My high school was a lot like Beverly Hills 90210, except there were very few rich and/or white students. Still, there were plenty of hijinks (most involved casual violence and drugs, though). I still fondly recall when we'd get a full period to go hang out in the baseball field when some incorrigible scamp called in a bomb scare (I know what you're thinking and it was not me. I was an angel compared to most kids in my school). Pre-Columbine, a bomb scare was less terrifying than it was annoying.
One time we had to spend more than a period out on the baseball field because someone decided to go the extra mile and actually plant a real bomb before they called in the threat. So, 1200 students were baking in the late spring's heat all afternoon. There were only 6 security guards and 50 teachers to keep us settled. The kids started to get restless, lighting cigarettes, throwing things at each other, chanting, "Let us go home."
The principal got on her bullhorn and announced "We know we can't physically hold you all, but we're watching you and if we see you leave, we'll write you up and suspend you." The crowd became dejected because there was no way the entire school would storm the gates and leave (mostly because nerds like me were too afraid).
Then some genius 14 year old freshman realized how to get around this dilemma: he put his shirt over his head so no one would recognize him as he ran off the field, through the bushes, and into the street. The entire school cheered for him as he pumped his little legs and the principal shouted, "Get back here, whoever you are," on her bullhorn.
My friend, Ron, was blown away by this kid's bravado and brilliance. Ron was one of the most trouble making seniors in our school and saw a little of himself in this pint-sized Patrick Henry. "That kid is great! I'm going to buy him a lunch."
Then a few minutes later, the now famous freshman was escorted back onto the baseball field by a police officer. Everyone booed and soon the story began spreading through the crowd like wildfire. Once the kid escaped the baseball field, he realized he lived 4 miles from the school, so he went to a bus stop where the police promptly found him, gave him a truancy violation, and then returned him to school.
So this poor freshman, in the space of an hour, had received the entire school's open adulation, then their collective disgust, a truancy violation, and a suspension from the principal. To top it all off, a heavily muscled Mexican-American senior named Ron, who the freshman had never met before in his life, immediately got in the freshman's face, poked him in the chest and shouted, "Fuck you, man! I was going to buy you a lunch!"
