Fiction: The Juvins

The Juvins

                Matt Hall turned and looked at me scornfully, “Git outta here Drew, this is a Juvins secret.  Get out of our convo.”

                I slumped to the back of the pack, trying to save face, “Like I give a fuck about your stupid convo anyway.”  Once back there I muttered under my breath, “Cocksucker.”  If he heard me, he ignored it.  This was for the best, as I liked my facial features where they were.

                Reece, another recent exile, said, “Why are you always worried about their secrets?  They’re stupid anyway.”

                “I know,” I replied, “They don’t know shit about shit.  It just pisses me off. There weren’t any secrets last year.”

                “Yeah, but there was no Sara last year.”

Fourth grade began with an explosion of hormones among all the boys in my class.  Primarily caused by the arrival of Sara, a new girl who seemed more exotic and beautiful than the same old girls we had been going to school with for the last three years.   She also could raise one eyebrow, a look that I found hilarious and heart-meltingly cute.  I spent two weeks practicing in the mirror just so I could return the look. 

This shift in interest from spots to girls created a haves and have-nots split among the class of boys.  Matt, Mike, Dave, and Whitey were the cool kids; they knew what a naked girl looked like because they had HBO and inattentive parents, and the rest of us were not.  Those who were “in” started calling themselves Juvin, short for Juvenile Delinquent.  The rest of us were allowed to hang around because they still needed us to fill out football teams and stuff, but we were excluded from all of the dirty talk and jokes that were being told. These were the same kids that I spent the night with since I was 5, and I couldn’t understand why I was being left out. 

Our walk home took us on a white gravel path though a nature preserve.  The path wound through the carefully cultivated “wild” prairie grass and over the nearby creek.  We caught up to the Juvin kids on the bridge.  Matt, the leader of the pack, was staring over the side.

“It’s not that far, just do it,” he was saying to Mikey.

“Shit, dude, my mom’ll kill me if I come home all wet,” he whined.

“Fuck that, I‘ll do it,” Dave said as he climbed though the railing of the bridge.  “See ya suckers!”  He cried as he let go and splashed into the water.

“That was fuckin’ awesome!”  Matt gloated as he climbed outside the rail.  He turned to us, “Only a true Juvin would be able to jump off this bridge!”  He let go and landed with a splash.

I saw my opening and took it.  I didn’t care that I still had on my good school Lees, I didn’t care that I didn’t have anther pair of shoes at home and they’d still be wet tomorrow, I didn’t care that Mom was not working today and she was going to ground me for playing in the creek, I didn’t care that I was ordinarily the chicken of our group, I didn’t even care that my ankle was still weak from where I had sprained it at basketball camp.  I wanted to be Juvin more than I had ever wanted anything. 

I was frequently a step behind the crowd my whole childhood.  But I had hung on to my moderate level of popularity throughout it all, being the last one to get a two wheel bike, not having an Atari when everyone else had one, being afraid to play tackle football because I was smaller than all of my friends, even the fact that I wet the bed until I was 5 so I couldn’t go to sleepovers or camping.  Through all of this I had managed to keep myself in the group.  Being excluded now for no fucking reason was unbearable to me.  I wasn’t going to let this chance pass me by.

As I started to make my way through the crowd to the bridge Reece grabbed my shirt, “No way dude, you just got off crutches.  You can’t.”

I shook him off, “Fuck off pussy, I’m not scared,” I lied.  I didn’t take the time to think about it, even to look down at my landing, I just jumped, never mind the consequences.

And there were no consequences.  I was only an eight foot drop.  I splashed in the water, which was barely knee high.  I didn’t even get my torso wet.

Have you ever seen those old Looney Tunes cartoons where the little dog keeps bouncing around the big dog saying “Are we gonna beat up a cat today Spike?  Are we Spike?  Huh?  Huh?  Are we? And the big dog walks with his nose in the air trying to ignore the little yapping dog?  Well imagine me as the little yapping dog.  “So I’m Juvin now right?  I jumped off the bridge and Hallster said anyone who jumps off the bridge must be Juvin, right? So where we goin’ next?  I gotta go drop off my bookbag and then I’ll meetcha right, guys?  ‘Cause I’m Juvin just like you, right guys?”  They basically ignored me, but I had ‘em. A technicality maybe, but I had ‘em.  I was Juvin.

As I split from my new friends to drop off my schoolwork and pick up my bike the adrenaline faded and I began to realize that I was that dog in the cartoon.  I was disgusted with myself.  I could hear my mother’s voice in my head, “If all of your friends were jumping off a bridge, would you?”  I realized what pathetic loser I was.   I had literally jumped off a bridge because all my friends were doing it.   I went into my room and cried, knowing that no one would ask me tomorrow why I didn’t go find the Juvins that afternoon.  I wouldn’t even have to make up an excuse.