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Like I figured, Mom freaked. A full on, arm flailing, tear flooded, question filled freak out – "How did this guy find out Kirk? What did you say? What did you do?" Jeez, I have only got a third of my emotion back, but it is enough to feel floored by Mom. I know it is because she loves me; she has lost me once, now she has a fraction of me back, yet she is a couple of steps closer to losing me forever. This is tough for her. I know she will do anything to protect me – and that is a worry.
Mom does not wake in the morning; she sleeps off the bottle of wine she downed last night (at least that is what Dad says.) Luckily I have the ability to do my own make-up now, not as effectively as her, but I pass.
On the way to school Dad gives me a pep talk, "Don't get involved in anything today Kirk, any body try to be smart with you, just shrug them off – you understand?" I note a nervousness in him; I do not ever recall him being the nervy type when I was alive. Perhaps my death has changed him?
I meet Casey at the School entrance, "Wow, you look pretty today," I say. She looks at me, puzzled, "Did your Mom tell you to say that?" I laugh, 35% of real human laughter, "No, I am saying what I see Casey, you look just like the lovely girl you are. Trust me, you look gorgeous."
When we walk into the locker area, they all stare, and then look away. I expected this, was prepared for it – but not for what happens next.
The School Principle approaches, "Kirk, Casey, can you come with me please," he says, with authority.
He leads us into a classroom, where two police officers sit at a desk – with Dale. Cop one stands and thrusts his badge in our faces, "Are you Kirk Russel and Casey Edwards?" The principle leaves the room.
Dale sits with the Cops on one side of the desk, Casey and I on the other. I have a small sense of trouble ahead.
Cop one speaks, "Kirk, I hear you got hazed yesterday, is that right?"
"Yes."
"How did that make you feel?"
"Not much."
"It didn't make you pissed, fill you up with anger?"
"No."
"Why did you eat the guts, that's not exactly normal is it?"
Casey jumps in, angry, "Hey, having a whole load of shit thrown at you by twelve guys isn't normal!" She points at Dale, "He's the one you should be questioning, for arranging the abuse of a freshman; especially one who's on the Autistic spectrum." Cop two raises his hand along with his voice, "Quiet young lady, you speak when spoken too – understand?" She looks at me, frustrated by my lack of anger with the injustice of his questions. It is just that I don't care as much as I would if I had 100% of my emotional response to this situation.
