Seymour shivered as a chilly gust of wind blew into his face. Damp leaves were doing spirals every which way and the sky was a dark gray. A gray the color of a dirty old washcloth, or something of that sort. His backpack felt as if it were crammed to the brim with rocks and bricks. Seymour felt as though he was being dragged through the slushy snow he was trudging through. It would’ve made Seymour’s day feel less burdensome if the sun had been out. He enjoyed glancing at the sun once in a while on his trek to school. Alas, it hadn’t been out in a few days, as fall weather was slowly settling in, and Seymour felt even more smothered slush.

            After what seemed like an eternity, Seymour’s school came into view. The bold, foreboding letters on the front of the school read: Richard Academy Public School. When he entered the school, Seymour winced at the blinding brightness of the florescent ceiling lights. He theorized that the annoying lights glowed more every day just to make Seymour feel even more terrible. As Seymour crossed through various confusing halls, he noted to himself that he shouldn’t have worn his gray, almost black, jacket. The air conditioning was obviously not working and everywhere he turned, Seymour was met with humidity.

            When Seymour passed through the cafeteria he almost gagged at the musty, greasy smell. This was his least favorite place in the entire school. As if to make matters worse, Seymour had no choice but to cross through the cafeteria every day to get to his classes. At lunch, Seymour always half-heartedly gulped down his meal as quick as he could so he could spend the least amount of time in the wretched dwelling. Then, at the end of each agonizingly slow school day, Seymour lugged his cumbersome bag back through. No matter many times Seymour did this act, he never got used to the cafeteria.

            Seymour slunk through the halls trying to distract himself from the burdens of his life. He concluded on going over what he had to turn in for his Seventh-Grade classes.

            “So, I need to turn in my math assignment for Math Class,” Seymour mused to himself in a whisper. Also, all my other work for other periods, he thought instead of speaking this time. School was one of the only things he enjoyed in life.

            There were other joys that came occasionally to Seymour, such as extra credit homework, and an exceptional grade (A’s were the goal Seymour had set for himself, and he wouldn’t accept anything lower). Other kids walked past him as he made his way down the hall. Seymour tried to avoid eye contact with anyone. He wasn’t in the mood for conversations. It was easier for Seymour to keep to himself and his thoughts and observations.

            “Hey Seymour,” a student called to Seymour jerking him out of his griping.

            “Hello, Lee,” he replied, trying to keep his displeasure out of his voice as he turned his head.

“How’s it going?” Lee asked with an always-cheerful look on his face. Seymour sometimes wished that he could reflect Lee’s positive attitude. Oh, how much happier I would be, he reflected.

Seymour noticed the expectant look on Lee’s face, and he remembered that he was having a conversation. Exact reason I don’t like them. You’re supposed to talk, not think. I prefer thinking over talking any day.

“Uh, yeah, fine,” Seymour stated, struggling to find words, “same as any day.”

Lee’s ‘glad to be alive’ expression came back. “Let me guess, you were lost in thought,” Lee figured, smiling, “typical Seymour.”

Seymour forced a smile to form on his face, and then went on his way. Typical Seymour, what’s that supposed to mean? Seymour wondered. He reached his locker and turned toward it. Seymour opened it and glanced inside. His locker was orderly and neat; just the way he liked it. Seymour took off his dark gray jacket, and set it gently on the hook in his locker. He was wearing an almost black shirt and black jeans, the same boring outfit he wore every single day. Seymour wasn’t sick of the dreary clothes at all; if he couldn’t wear them regularly, he’d quite miss them.

More students were jamming different textbooks, notebooks, and other ridiculous school items into their lockers around him. They weren’t doing a very tidy job, at the look of it, and Seymour grimaced. He set down his backpack and carefully unzipped it. Seymour pulled out his binder and set it in the far-left corner on one of his shelves. He repeated this with all his other textbooks. Seymour smiled as he reached in his bag to dig out his last needed item: his math book. He was met with empty space. Seymour reached farther in. There was nothing. He searched to the left and right. Still nothing. Seymour’s math book wasn’t there.

What!? I swear I put it in there. Where is it? WHERE IS IT!?! Seymour panicked. He had to have his math book or he would be marked down. Seymour definitely didn’t want that; it made his gut clench just contemplating it.

“How’s your day been, Seymour?” a voice said behind him. It was Derick, a red-haired freckled student with a knowing smile. Seymour hated being around him. Not only was Derick annoying, he was also clever and knew how to make someone’s day worse. He was well-known around Richard Academy Public School, and had a reputation of humiliating people. Derick made people do embarrassing dares that would either get them in trouble or make them the laughing-stock for weeks. He only preyed on people whose day was on the lowest rung possible. Seymour tried to avoid Derick but for some reason Derick was trying to start a conversation with him.

Seymour stood up from his stooping stance and looked Derick in the eyes. He couldn’t help but notice that Derick was wearing a jacket suspiciously like his.

“Hey, is that my jacket…?” Seymour nervously asked.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but,” Derick responded smoothly with a crooked smile, “I think I asked you a question first.”

 “Okay… um, I’m doing well…?” Seymour stammered struggling to remember Derick’s question.

            “That sounds more like a question than an answer,” Derick replied giving another jagged grin. Seymour stared blankly at him. Derick scowled. “Do you even remember the question?”

            Seymour’s mind was racing. What was a comeback that would end this conversation? Suddenly an idea popped into his head. Seymour didn’t know what the outcome would be, but it was worth a try. “I believe that my question was uttered before yours,” Seymour muttered back, “so answer.”

            Derick looked surprised but quickly bounced back, “Fine, fine. It’s my new jacket. I got two days ago.” This was not the answer Seymour had expected. He had predicted that Derick had taken his jacket while Seymour was hunched over. If that wasn’t the case, then why is Derick here? We never talk! What does he want? Derick casually walked over to Seymour slyly inspecting Seymour’s possessions with a keen eye.

            “Hmmm, seems as if you’re forgetting one of your textbooks Seymour,” Derick recorded, “that’s doesn’t look good.”

            Another jolt of panic stabbed through Seymour. “Yeah, I don’t know what came of my math book,” he answered. “I don’t know where it is.”

            “Oh, I can help with that,” Derick replied in a silky tone.

            “You can?!!?!” Seymour blurted.

            “Oh yes,” Derick confirmed, “but I’ll need you to do something for me first.” A rock thudded in Seymour’s stomach. It went down, down, down. I know what’s next. Seymour thought, wincing.

            “What?” he eventually forced himself to mutter.

            “You see, Seymour, I’ve got this apple. It’s all smelly and rotten. Could you please place it on Mr. Cee’s desk?” Derick requested. “I’ll let you borrow my math book.”

            “O-o-ok,” Seymour agreed without thinking. He reached for the book Derick was holding. Derick grinned with pleasure as he gave it to Seymour.

            What am I doing? He questioned himself. I’ll surely be in trouble-Mr. Cee is grouchy and gruff. He’ll pounce any chance he gets to punish me. Either way I go, I’ll still get in trouble. Seymour was bewildered. What was worth it? Spending the whole day without his math textbook or getting scolded for a ridiculous dare? I could share with someone, Seymour considered, but that will involve conversations.

            “Here’s the apple, Seymour!” Derick said, with intense glee that startled Seymour back into reality. He hadn’t noticed that he was shaking. Seymour reluctantly put a trembling arm into motion towards the plastic bag that Derick had unsurfaced from his locker. Seymour grimaced as he grabbed the bag.

            I can’t do this! He thought, biting his lip. The bell for homeroom was going to ring soon. Seymour could clearly imagine its earsplitting ring.

            “Oh, Seymour,” Derick said, “try to make it as edible-looking as possible in there.” Derick gave him a mischievous smile. Seymour winced, knowing that he had to commit this act soon. “Get on with it,” Derick encouraged nodding enthusiastically.  He gave Seymour another crooked grin.

            “I really don’t want to do this,” Seymour choked out. Derick looked utterly shocked, but then gave him another devious smirk.

            “Well, then I’ll have to take my math book back,” he sneered. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

            “N-n-no,” Seymour stuttered back. He really didn’t want to place the apple on Mr. Cee’s desk, but Seymour didn’t know what else he could do. He was seriously perplexed. Seymour sighed, almost dropping Derick’s math book; which felt like an ice-cold stone in his hands. Maybe I can back out of this, Seymour decided. Then, what he had been dreading, the bell rang.

            “Get on with it,” Derick stated loudly, making Seymour jerk his head back up. As he did a horrendous smell wafted into Seymour’s nose. He had to use self-control not to gag. He could not give this to Mr. Cee.

            “You know what Derick,” Seymour responded, unrecognizable confidence surging through him, “no, I won’t do this.” “Just no.” He dropped the apple and handed Derick his math book.

            “No!” Derick cried out unexpectedly, not accepting the math book. “Please don’t.”

            “Why?” Seymour interrogated curiously. Derick didn’t respond, and Seymour persisted, “Why?”

            “No one has never not completed dares before,” Derick mumbled. “I just can’t be beat! I just can’t be!!” Tears were forming in his eyes.

            “Why not?” Seymour pressed. He couldn’t understand why Derick was so upset.

            “People will make fun of me!” Derick stated. Seymour wasn’t convinced.

            “Are you sure…?” Seymour asked slowly. Derick shook his head rapidly, almost unnaturally, as if he were trapped in another universe.

            “Jase Brim,” Derick whispered.

            “Jase who?” Seymour uttered, bamboozled.

            “H-he was a kid I knew at my old school,” Derick stuttered. “J-jase always b-bullied m-me because he thought I was a n-nerd. One day, he p-pushed me into a locker and started calling me terrible things.”

“Hey shrimp, why are you called DARE-ick? You’re too geeky to ever dare anyone,” Derick imitated Jase with passion. Calming down he resumed, “After I transferred here, I vowed to dare anyone to prove Jase wrong.”

Now Seymour understood; he felt the exact same way.  I would never want something like that to happen to me, he realized. Sympathy and empathy flooded through him at the same time. I need to comfort him, Seymour thought. He went over to Derick and gave him a hug. A hug; Seymour never gave hugs. He couldn’t believe what he was doing.

            An idea was forming in Seymour’s mind. It was as if Derick was Seymour, just in a different form. Or person, he added. Their minds were alike, Seymour realized. So, everyone can have happy days, too, Seymour figured. Suddenly Seymour felt some strange feeling seeping into his dreary soul and erasing everything horrible. He started feeling enthusiastic about his usually terrible life. Is this happiness? It had to be. Seymour felt different. The world wasn’t as dark as he had imagined.

            Seymour glanced at Derick. He was smiling! That made more joy pulse through Seymour. A wide grin spread across his face. A delicious smell wafted from the direction of the cafeteria.

            “Do you smell that?” he asked Derick. Derick glanced at him surprised.

            “What? You didn’t know?”

            “Know what?” Seymour wondered.

            “A new chef was hired! They replaced old Barry Boris with an exceptional cook.” Seymour gaped.

            “Really?!”

            “We got to get to class,” Derick reminded him. “If, you want, we can share my math book,” he added.

            “Okay!” Seymour answered enthusiastically. He scooped up the apple and threw it in a trash can. Derick nodded, confirming that it was okay with him. Then they both turned and went into homeroom together. The sun peeking through one of the room’s windows.

            “Hey, Seymour over here!” Lee called gesturing for him to sit down.

            “Coming!” Seymour replied smiling. Derick followed him, smiling joyfully at Lee. It was time to start the day, and Seymour realized, it was going to be a good one.