Elliot K. Carnucci is a Big Fat Loser

By Catherine DePino

The kids at Ralph Bunche Middle School love to pick on Elliot Kravitz-Carnucci. He struggles with his weight, looks like a geek, makes top honors, and lives above the Carnucci Home for Funerals in South Philadelphia with his distant, workaholic father and Nonna, his quirky, overbearing grandmother. Since his parents divorced, he splits his time between living with his father and his mother Rayna, who dreams of becoming the queen of commercials, on the west coast. At the hands of his peers, Elliot experiences a series of bullying episodes that escalate from entrapment in a school supply closet to a brutal “swirly” (head dunk in the toilet) that lands him in the hospital emergency room. Can Elliot win his fight against the nasty bullies, or is he doomed forever? Read this funny, sad, and crazy book to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
• Release date: Nov 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781624202919

Book preview

Elliot K. Carnucci is a Big Fat Loser

A Book About Bullying

Catherine DePino

Published by Rogue Phoenix Press for Smashwords

Copyright © 2016

ISBN 978-1-62420-291-9

Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, all other rights reserved by the author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my dear grandchildren: Drew, Hope, Luke, Chase, and Cole.

You are the sunshine of my life.

Chapter One: The Secret of the Universe

Help—I can't breathe—let me out. Somebody help...

I pounded the inside of the musty supply closet until my knuckles turned blue. Did anybody even have the key?

What if they don't come? What if I'm trapped here all night?

I could hear loud voices and laughing, so I knew Kyle Canfield and one of his friends from the basketball team were there, waiting to see if I would cave in and plead for mercy.

The bell blared. Classes changed. Kids stampeded through the halls. Then, silence.

Finally, I heard someone shout, I've got the key, Doc.

Thanks, Duke, Doc Greely, the assistant principal, said to Mr. Boardly, the man who'd sprung me loose.

Mr. Boardly, the head custodian, better known as Duke, offered me his arm, and I stumbled out of the closet. He was as thin as his mop handle, but all muscle, no flab like me. A scruffy white beard covered half his face.

He slammed the closet door shut and bolted the lock. One of the hall guards reported noise coming from this area. We came as soon as we heard.

Duke patted my shoulder. Let me know if I can help, Elliot. I could hear his keys clanging as he walked down the hall humming Duke of Earl, that old sixties song he loved. That's where he got his nickname.

~ * ~

Up to their old tricks again, Elliot? Doc asked on the way to his office.

I figured it was a dumb question, so I looked at the ground like I always do when an adult says something stupid.

Doc walked beside me, babbling nonstop. As I said when they pelted you with those mini pizzas in the cafeteria, 'I'll do everything I can, but I can't be there every minute.'

The kids at Ralph Bunche High School make fun of Doc because he has a belly that flops over his belt and makes him look like he's about to have a baby. They call him Beer Gut Greely behind his back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kyle Canfield and his buddy Derek Parker smiling. Fat loser, one of them whispered. That was their favorite name for me, but they loved to call me 2K, meaning two tons, so the teachers wouldn't have a clue about what they were up to.

Doc spun around to where they were standing. He enjoyed what he called catching culprits in the act, but it was too late. Kyle and Derek had already made a mad dash down the hall.

Doc barked into his walkie-talkie to Officer Grady, the school cop. Pick up Canfield and Parker in homeroom. Have the dean give them in-school suspension for three days. Looks like they didn't learn much from those detentions we gave them last time.

You got it, boss, Grady shouted over the phone static.

I followed Doc to his office and sank into the butt aching folding chair he reserved for kids who talked back, cursed out teachers, or cut class. Doc leaned back in his swivel chair and tapped the tips of his fingers together.

I read in Psychology Today how body language can tell you what's going on in people's heads. Steepling your fingers shows you think you're better than everybody. Doc thinks he has all the answers, especially when it comes to my harassment issues.

When I thought Doc would tumble over in his chair, he braced his hands on the desk and straightened up like he had a broomstick up his butt. He pointed his finger so close to my face I thought he'd gouge out my eye and I'd have to roam the earth like a Cyclops for the rest of my life.

He leaned toward me, and I could smell the stinky salami and provolone sandwich he usually ate for lunch. You know who can help you?

I shrugged, knowing what his answer would be.

"You can help you," he said, like he was giving me the secret of the universe.

I looked at him like he was an alien, but he didn't catch it.

What do you have to say about all this, Elliot?

I shrugged my shoulders. What did he expect me to say, that I was the big fat loser those guys always called me?

By now the whole school knew because they'd scribbled that name and a few others I won't mention on the bathroom wall.

Doc squinted at me with his muddy hazel eyes. He hated it when you didn't answer right away.

I shifted in my seat. For one thing, I'm not a loser like they say. Slightly unpopular maybe, but not a loser.

The fat part bothered me most. It's not that I haven't tried to control my appetite. I live with my dad who has a terminal weight problem, and my grandmother's force-fed me since birth.

If I don't eat, she says, You want to grow up to be a big hulk like your father or a puny runt like the other side of the family? She means the Kravitz side, of which my mom's a main member.

Doc raised his bushy eyebrows and shook his head like he did the other times Kyle and his boys bugged me, like he thought I was hopeless. Then he wrote a hall pass and sent me back to homeroom.

I didn't hurry because I consider homeroom the absolute worst period of the day. I say that because homeroom's nothing more than a group of kids banded together by their last names. I'm stuck with the C's, the biggest pains in the school, Kyle Canfield being a prime example.

In the fall, Kyle transferred here from Morgan Academy, a school for preppy kids. Not long after, Duke spotted the graffiti on the bathroom wall. Doc rounded up Kyle and his friends and made them scrub the red marker away until the wall was dingy gray again. It took hours, but they got to miss gym and health, my least favorite subjects, so it didn't seem like much of a punishment to me.

I knew Kyle must be planning something new because when I passed him on the way to my desk, he flashed me his smug smile and went back to texting his friends.

Not that I'm paranoid, but I'd seen that look before, and it always meant trouble.

His smile faded fast. Grady, the cop, breezed in and stood cross-armed at his desk. We meet again, Canfield.

Now I was really in for it. Anytime Kyle got in trouble, he gave me twice as much back.

Chapter Two: A Wiener and Fries

To my surprise, it looked like Kyle had decided to keep a low profile after coming off suspension, except for a few muffled 2k's when he passed me in the halls.

Maybe the threat of getting thrown off the basketball team stopped him from coming after me. I wasn't going to let my guard down because you never knew with him.

I didn't really have time to think about Kyle because during the next few days I had chorus rehearsals during lunch. We were working on show tunes for a parents' night concert, and Ms. Cooper, the choir director, gave me a solo for the third time this year.

The lyrics of the song I'd sing, This is the Moment, from the Broadway show, Jekyll and Hyde, hit me like a blast of sunshine.

The words made me think things might eventually work out even though it might not seem that way now. Was I kidding myself? All I knew was when I sang nothing else seemed to matter. After the kids left practice and we were alone, Ms. Cooper said, I'm going to introduce you to one of the top singing teachers in Philly. That voice is going to take you places.

A few days after the concert, I brought my lunch tray to a corner table far from Kyle and his friends. No sooner had I sunk my fork into a plate of mushy Shepherd's Pie when splat, a clump of squishy mustard landed on my head.

Kyle and a couple of teammates surrounded my table, and using those packets you get with hot dogs and fries, aimed rounds of mustard, followed by ketchup, at every part of my anatomy.

When I tried to make a run for it, Kyle stuck his immense foot in my path. The kids around me couldn't see because his friends were blocking me. Not that most of them would have done anything to stop it.

Red and yellow dripped from my arms, legs, and hair, making me look like a jumbo Ronald McDonald.

I guess somebody finally noticed because before long Doc appeared on the scene with Officer Grady.

Doc nodded toward Kyle and his friends, who had almost made it to the cafeteria entrance. Tell the dean I want them suspended, no in-school suspension this time. We'll need to see a parent before we let them back in.

Sure thing, boss, Officer Grady said, running to catch up with them.

I dumped the plate of Shepherd's Pie in the trash. It smelled like throw up and looked like the slop they feed inmates.

Doc turned to me. Any idea what brought this one on?

Maybe they were pissed because they'd lost the game to Calvin Coolidge High, and they needed to take it out on somebody. Does it really matter?

Doc rubbed his forehead. I guess there's never a reason, one that counts anyway. The important thing is what to do about it.

I wiped my head and arms with my sleeve but the mustard and ketchup clung to me like paint.

I'll do what I can from my end, Doc said. Do you have any ideas about how to stop this?

He peered at the kids at a nearby table who had started to stare, and they turned away.

Let's go talk in my office, Doc said, and I followed him down the hall.

Did he really expect an answer? Nobody in the school could make them stop, so what made him think I would know what to do? I didn't want to be stuck in Doc's dingy office all day, so I had to say something.

I probably shouldn't sit by myself in the lunchroom if I don't want to be an open target. The problem is my friend Roy practices with the track team, so he can't always be here.

Doc gave me a look. I guess you'll have to make more friends then.

I don't have time. I'm too busy with honors classes, Mathletes, and chorus.

Had I confirmed Doc's suspicion I was a genuine geek and loser like Kyle and his friends thought?

Doc took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. That kind of attitude will get you nowhere. I'm not saying you have to be part of a crowd, but maybe you can meet more kids, do things together.

I'll think about it, I said, hoping he'd stop yapping.

Doc reached for his phone. I'll call your mother and father, tell them we need to talk.

My parents are divorced. I live with my dad and grandmother. Mom lives in California.

It will have to be Dad then. Doc never gave up.

Dad probably won't be able to make it. He's a funeral director and works twenty-four/seven.

Doc ignored me and dialed our number.