It was April, and raining. Spring was doing its best to push up and out. Amy, a middle schooler, was doing her best to sit down in the cafeteria. Probably with Albert or Bobby, both of whom she didn’t know very well and were kind of cute.  Today, they were sitting at the same table, engaged in impolite conversation.
     Albert was tall, thin, and took every opportunity to make everyone else think him superior, even if, especially if, it involved putting another person down.  His worst insult was never even spoken: he implied the unintelligence of his victim by using insults that had a very obvious response.  Failure to notice the response would degrade someone’s social status greatly.  Unfortunately for them, most people believed his claims to superiority, and consequently the social hierarchy in the school was built around him.
     Bobby was not often seen, due to being in corners much of the time.  He was short, scrawny, quite smart, and acutely aware of the surrounding social scene but disconnected from it due to often responding incorrectly to Albert.  The apparent lifelong goal of Bobby was to undermine Albert’s authority, and until that happened, to prepare new kids to resist Albert’s social dominance along with or independently of him.
     Amy was one such new kid, trying to do what new kids everywhere do, which is probe and integrate into the social structure.  As she would soon find out, this would be harder than she expected.  As she approached the table, Albert was just getting into stride.
     “Even your eyes are weak: you have to wear glasses!” said Albert to Bobby, who couldn’t think of an answer, even though Albert wore glasses too. “You can’t even get a decent grade if you tried, whereas I haven’t failed yet!” This was entirely false. “And look at this!” He picked up Bobby’s arm. “Can you lift this? No, you can’t.”
     “So I’m smarter and stronger than you! And I have more friends than you!” Everybody (including Albert) knew that he didn’t have any friends, only fearful followers, but he didn’t stop.
     Bobby answered, in a rare moment of inspiration, “If you weren't so mean, you might have some real friends.” “Ooh, burn,” said another kid nearby. Albert kicked Bobby under the table in reply, and continued on a different route as if he had not heard, saying, “So, what strengths do you have? Well, there's your strong smell...”
     Albert, Amy noticed, was right about Bobby.  He had missed two very obvious opportunities to verbally defend himself, either of which would have incapacitated Albert, but seemed afraid to do so.  Bobby was also right about Albert: he was a meanie.  One would think that, being a smart person, Albert would see the advantages of being nice, but apparently not.  The kid who always sat at the far end of the cafeteria eating pickled herring was starting to seem more appealing.
     “Hi, guys,” said Amy as if nothing had happened. Albert and Bobby looked up at her.
     “Oh,” said Albert, “Welcome to our school.”
     “Welcome to our quagmire,” said Bobby bitterly.  She walked past.