Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders by Geoff Herbach Page B

basketball teams!
    Sincerely,
    Gabriel Johnson
    MLAHS Class of 2015
    It was about 8 p.m. when I finished and I rolled out of the bed and stretched and blinked. Then I carried my computer upstairs to show the letter to Dad and Grandpa.
    Dad was snoring in his chair. Grandpa sat at the kitchen table reading a Cooking Light magazine.
    â€œHey, will you read this over for me? I have to send it in by midnight to get it in Thursday’s paper.”
    â€œUh-huh. Yup,” Grandpa said.
    I put the computer in front of him. He stared at it for about five minutes, which seemed a little long. He blinked. Sniffed. Then said, “You’re a hell of a smart kid. That’s good. That’s just plain good, Chunk.”
    â€œAll right,” I said. “Thanks, Grandpa!”
    â€œDoesn’t mean that jackass Friesen will print it. Man comes from a long line of pissants and assholes. Just be aware of that fact.”
    â€œHe’ll print it. What’s he got to lose?” I said.
    â€œKaus advertising bucks,” Grandpa said.
    â€œOh.” I thought for a second. But weren’t papers required to print opinion letters? Wasn’t that their job? “Well, I tried to be respectful,” I said.
    â€œIt’s a good letter, Gabe.”
    I went back downstairs, took a big breath, felt all proud and powerful and right and good. Then I fired the letter to [email protected] and that bastard wrote me back in like ten seconds! This is what he wrote:
    Chunk,
    Nice try. We have a representative democracy. We elect a school board, so it makes the important decisions for our community. The school board decided about the pop machine. I should know because I was at the meeting, so I was part of the situation over there. And I know Shaver is sad and in a pile of trouble now, but that is his own fault for not acting like an upstanding man. Sorry I can’t print your letter because you do not understand the nature of government. We should fire your teachers.
    Sincerely,
    Bob Friesen
    Okay, sir. You know who’s a total idiot?
    That’s right! Bob Friesen! He’s the publisher of the local newspaper and he doesn’t know anything about government ! My teachers, especially Mr. March in eighth grade, taught me plenty about government. There’s an open meeting law in Minnesota that requires school boards to announce not only the time and place of the meeting but what’s going to be on the agenda so community members can make statements for or against what’s being voted on (took me ten seconds to verify on Google). They posted the meeting about defunding the fall play. Because of Ms. Feagan, everybody went to the meeting to tell them no!
    Friesen is a jerk. Representational democracy? Holy balls, I know what that is! I’m not stupid. Bob Friesen wouldn’t publish my letter because…because—
    Money.
    Yeah, he’s Kaus’s golf buddy too. At least, he used to be. Things are changing with the Kauses.
    Oh, balls, was I pissed.
    I ran upstairs and told Grandpa what happened.
    He nodded and smirked. “Yup,” he said.
    â€œWho do I report this to? Who can I complain to?”
    â€œHell if I know. Ask your dad in the morning. He might have an idea.”
    â€œDamn,” I said.
    I trudged back downstairs and jumped on my bed and called Camille to tell her about this outrage!
    Her reaction wasn’t what I was expecting. She said, “You didn’t tell me you were going to write a letter, Chunk. I should be the one writing the letters.”
    â€œWhy is that?” I asked.
    â€œWell, I’m the smart one. Everybody will think we’re just joking if you write letters.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” I said.
    â€œYeah,” she said.
    â€œOh, really?” I said.
    â€œCan I post on Facebook that we’re going to have a practice at Gore’s house tomorrow?” Camille asked.
    â€œGreat,” I said. “Fine. You’d better