So this is college...Moody Towers

What a way to start a new experience. I have left behind the halls of the public schools of Pearland and have landed in the hot halls of Mount Carmel in South Houston. The halls are hot since the 40 year old school has no central air conditioning. How did people learn in an environment like this in 1956 when the doors opened? It is 1992 now and there is no air conditioning and the place smells like my grandmas basement.
The floors are a solid granite style tyle that collects dust in the corners. There is a marvelous wood floor in the gym that has the finishes of years and years of polyurethane. Home of the Running rebels. I came limping into this school with my leg broke and my pride reestablished.
Gone are the days of that Mexican bully that I had to deal with and born are the days of a rebirth of sorts. This school was giving me a second chance as it gave so many people a second chance.
Mr. May was the first teacher to introduce himself. He was a proud individual. He was a former captain in the army they say. He was also the disciplinarian of the school. Many a Friday afternoon would be spent painting and cleaning the school under his direct orders.
Duke was the first student to introduce himself to me. He came up during physical education and took my crutches. He was an odd fellow that had a small head. I compare heads due my large cranium that sits atop my neck. I was 150 pounds wet my freshman year and 30 pounds of that was my large head. I had always been a fat kid that got little respect, but here things would be different.
The first week was hot. Hotter than hell. My mother worked at the school and I still had the joy of following in my sisters footsteps as she had graduated just months before. She was the valedictorian of the class of 1992. It would not be in my aim to follow her in those footsteps, as I was a lazy student. But I would socially eclipse her and would make my own mark. A mark that would be hard for others to follow.
I had moved around so much as a youngster that the new school thing was commonplace to me. The next 4 years would be the only time in my life that I stayed put. I had to make my mark. I ran for class president and in a landslide I beat some losing chick. I remember she wanted it badly. And she wanted to actually work at it. I wanted the title and I got it off a smooth speech and help from some friends. Ron Mexico actually helped rig it with the help of Duke. Lifelong friendships were made that week.
Ron Mexico and Duke would play major roles in my life as time went on. I owe both of them so much for me becoming what I am today.
Duke came from a family in Manvel. He had an older brother, TUBS, and a younger brother, Chuck Woast. Chuck Woast would grow to become a giant of a man with ‘Chuck Woast’ tattooed on his ass. TUBS would become a great friend over time but was a total dick in high school. The Navy changed him and so did some girl that crushed him. But that is another time and place.
Their father was a Houston Police officer and a power lifting champion. He was a stern man that now is a humble shell of his former self.
Ron Mexico grew up in Friendswood. You will find that at a Catholic school people come from all walks of life and from all corners of the Houston area. His parents were awfully wealthy. Yet Ron Mexico never flaunted it or showed off. He is still that way and for that I have a great respect for him.
The first few weeks of school were different. I had become accustomed to a junior high of 1000 students. There were now 200 at my high school. Everyone knew me as Mrs. Blake’s kid. And that did help with quite a bit. I did not know yet but my life was going to change within the next week or so when my first high school girlfriend, A little Mexican Chick, asked me out…