I don't know if going camping one last time this weekend is going to be such a good idea.
Let's face it: Roman, my best friend, and myself (my name is Bilal) aren't exactly full of grace and talent. Seems that anything we put our hands on either breaks, falls apart, or we end up getting laughed at by the other kids at school (or wherever we may be at).
For instance, take last Friday. The opening day of our middle school football season. The first game to start the year off right. Roman and I were in charge of giving the footballers water when they came to the sidelines. We were doing great for the first two quarters, but then, in the middle of the third quarter, this big goon who weighed at least 1,000 pounds managed to bounce into the area where we were at a full tilt boogie, and I nearly got knocked into the bleachers. When I got up (once my head cleared and my ears stopped ringing), everyone started laughing raucously.
At first, I couldn't figure out why. Then I looked down. My pants were hanging around my ankles. Everyone got a nice view of my blue underwear. What made it worse was the people who were closest to me:saw that I was wearing Smurt underwear!
Well, you can imagine the ribbing I got. Kids at school have called me Smurf Boy ever since. They ask me questions like "How's Papa Smurf?" or "Thinking of going out with Smurfette? She's a real looker, y'know!" Or they talk in these really annoying, high pitched voices until I want to scream!!
As another example, Roman and I were fooling around with a Roman candle (sorry for the potential joke here, folks!) and Roman decided to put it between his legs. Well, let's just say his butt got rather warm ... not to mention sunburnt. I coulnd't believe how stupid he was ... or me, for he talked me into lighting it. I somehow felt responsible for his "injury".
HIs parents are still mad at me for that one. They wouldn't let me see him until only recently. I was grounded for over a month by my parents. They say that Roman is "detrimental to my psychological development". They are giving us one more chance, but they say if anything happens at camp this weekend, then that is it. Our friendship will be terminated, if they see to it.
Same goes with my parents. They have never liked Roman Cervantes. They say he is a walking magnet for trouble, and I am inclined to agree with him. How I managed to get sucked into becoming his friend is beyond me, but then again, I am rather dumb. I fall for just about anything. Always have, always will.
I don't know what will happen at camp, but one thing is for certain: I wouldn't be surprised if disaster was lurking in the shadows: a disaster with our names written on it.