Mark Raterman always got into trouble in high school. I mean every time. From sophomore to senior year whenever there was a chance that the bastions of authority (whether they be cops, parents, or fascist school administrators) would swoop down on scenes of teenage wasteland, Mark would get busted. So he would be carted away (sometimes in a police car) shaking his head and wondering "why me?"
It isn't like he was worse than anyone, or doing these things alone. Quite the contrary. He was always with his friends, myself included, doing the exact same things. However I never got into trouble and maybe others would get caught from time to time, but no one had Mark's record. He was like the USC of 17 year-olds getting yelled at.
Consider this: it is common around America for high schoolers to partake in parties where drinking and doing drugs occur, usually at someone's house whose parents are out of town, but no matter how big the party was, or how inconspicuous Mark was, he was the one who was made an example of. I mean it was really incredible. Here we all were, enjoying ourselves, and Mark would get caught much to his mother's chagrin, chastising him telling him to "be more like your friend Derek!!". Now I was far from an angel. I was right there beside him. But like the saying goes, it isn't a crime if you don't get caught, and in that vein I was a choir boy.
This would be a classic account:
Random house party circa 1994:Generic high school party; drinking Beast Blue, someone brought a bag of shitty weed, seniors hitting on sophomores, listening to Cypress Hill, Pearl Jam and Hendrix. Party was going along fine until the cops showed up. Most people ran away, escaped out the back. I and a friend grabbed a 12-pack and ran out the back too, across the golf course. Mark however was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Right by the front door when the cops came in. Now there had to be at least 80-100 people at this party. Most everyone was drunk, some had drugs on them. Did the cops care? Nope, they nabbed Mark who wasn't any drunker than the rest of us, and had no drugs or weapons. He was the only person busted, driven back home in the back of a police car. I found out later in the night, and just slowly shook my head.
The culmination occurred senior year when after school about four of us got obliterated on shitty beer. It was a Friday night so for some reason we decided to go to the football game. Now my friends and I never went to football games; fate was lining up to get Mark into trouble. We get to the game and didn't want to pay the $3.00 admission, so we decided to hop the fence. Now Mark was the first person to make it to the fence, by a stroke of luck I was stopped by some girls we knew who I was talking to. Mark made it over, and of course was spotted by school officials. And of course they smelled beer on him. He was in taken into the school, breathalyzer, suspension, natch. I was scot free; if I was 5 seconds ahead I would've been caught just the same. Poor, poor Mark.
He was always in the wrong place, and the wrong time. Or everyone else was in the right place, at the right time whichever you prefer. No matter what the situation was, where we were, what we were doing, who we were with, there was a high probability that IF we got busted, Mark would be the one thrown to the wolves.
I should update that in the 10 or so years since, Mark has been a stellar citizen contributing to society. In college he didn't end up in jail. Traveling around the world after college he didn't end up on a wanted poster for Interpol. And now living in Chicago, from what I can tell, there haven't been any serious infractions.
Whatever hex Mark had over himself in high school, appears to have been limited to that time. And we are all much happier.
And so it goes. But if anyone asked me to remember something about high school, it was that Mark always got into trouble.