Not in school as such...
...but he did attend my fabulous secondary. On the way home one day, him and his "gang" decided to set about me for no reason other than I was a rocker/grunger in the middle of a council estate inhabited solely by gangstaas. 6 of them and one of me. Come on, I had no chance. I punched one in the throat, worked another's ribs, floored one with the fabled Palm Heel Strike (I know karate :D) and somehow managed to kick one in the face with the mighty Jumping Front Kick. I, however, got my head stamped on, my finger fractured* (can't work out whether it was from me hitting him or t'other way around) and my kidneys had a sound kicking. On top of the everyday punch in the face etc. etc. etc.
It was a draw, technically, though I won on points for refusing to run away.
For months afterwards, I'd been taunted non-stop and my mum had stick along the lines of "your son got aired" or some bullshit like that. Funnily enough, my dad got none of that. Might be something to do with him being a 6 foot tall, 3 foot wide slab of pure anger with concrete fists. But I digress.
2 of the gang see me on the rather deserted street one day and mouth off. I'm having non of this and one steel-capped boot to the dangleberries later he's a quivering ball of screaming ex-manliness and his mate's legged it.
It was fun walking past him in school the next day. He could only hobble.

I'd love to say they never went for me again. But one did, ended with the munter running away. The local beat bobby came around the corner, he legged it and I got congratulated on my supoib volley of punches to the jaw area. Although my face got a bit of a pasting.

*And I had a piano exam the day after I got the fractured finger for my Music GCSE. Didn't stop me getting an A
(Gat Bandish I've got wood in my soul, Sat 11 Mar 2006, 16:02, Reply)