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Gradually the crowd joined in, one by one, their cry of misery and relief growing in pitch and volume, until the bleachers were full of people on their feet screaming, chanting, and barking “Tongue! Tongue! Tongue!”

Lining up for third down, the Thunderhawks watched in amazement as the crowd went collectively insane.

Then Fudge noticed something. Something about Brett. He was reveling in the crowd's response! Feeding off it! Every “tongue” seemed to restore some part of his lost soul. So Fudge began yelling it, too. And soon enough the rest of the Quails picked up the chant.

Lucy's moment had arrived. She strode onto the field, moving quickly past the ref and the Thunderhawks, right to Brett. Then before anyone could stop her, she lifted off Brett's helmet and touched his cheek. That's when Kendra screamed, but by that point the crowd had caught on and was chanting with the power of a million suns: “TONGUE! TONGUE! TONGUE!”

Lucy put her hands behind Brett's head, leaned in, and kissed him.

With tongue.

Lots of tongue.

The crowd began cheering, stomping their feet, jumping up and down with excitement.

Lucy withdrew her tongue and walked backward off the field, staring at Brett the whole time. And Brett stared back, hormones churning like mad.

Then the ref blew his whistle.

The Quails lined up at the line of scrimmage. Brett surveyed the field, looking to the Thunderhawk goal line, then narrowed his eyes.

“Hut, hut, hike!”

Snap.

Handoff.

Fake to the fullback.

Quarterback sneak!

Fifty yards for a touchdown!

The game was over. Lucy was in Brett's arms holding the game ball. Kendra was destroyed.

 

By the time Archie finished telling me all this (complete with impersonations of everyone involved and a surprisingly athletic attempt to show me the plays), I was standing by the window in utter shock.

“Don't you see?” He was sort of winded, to tell the truth. “Now you have to get Kendra and Brett back together!”

My eyes widened. “How can I do that?”

“Oh, it's not so hard. Look, everyone hates Lucy,
everyone loves Kendra. Brett's not stupid, he's just blinded by lust. You just have to make him see that he's picked the wrong girl.”

Blinded by lust? “Archie, I can't even get to Brett. After the movie, he's pretty much sworn me off.”

Archie twinkled. No, really, I swear he did. His whole being took on a weird glow like he was suddenly plugged into an outlet or something. “I know where you can find him. And it'll solve both your problems at once.”

He was going too fast for me, as always.

“
Both
my problems?” I stammered.

Archie nodded. “Remember I told you that Brett's punishment for
The Bloodmaster
was getting extra tutoring?”

“Yeah?” I said.

Archie gave me a quick push.

“It's with Patrice.”

And he pointed out his bedroom window toward her house. There in the yard was Brett's bike.

I collapsed on Archie's bed.

“But Brett and Patrice hate each other.”

Archie shrugged. “Maybe that's part of Brett's punishment. Anyway, now you can go talk to him, and work it out with Patrice at the same time.”

“But I thought
you
were going to help me work it out with Patrice.”

Archie was on the floor plugging his computer back in. “I am helping you!” he said. “I already told you she's tutoring Brett!”

“How is that helpful?”

With a whir, the computer began to boot up. “Just go talk to Brett! You'll see!”

There was something else nagging at me. “Archie! If you want Kendra so badly, then why do you want her and Brett to get back together?”

“Oh, please!” Archie said. “I'm not threatened by Brett! I have my own plans!”

I was beginning to realize that, with Archie, you just had to trust whatever insane logic was going on in his head. He had a plan; he was going to see it through. Me? I had to make a quarterback see the light. And get my friendship with Patrice back.

Somehow.

I CUT
through Pam's backyard and came around the back of Patrice's house. Sure enough, there was Brett. He was sitting on a screened-in porch at a patio table with an old flowered tablecloth. Patrice was across from him, waiting patiently for him to give an answer.

“Is it twelve?” he said finally.

Brett looked up from a textbook. I swear he looked as out of place doing math as I would've looked playing quarterback.

“No,” Patrice said, and took a sip of tea. “Try again. But don't forget to define your variable, okay?”

Brett pushed the book away. “Easy for you to
say. I just can't do this.”

“You're just not concentrating,” Patrice said.

Of course he couldn't concentrate, I thought. He's trying to figure out whether he should be going out with the hottest girl in school or the second-hottest girl in school.

“Yo, what's he doing here?”

Busted! I guess I had been so stunned by the sight of Patrice and Brett together that I had just stood there gaping. Not that I had any great plan of what to say or do once I arrived, but it still would've been nice to have had a decent opening line.

“Hey, Brett. Hey, Patrice.”

Brett sighed heavily. Patrice scowled, but I could've sworn she blushed a little bit first. Anyway, with no one to stop me, I let myself through the screen door.

“So, Brain?” Brett said with a smile. “Did you come back from New York so you could tell me I'm an idiot too?”

Patrice pointed at the problem he was working on. “You're not an idiot, Brett, you're just not paying attention.”

“Well, I have a lot on my mind,” he said, and grabbed his football jacket. “Come to think of it, now that Brain's here, maybe I should beat it.” He smiled. “I have better things to do than hang out at a freak convention.”

My heart took a giant lurch nearly clear out of my chest. I had to act fast.

“Wait!” I said.

Brett faced me. “Yeah?”

I swallowed hard. A million thoughts were going through my head, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say. So I blurted out the first thing I could think of.

“Hey, I heard about you and Lucy. Congratulations.”

Brett took a step toward me. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I stammered. Was “congratulations” a bad word in Indiana? “Just that I hear you two are going out. That's great, right?”

I saw Patrice out of the corner of my eye. She looked sort of amused, like she was enjoying watching me fight for my life. In any case, Brett paused a minute, as if he were considering whether dating Lucy was really all that great or not.

“Yeah, it's great,” he said finally.

With that, he grabbed his textbook and pushed through the screen door.

“Brett, wait!” I called. It was time for some more quick thinking. “I need your advice!”

One foot in Patrice's backyard, he turned. “You need advice from me?” He smirked. “Last I heard,
you
were the Brain.”

“Maybe,” I said. I met his eyes. “But this is advice about a girl. And you know more about that than anyone.”

Finally Brett looked interested. After some wild improvising, I had stumbled onto the right tack.

“A girl, huh?” he asked. “Someone in New York?”

I glanced quickly at Patrice, who was pretending to be deeply engrossed in her algebra book.

“It doesn't matter who it is,” I said, looking back at Brett. “I made a mistake and I need to fix it.”

Something very sad crossed Brett's eyes. That's when I knew I really had him hooked—for the next minute or two anyway.

“What'd you do?” he asked.

I sat down at the table. Patrice kept her nose in the book, but I could tell she was listening.

“I made the wrong choice about something.” I paused. “I mean, I did something really stupid to this girl, and I'm afraid I've lost her.”

Leaning against the door frame, Brett drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, I know about that kind of thing.”

I shrugged. “So I've been trying to figure out what to do.”

I guess this was all getting to be a bit much for Patrice. Suddenly she was on her feet. “Tutoring's over,” she said. “I better get going.”

Brett smiled. “You can't—it's your house.”

Patrice's face dropped.

“Besides,” Brett said, “I have an idea! Maybe you can help the Brain with his problem!” He winked at me. “Come on, Patrice. Sit!”

What other choice did she have? Brett took his seat again, too.

“Look, Brain,” he said. “What would you say if
I
was the one who made the stupid mistake and lost my girl, and I was coming to
you
for advice?”

I thought Patrice snorted.

I sighed, maybe a little theatrically. This was actually the perfect opening. “Well, I'd say…if she's really important to you, then you should just…tell her.”

“Tell her?” Brett said. He thought that over for a moment. “Tell her what?”

Suddenly Patrice was looking straight at me. “Yeah, Evan. What should he say?”

It was the first time she had spoken to me since the movie. I had forgotten how soft she could look when she wasn't angry. I felt my face flush.

“Come on, Brain,” Brett said. “Time's a-wasting.”

I felt just like I had before I jumped into the quarry. No doubt about it: I was being challenged. So I gulped and dove in.

“Tell her that you haven't stopped thinking about her since it happened. And that you know you were wrong.”

Brett nodded. “Yeah, that's good.”

“Tell her that you made a decision under a lot of pressure,” I said. “Then say if you had it to do all over again, you would never have made that choice.”

“Never,” Brett echoed.

I didn't dare look at Patrice—not directly. But out of my peripheral vision, I could see her looking right at me. So I swallowed and kept going. “Tell her…tell her that you got scared. And people do dumb things sometimes when they're scared, but that's not an excuse. There is no excuse. There's only hoping that she'll forgive you. Because you're so sorry that you hurt her.”

I held my breath, ready to make a dash into the woods if things got too strange.

“This is good stuff,” Brett said with a nod. He was actually scribbling notes on the inside cover of his textbook. Then to my surprise, Patrice jumped in.

“That's not everything,” she said.

Brett raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Patrice nodded again. “Tell her that even though she did some things that made you really mad, you always knew how much she cared about you.”

“It's true,” Brett said with a nod. He jotted another note. “That's very true.”

But Patrice wasn't finished. “And tell her that the time you spent together was so great, and so much
fun, that it hurt even more when she stopped talking to you.”

I looked right at her but spoke to Brett. “Also let her know that you know it can't ever be the same. But maybe it can be even better if you two forgive each other.”

I could tell that Patrice was working up the nerve to look at me, but she just couldn't. So she addressed her next thought to the woods behind her house. “Tell her that you haven't been able to watch an old movie for weeks.”

Brett looked up, confused. “But Kendra and I don't watch old movies.”

“Just go with it, Brett!” Patrice said, hitting him on the shoulder.

Genuinely surprised, Brett said, “All right, I'm going with it! Old movies!”

I reached my hand across the table toward her. “Tell her you'd do anything for a second chance.”

Patrice looked down at my hand. Finally she looked up. Her eyes were full of tears. Then she placed her hand in mine.

That's when I heard a sniffle. Patrice and I both turned to see Brett wiping away tears of his own. When he noticed us looking, he jumped up from the table.

“Good stuff, Brain! See? You don't need my advice
at all! You can do it all yourself! Just tell her!” He bolted for the door. “I've gotta go find someone!”

Moments later, we heard the sound of his bike zooming down the driveway.

Patrice and I were alone. I looked down, surprised to see that our hands were still touching. I didn't move mine. She didn't move hers. Then Patrice smiled.

“You're such a jerk,” she said.

I smiled right on back. “You're a pain in the ass.”

She laughed. “I know.”

We looked at each other for a long time. Every once in a while one of us would laugh, or start crying, but we didn't stop looking.

Finally she pulled her hand away.

“So,” she said. “Now can I come to your stupid bar mitzvah?”

THE PHONE
rang in the kitchen. Pam got up from the couch and waddled in and picked it up. I tried to keep working on my speech, but an actual ringing phone was such a rare occurrence in that house that I couldn't help but be curious. Had to be
my dad calling to find out what I'd told Mom about the weekend in New York.

Except it wasn't.

Pam called for my mom, and when she picked up, I could tell from the tone of her voice that she couldn't be talking to Dad at all. Pam came back and sat next to me.

“Well, that's very thoughtful of you to ask,” Mom said. Her voice had that sugary sweet tone I had heard once when we ran into my old principal on Lexington Avenue. “You know, while it's a big party for everyone, it's also a religious ceremony, so I think the kids should dress modestly and respectfully.”

I was on my feet in a second flat. Who could she be talking to? It had to be about my bar mitzvah, but outside of Patrice, there were no kids coming!

“No, no, I'll make sure there are yarmulkes for the boys—you won't have to worry about that. Very sweet of you to ask.” A pause. “Bring? Oh, you don't have to bring anything. We'll just be thrilled that you and Malcolm are there.”

Malcolm?

As in Fudge?

The kid who had goaded me into jumping into a quarry, pushed me at gym, then given me a wedgie for the record books? No, Mom couldn't be talking to Fudge's mother—that made no sense. Was there some
other Malcolm I'd invited?

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Venter, looking very much forward to it!”

Venter was Fudge's last name! This had to be a prank. All the kids would pretend they were coming, then not show at the last minute.

Mom hung up. “Well!” she yelled out from the kitchen. “Isn't that lovely?”

My mouth was having trouble forming the word “What?” so I just looked at her hoping her next sentence would explain everything.

She didn't get a chance, because the doorbell rang. Simon barked and jumped up. Mom and I exchanged a glance like “Who's ringing the doorbell at nine o'clock on a Sunday night?” and Pam groaned and got off the couch to open the door.

I did not expect to hear “Whoa, those voodoo masks are wiggin' me out!”

I did not expect to hear “Hey, Miss Pam, is Evan around?”

I certainly did not expect that the people saying those things would be Brett and Kendra, who then walked into the house with their arms wrapped around each other's waists.

“The Brain!” shouted Brett as he saw me. I stood up and waved, utterly mystified as Simon slapped Brett's belly with his paws.

“All right, easy, buddy,” he said.

“Oh my god, Miss Pam,” Kendra said, staring in wonder at the naked statues, “this house is soooooo cool!”

I quickly gathered my composure. “Mom, this is Brett and Kendra.”

Mom shook their hands. “It's so nice of you both to drop by tonight.”

Pam raised an eyebrow. “Isn't it a little late on a school night for you to be out?”

Brett laughed. “It's cool—we just wanted to thank the Brain for helping us out.”

“What did I do?” I said, feeling more nervous than proud.

My mom grabbed Pam. “Let's go get some coffee in the kitchen,” she said, and pulled Pam out of the room. Simon collapsed on the rug.

“What did you do?” Kendra asked. She sat down on the couch, and Brett flopped down happily next to her. “Evan, you completely saved the day!”

“I did?”

“Dude,” Brett said, “you told me this afternoon that I had to own up to making a mistake and just ask for a second chance, and I did. I just went over to Kendra's house and I was like, ‘I'm sorry, please forgive me.'”

“And I didn't want to forgive him,” Kendra interrupted, “but look at that face!” With that, she cupped
his face in her hands and kissed him. I was glad they were happy, but I didn't really need to be watching it.

“I told her I would never have had the guts to talk to her if it weren't for you…”

“…And so I said we had to come over and thank you!”

Brett lifted his hand in the air. I high-fived him.

Kendra elbowed Brett. “And…”

Brett looked puzzled. “What?” Another elbow from Kendra. A look of recognition passed over Brett's face. “Oh, right! Dude! So we're all gonna come on Saturday!”

My eyebrows shot over my forehead. A smile immediately began in the center of my face and stretched out to the ends of my ears. I was so happy, it felt like my hair was dancing. “You're
all
coming?”

Kendra laughed. “All of us! Eddie, Fudge, everyone at school.”

“I already called them all and told them we're going,” Brett said.

So that explained the phone call from Fudge's mom.

“Wow, you guys,” I said, “this is great. I mean, I really didn't do anything.”

Brett nodded thoughtfully. “Nah, you did, Brain. You owned up to who you were. I saw you with Patrice. That was heavy.”

Kendra's eyes went wide. “Wait! That's so cute! Patrice needs a boyfriend
so bad
.”

“Well, we're not going out,” I protested.

“It won't be lllllllllllllong!” Brett yelled, sticking out his tongue and wagging it triumphantly.

I shook my head, but I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't occurred to me. I mean, I was practically thirteen. Maybe it was time to graduate to two lips. Anyway, just then Kendra glanced at the time on her phone.

“Brett, we gotta cruise,” she said. “See you tomorrow, Evan!”

I hadn't stopped smiling. To tell the truth, I thought I never would. “Yeah,” I said, “I'll see you all at school tomorrow!”

Brett opened the door, and he and Kendra walked out of the house and got on their bikes. Then I remembered one last thing I needed to do.

“Kendra, wait!”

I ran outside into the front yard. Simon waited at the front door.

“What's up, Brain?” Brett shouted across the lawn.

“I have to ask Kendra a quick favor,” I said. “Sort of in private?”

They looked at each other and shrugged, and Kendra got off her bike and walked up the lawn to meet me.

“What's up?” she said.

I looked at the house across the street. I could see the light was still on in Archie's room. I hoped he wasn't watching.

“Okay, listen,” I said quietly. “You remember Archie?”

“Archie? You mean the creepy crippled kid at the movie?”

I took a deep breath. “Look, Archie's not really creepy, he's just lonely. And maybe he's a little angry at the world because he's sick.”

Kendra wrinkled her brow. “What's he have, anyway?”

“Some muscular thing,” I said. I paused and took another quick glance up at his window. “I don't remember exactly what it's called, but I don't think he's gonna get better. And the one thing he wants more than anything in the world is…”

Now that I was so close, I had trouble spitting out the words.

“What?” Kendra said.

“To go on a date with you.”

Kendra's eyes went wide. Then she turned to Brett, as if to make sure he hadn't overheard. Only when she saw that he was busy playing a game on his phone did she look back at me.

“What do you mean, a date?”

She looked pretty skeptical. It was hard to blame her.

“I mean like you two could meet at Dairy Queen and he'd buy you an ice cream cone and he'd sit there and tell you about
The Lord of the Rings
or something, and all you'd have to do is nod and say yes, and it would make him the happiest kid in the whole world.”

“This sounds weird,” Kendra said.

I laughed. “It
is
weird, but it's true. He just wants to know that for one day in his life, you paid attention to him.”

“Evan…”

“Would you do that for me? Please? It's half an hour, and then it's all over.”

She looked at her nails. She looked at the stars, then back at Brett. “You did a really great thing for us, Evan…. Okay, I'll go on a ‘date' with Arnold.”

“Archie,” I corrected her.

“Ha, okay; Archie. I'll do it.”

“Thank you, Kendra! You're the best!”

“But don't tell anyone about it, okay?” she said as she walked back to her bike.

I walked with her. “I'll talk to you later this week and we'll figure out the details.”

Brett closed his phone. “All set?”

“All set,” Kendra said, smiling.

“See you tomorrow!” Brett yelled as they drove off.

I would like to tell you that I was dignified and calm, but at that moment I jumped up in the air and punched the sky and danced all around the front lawn in the glare of the one streetlight on our block. I wrestled Simon, kicked my feet up in the air, and sang a silent celebratory march.

I had done it! All the cool kids were coming to my bar mitzvah, AND I had fulfilled my promise to Archie, AND Patrice and I were friends again. I envisioned what my bar mitzvah was going to look like:

Kendra dancing.

Patrice hanging out with everyone and enjoying it.

Brett and the Goons lifting me up in a chair.

Bill and Steve calling from New York and not being able to get through because I'm having too much fun to pick up the phone.

Mom and Dad sitting together, laughing as they watch everyone having such a great time. Maybe he tentatively puts his hand on hers. Maybe she takes it. Maybe they kiss.

Angelina deciding that Pam is more her type and leaving my dad.

Rabbi Weiner shaking his booty to some Eminem.

Indiana may not be the best place in the world, but at that moment I knew I could survive it; no, I could
transcend it. In Indiana maybe I could be a man after all.

I wanted to run over to Archie and tell him what was going on, but just as I turned toward his house, I saw the light in his room go off.

Oh well, I thought. I'll tell him tomorrow.

“Come on, Simon,” I yelled.

I picked up a stick and threw it as far as I could. He went tearing after it, and we played fetch all the way over to Main Street and back.