Diary of a Shrimpy Kid

Chapter 6: Author's Note: Shit Goes Down Here

After the evening's success in the culinary club, Chad walked into school that Wednesday morning full of confidence. He passed fellow club members, jerking his chin at them in acknowledgement, giving a few of them finger guns. He smiled at passing teachers, and stopped to do his secret handshake with Goldie (top secret sneak peak: it ends in a forbidden fist bump). He heard the first warning bell for first hour and scurried off to his locker. As he fumbled with the combination, he overheard Marlin the Marvin's obnoxious baritone voice. Chad looked over his shoulder and saw him and his cronies crowded together whispering. They were speaking too quietly for Chad to hear their full conversation but what snippets he did hear sounded suspiciously like his name, Shellby's name, and fishing. Chad didn't care that they were talking about him, but he was furious they were talking about Shellby. Beautiful, kind, smart, strong Shellby was the last person those punks should be talking about. He gathered books as his thoughts moved from anger to curiosity. Why were they talking about Shellby and him in the same conversation as fishing? Was there a connection between them? Chad of course never fished....did Shellby...no...but still....why? Chad walked to his first class but he was still disturbed by how these words had any connection.

Thinking about these things in his first class brought back some not so pleasant memories for him.

When he was just a wee shrimp egg, his uncle Jeb was killed by a fishing company. He remembered how sad it had made his parents, and they continued to tell him stories about his late uncle well into his early teenhood.

"Uncle Jeb", his father would start with a far off look in his clam eyes, "Even though he was weird, we still miss him."

His mother would nod, "He had a good heart, total wack job weirdo, but your father is right, Chad, we still miss him."

While Chad of course could see that Uncle Jebb's death was traumatic for his parents, he never quite felt that same loss about weird Uncle Jebb. He always just took these moments of reflection as warnings against swimming too close to the fishing boats, warnings which had saved his life more than once.

They didn't save cousin Ricky Bobby though.

May, summer fun, laughter, girls. It was a perfect day spent languidly with his favorite cousin. Of course Ricky Bobby wasn't actually his cousin, he just kinda showed up at a family reunion one time and then just kept coming since he was also a mantis shrimp, but they had grown up together and felt that cousin was appropriate in this case. Ricky Bobby was a wild card. He had shown Chad how to go seahorse tipping, where to grip a stingray and hitchhike without getting stung, and, best of all, how to make an octopus ink itself. Though he had proven himself to be quite the daredevil, he wasn't invincible.

On that May day at the start of what would have been a promising summer, Ricky Bobby was trying to impress some girls. He was calling them shrimpy wimpys, a classic taunt, because they wouldn't swim up close to the fishing boats. He was swimming laps around the boat to show them how brave he was and how silly they were. The girls were laughing nervously and Chad was thinking about joining him since nothing had happened. Suddenly though, that May day and the girly giggles were cut short because Ricky Bobby disappeared out of the water. The boat with its flashy Bubble Bump Clam Catchery logo (a clam relaxing in a bubble with a cold margarita and sunglasses) sped off.

Chad now understood what his parents felt when they thought about losing Uncle Jebb like this, he was stunned.

He kept thinking about this and that shrimp logo which was burned into his eyes all throughout the day until it was time for seventh hour, oceanic history.

Class had already started when Chad finally walked in the door fifteen minutes late with starbucks. Shellby watched him as he took his seat beside her and said nothing.

"There's a starbucks across the street," Shellby said to him. "What took you so long?"

Chad didn't answer, instead pretending he was listening to the teacher. He hadn't actually gone to starbucks. He had an old cup in his locker that he picked up to explain why he'd been so late, but he had actually just been standing in the hall for fifteen minutes.

Mr. Starboard was talking about something, something that involved the words "shrimp" and "rice", but Chad couldn't pay attention to the lecture. His mind swam with thoughts of the things Marlin and his friends were saying about Shellby and what they possibly could have meant. Maybe it hadn't been what he'd thought it had been about, maybe they had been talking about how Shellby opposed fishing instead of supporting it. But he couldn't shake the possibility that they weren't. (authr noht: stahp flamyn haturs ejit prups) (author author's note: The previous authrs noht is non canon)

The bell rang and everyone stood up to leave. Shellby tried to walk up to him but he sped up and ducked into the hallway.

Chad scuttled through the labyrinthine maze of the Harbored High School. Being so short it made it swimmingly easy to get away from Shellby. He just didn't want to talk to her right now until he cooled off. He worried that he might've misheard what Marlin had been talking about and the last thing he wanted was a repeat of The Incident. He had stopped in a secluded corner of the hallway that led to the old, abandoned science labs. They had been closed after some over ambitious students had nearly caused Three Mile Island 2: Electric Boogaloo. As a result no one liked to go over there anymore. The students who were assigned lockers there tended to glow slightly by the end of the school year. It made a perfect place to sulk for Chad.

A fish shaped shadow loomed over him and Chad looked up. It was Marvin the Magician, his snickers sounding like popping bubbles.

"Well, well, well. Look who the tide swept in," Mila said.

"Go away Mateo," Chad said angrily.

Micah slammed Chad into the locker wall. "My name is Marvin!" Micah roared.

"If you say so. What do you want?"

"I saw you floating around earlier today while I was talking about your little lady friend," Matilde smiled evilly. "Do you want to know the truth?"

"Why should I trust anything you tell me?" Chad demanded as images of Shellby flashed through his mind. Her fine white hair, her milk chocolatey skin tone, her concerning amount of wrinkles, her anime style dresses that she tended to wear, and her smooth baritone voice perfect for narrating documentaries.

"Because I would never lie to you about something so good like this," he replied and with a gleeful glint in his eye, he said, "Shellby is hiding her family from you. She pretends to be some happy go lucky California valley girl, but she is actually the heir to the most powerful fishing company this side of the Atlantic."

If Chad had ears, he would've held his club hands over them. "I'm not listening!" he lied.

"You're telling me you've never heard of Bubble Gump Shrimp Company?" Miner continued, oblivious to Chad's protests. "Her parents own it, you know. The only reason she pretends to like you is because she wants to lure you to her parent's basement and turn you into cat food."

Chad couldn't take it anymore. This was too much, even if Mahi was lying, all this was doing was open up old wounds and traumas. He began to breathe more and more rapidly. He was having a panic attack. He had to get out of here. Markee didn't try to stop him as Chad fled out of the school and jumped into the ocean, sinking into the dark depths below, drowning in despair.