A Funny Thing Happened in Spanish Class

Arno Makes a Putz of Himself

The following Monday, Arno and his friends were in the halls walking to first period when Beckie walked up to Arno.

"Hey," she said, looking concerned, "Arno, what happened? You weren't at the game on Friday and you never answered my texts."

It felt to Arno as if an anvil just dropped into his stomach. It's for the best, he thought, steeling himself. "Beckie," he said, the words heavy like wrought iron as he said them, "I've been thinking..."

Beckie's eyes widened in horror. Quantell and Traylor glanced at Arno, curious to see what happened next.

"This... this thing," said Arno, "this thing with you... and me... giving me flowers, taking me on dates... y'know... it just can't work—"

Beckie's face crumpled. She bit her lip, then glared viciously at Arno. "Fine!" she snapped. "I... I understand." She closed her eyes and gasped. "Go fuck yourself, Arno van Keef!"

Beckie turned on her heel and ran off, keeping her head down as she went. Arno, Traylor, and Quantell watched as Beckie Applebaum turned a corner and vanished from sight.

"She took that well," said Traylor sarcastically.

"She's nuts, anyway," said Quantell.

Arno stared at the space where Beckie had been only moments before. "Guys, I think I just messed up big time," he said, a look of dread now on his face.

Quantell looked at Arno. "What are you talking about?"

You ever have a brilliant idea, but once you implement it you immediately regret it? That was precisely how Arno felt that moment. His face crumpled with sadness. I just broke up with Beckie, he thought to himself miserably. What the hell was I thinking?

"I just dumped the most awesome girl I've ever met," said Arno, staring into oblivion.

Quantell stared at Arno. "Dude, don't let your feelings get the better of you!" he said. "You—"

"No," said Arno. "I don't wanna be without her—"

"Well that's said and done," said Traylor. "She looked pissed—"

"Language, Traylor," said Mr. Huffington. "The only language I want to hear from you is Spanish. You and your friends get to class."

"Yes, Mr. Huffington," said the three friends as they departed.

~ ~ ~

As the day went on, Arno was wracked with guilt and regret. He saw Beckie a few times in the hall, but whenever he tried to approach her she turned and left. In Spanish, she paired up with Carly Simpson. Arno had to practice his dialogue with Calvin, whom Arno was pretty sure was stoned for the entire exchange.

Throughout the remainder of the school day and the bus ride home, Arno formulated a plan to reconcile with Beckie. He took the city bus to Cafe Solaire, where he found Lisa waiting tables, just as he hoped.

"Lisa!" cried Arno.

"What do you want?" she asked with a scowl.

"I need to find Beckie," said Arno. "I need to talk to her—"

"Well she doesn't want to talk to you!" said Lisa, turning away to get back to her job.

"Please!" begged Arno. "I really messed up—"

"Too bad," said Lisa.

"I lost an awesome girl—"

"You bet your pasty dumb South African ass you did," said Lisa dismissively.

"Lisa, please!" cried Arno. "I need to talk to Beckie... She won't answer my calls or texts. I shouldn't have listened to my idiot friends. If I can just find her, I can probably fix this. I'll do anything to make things right with her."

Lisa turned around and sighed. "God, guys are so dumb," she said. "Girls are smart enough to not let our friends mess up our relationships."

"Yes, I was an idiot," said Arno desperately. "There, I said it! Please, just help me talk to Beckie... you're my only hope."

Lisa looked at Arno. He seemed almost on the edge of tears. Lisa felt pity come over her like fog over a hill. "Alright," she said. "Pull yourself together. She lives at..." she took out her waitress pad and jotted something down, then tore it out and handed the slip of paper to Arno. "...this address. Good luck dealing with her parents, though."

Arno looked at the paper and smiled. "It's better than nothing!" he said breathlessly. "Thanks, Lisa!" he said before turning and running off. Lisa shrugged and returned to her work.

According to the paper, Beckie Applebaum lived at 448 Clementine Street. That was about nine blocks from Cafe Solaire, in Finnegan's eastern residential district. He punched the address into Google on his phone and began following the directions there.

Alright, Arno thought to himself, I'll just walk up there, will probably have to sweet talk her folks—no worries—and I can talk with Beckie and make things right. I can do this.

As he walked along Lee Street, a dark blue Cadillac pulled up alongside the sidewalk. Arno turned and stared just as the windows rolled down. Out popped the heads of three men in their 20s.

"Are you Arno van Keef?" asked one with dark brown hair cut short and glasses.

Arno stared at the young men. In addition to the one with glasses, another had a buzz cut and goatee while the third was clean shaven and had long curly hair. "Uh... yes...?" he said, baffled. "Who are you?"

"I'm Isaac Applebaum," said the one with glasses. "And these are my brothers: Elijah and Malachi."

"You're the putz who broke our little sister's heart!" snarled Elijah, who had the buzz cut and goatee as he and his brothers climbed out of the car. Arno stepped back in horror.

"Prepare to die, Dutch boy!" cried Malachi, grinning maniacally and wielding a crowbar.

Arno van Keef would go to his grave unsure exactly what happened next. He was fairly certain Malachi Applebaum struck him on the head, because the last thing he recalled clearly was Malachi approaching him with that crowbar raised and ready, but everything after that was a blur. Arno also suspected that the Applebaum brothers kicked him in the head and ribs once he was down, because both ached and were extremely tender for about a month after that encounter.

When Arno finally came to, he was lying on the pavement, bruised and bloody. He checked his phone and realized he'd been lying there about an hour. Arno sat up and realized his head was throbbing... no matter! He had to find Beckie. Arno picked himself up and dusted himself off, then brought back up Google Maps and continued on his way to 448 Clementine Street.