Dinner was always the same on Saturday night at pencey. steak. it was supposed to be a big deal because they gave you steak. but I'll bet the only reason they did that is because most of the guys parents came up on Sundays and when they asked their precious little boy what they had for dinner they would say 'steak'. it was nice though when we got out of the dinning room, there was about three inches of snow on the ground and it was still falling. it looked as pretty as hell. me, Ackley and a guy called Mal Brossard decided to go for a burger and see a lousy movie. but it took Ackley about 5 hours for him to get ready. while i was waiting i opened the window and packed a snowball with my hands. i didn't throw it at anything though. i started to throw it at a park across the street. but i changed my mind. the car looked so nice and white. then i started to throw it at a hydrant but that looked nice and white too. finally i didn't throw it at anything i just shut the window and packed the snowball even harder. i still had it with me when i went to get on the bus with Ackley and Brossard. the bus driver told me to throw it before i got on i said i wasn't going to chuck it at anyone, but he didn't believe me. no one ever believes you. we got back to pencey about 9 and i told Ackley that i had to write a composition for Stradlater and he had to clear the hell out. when he finally left i put on my red hunting hat, pajamas and bathrobe and started writing the composition. the thing is i couldn't think of a room or house to describe so i deiced to write about my brother allies baseball mitt. it was as descriptive as hell. it really was. what was so descriptive about it was that in green ink he had written poems all over it so he had something to read on the Field while no one was in bat. he's dead now. he got leukemia and died. you've had liked him. he was two years younger than me and about fifty times more intelligent. he wasn't just the most intelligent in our family he was the nicest to. he never got mad at anybody, which is strange because people with red hair are supposed to be frustrated easily but Allie never did. i was only thirteen, and they were going to have me psychoanalyzed and all because i broke all the windows in the garage with my fist for the hell of it. i don't blame them. i really don't.