do. You dress nice, you look like you respect the place.

I mean, I do my best, sort of. But I'm not like you, I would never raise my hand in class.

Believe it or not, I might know the answer but I don't want to give them the satisfaction. I'm not gonna tell them anything. Besides, I know that you will do it for me.

That's why you're here. It's about faith. I can make it real corny if you want, which is that I've got faith in you.

I don't care how that sounds. Maybe you like it, maybe you don't. The only thing that matters to me is that you don't walk out.

I wish I had something for you other than a badly cut grapefruit. But you know how this place is. They won't even give you a decent knife to cut stuff with and the one I smuggled in was overkill or something. I'm gonna have to smuggle it back out before my parents realize one of the steak knives is missing.