Kickoff! (2 page)

It kept them from thinking about “Beat the Seventh Graders Day.”

Ronde could smell his mom's cooking as soon as they reached their corner.

“Mmmm . . . macaroni and cheese!” Tiki said, grinning.

Tiki and Ronde's mom was a great cook. She was lots of fun, too—even though she had to work long hours at the local Girl Scout council office, where she was a secretary. On top of it all, she could throw a mean football. But most important, Ronde and Tiki knew they could always count on her to be there for them.

Smelling their favorite dish, they stopped tossing the ball and flat-out raced the rest of the way home. They banged the screen door open so hard it sounded like an explosion.

“Whoa!” their mother yelled, so surprised that she dropped her spatula. “You boys need to slow down! You could scare somebody to death.”

“Sorry, Ma,” Tiki said.

“Sorry,” said Ronde, retrieving the spatula for her.

“Now please take off those muddy shoes and get cleaned up for dinner,” she said. “We're having mac and cheese.”

“Yes, ma'am!” said the boys, and raced each other to the bathroom sink, bumping, blocking, and laughing all the way.

•   •   •

After dinner, the boys cleared the table and helped their mom do the dishes. Only when everything was cleaned up did she hand each of them an envelope. “It's your program cards from school,” she said.

Ronde and Tiki had been waiting for this moment for weeks. They couldn't wait to see which classes they had—and most important, who was in each class with them.

“I've got math first period,” Tiki moaned. “At seven thirty in the morning!”

“What's wrong with that?” their mom asked.

“I'm not even awake that early, and everyone says that math in junior high is hard!”

“Well, you were bound to have
some
class first period,” their mom said, patting him on the shoulder. “It might as well be math.”

“Hey,” Ronde said, comparing his own program card to his brother's. “We don't have any classes together!”

“What?” Tiki gasped, looking for himself. “Not one single class? Hey, Ma, can we get these changed?”

“Yeah, we've gotta get things switched around!” Ronde agreed. “They must have made a mistake!”

Their mom folded her arms in front of her and frowned. “There's no mistake. You boys have got to learn how to get by on your own. All your lives you've been a pair, and that's a beautiful thing. But you're starting to
grow up now, and you've got to learn what it's going to be like when you're grown-ups.”

“Ma,” Ronde said, a choking feeling in his throat, “did you
ask
for it to be this way?”

Their mom's face softened. “I won't lie to you boys. Yes, I did ask that you be in separate classes. I want you to be close all your lives, but I think it's better if you start spending time on your own with other kids. Stand up for yourselves, and make new friends to go with the old.”

“Aw, Ma,” Ronde complained, “we've already got plenty of friends!”

“I know it—but I don't want them to think of you boys as half of something. Once you're out on your own a little, you'll see what I mean.”

“Can't we have just
one
class together?” Tiki begged.

“You can see each other every day at lunch,” she pointed out. “And of course, there are your after-school activities, like the football team. . . .”

That was true, Ronde thought. But it didn't make up for all the hours and hours he'd be sitting in school alone, without his brother.

He looked over at Tiki, and Tiki stared back at him.

True identical twins, at certain moments, they thought exactly the same things. This was one of those moments.

Only an hour ago, they'd been totally excited about going to Hidden Valley Junior High. Now, they both wished the day would never come.

AS SHE DID EVERY YEAR ON THE FIRST MORNING
of school, the twins' mom fixed each boy a special breakfast, including some of their all-time favorites. For Ronde, it was bacon and eggs with one pancake and OJ. For Tiki, three pancakes, ham, and a glass of milk. Their mom also made sure their book bags held everything the twins needed—pens, pencils, rulers, calculators, notebooks, and lunch money.

One thing was different this year, though—Ronde and Tiki could choose their own clothes. Mrs. Barber wanted to make sure that they were as different as could be, so the other kids—the ones they'd be meeting for the first time—could tell them apart. So they made sure they never matched.

When she hugged them and kissed them each on the cheek and sent them off to the bus, the hugs were extra tight, and there was an extra kiss or two for each boy, as if to say,
This is a big day for you both. Good luck.

As the boys rode off to school, they were unusually silent. Neither Tiki nor Ronde were big talkers anyway, but
today they were even quieter than usual. Instead of talking, each boy was deep in his own thoughts.

Tiki wondered what it would be like, being in class without his twin. He was used to new kids staring at them because they looked so alike. Would they still stare at him, now that he was alone?

And what would it be like having so many different teachers? Would they each give a ton of homework, not realizing that all the other teachers were doing the same thing?

Why did their mom have to insist that they not have even one single class together? Tiki was so upset about it, he felt like crying—but he couldn't let himself—no way. He didn't want anyone—least of all Ronde—knowing how he was feeling right then. Afraid.

Hidden Valley Junior High School was a boxy, gigantic building—much bigger than their elementary school. Tiki knew that was because kids from other elementaries went there, too. He wondered if he'd know
anybody
in his classes.

“Well, I guess this is it,” he said as they climbed the front steps and the early bell sounded. “See you at lunch?”

“I guess,” Ronde said. His voice sounded strange to Tiki—thicker than usual, somehow. Tiki wondered if Ronde was trying to hide his feelings too.

Probably, he figured. After all, they were identical twins, and that meant they often thought—and felt—the same way about things.

It was scary to think that maybe that would soon be ending too, now that they weren't going to be together all the time.

“Okay. Bye,” he said, giving Ronde a quick nod and going inside.

Tiki fished out his program card and checked it one more time. “Math—room 208,” he read. He found a staircase and started up to the second floor, lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

Wait—there was that kid Kevin, who was in his class way back in second grade! Tiki wondered whether he should wave, or say hello. He decided not to risk it—Kevin might not even remember him after all this time. He might think Tiki was weird for saying hi, considering they barely knew each other.

The rest of the way up the stairs, Tiki concentrated on the floor. So many feet! All those different kinds of shoes . . . Were his cool enough? He'd figured he couldn't go wrong with sneakers, but then, you never knew.

He bumped into the girl in front of him when she stopped at the door to the second floor. “Sorry,” he said, glancing up at her.

She clicked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and said, “Watch where you're going, stupid.”

Tiki felt like a complete idiot! Why did he have to bump into that girl? And why did she have to be so mean about it? Was everybody in this school going to be as mean as her?

He felt like running right back down the stairs and outside, back into the beautiful September morning. But he knew he couldn't.

He found room 208, and headed straight for the back of the classroom, where he zoned in on the last available empty seat. Tiki was determined to sit in the back of the class, where he could hide from the teacher's gaze whenever he didn't know the answer to a question. He usually knew—but just hated to be wrong.

But before he could reach the seat, another boy bumped him out of the way and plunked himself down in it!

Tiki turned around and checked out the rest of the seats. He quickly grabbed one in the third row—as far from the teacher's desk as he could get. Tiki promised himself that when this class was over, he'd run like the wind to get to his next classroom, so he'd have plenty of time to find a seat in the back row.

His math teacher, Mr. Vaughn, was incredibly boring. He spoke in a monotone, and never smiled.

And the math was
hard
! Whenever Mr. Vaughn talked about algebra, Tiki got so confused it felt like his eyes were crossing.

Pretty soon, Tiki found himself feeling sleepy. He wasn't used to getting up so early in the morning—he and Ronde had set their alarm for six thirty to get to school by seven thirty—and he hadn't slept well besides, what with all those nightmares about school. Tiki had to
keep stopping himself from nodding off, to avoid making a fool of himself.

Maybe it was the big breakfast Mom made us,
he thought. Big meals always had a way of making him sleepy. Or maybe it was just that Mr. Vaughn was
so boring!

Tiki couldn't wait for the bell to ring. When it finally did, he took off at full speed, running down the hallway and dodging the other kids in his way. He held his book bag like a football, and pretended he was the great Walter Payton, dodging defenders as he raced for the end zone.

“Hey! Watch it!” yelled one kid after Tiki passed him by, nearly knocking him into the wall.

“Slow down there!” called a teacher who was acting as hall monitor. Tiki did, but only for a minute.

He got to history class just in time to grab a seat in the back row, all the way in the corner. Then he took a minute to catch his breath as the other seats began to fill up.

The front rows were taken up by the brainy kids—most of them girls—who always raised their hands for every question. Tiki didn't care. It seemed to him that they were less interested in learning new things than they were in showing off what they already knew.

Tiki usually knew the right answers, no matter what the class. But he almost never raised his hand. He didn't want to risk being wrong. If you were wrong, everybody thought you were stupid. Even if they didn't laugh in class, they would behind your back.

History class wound up being not too bad—it was his favorite subject, after all, and the teacher was a nice lady, Ms. Walker, who didn't give them any homework because it was the first day of school. But Tiki could tell that once things got going, she'd be giving out plenty of work.

As soon as the bell rang, he did another magnificent job of open-field running to get to science class, and grabbed another prized seat in the back row. The class slowly filled with kids—hey, there was Adam! Tiki's mood started to brighten. He'd always liked science—and whoever the teacher was, he or she had to be better than Mr. Vaughn!

The late bell rang, and a second later, the teacher walked in. He had a beard that was starting to go gray, and a shock of dark hair on top of his head that went in all directions. “Hello, everyone,” he said. “My name is Sam Wheeler, but you can call me . . . Mr. Wheeler.”

The kids laughed, and Tiki started to relax. Mr. Wheeler had a sense of humor, and that could only be good.

“First, I want everyone to stand up,” Mr. Wheeler said. When the kids were all standing, he continued, “Okay, everyone in the two back rows, switch seats with the two front rows.”

A loud groan went up from all the kids in the rows he'd mentioned. “I've found that it's best to get the slackers up front right away,” said Mr. Wheeler. “That way, they
can't get away with sleeping through
class
! And you kids in the front, take a break, will you? I already know you know the answers.”

Whoa,
thought Tiki, as he shuffled miserably up to the front row.
This guy must be some kind of mind reader.

Mr. Wheeler started talking about the topics they'd be covering that year in Science. But the whole time he was talking, he kept scanning the class. He had the face of a hawk, or an eagle—yeah, that was it, Tiki thought. An eagle—that nose, those eyes . . . Mr. Wheeler could have been the school mascot!

His eyes drilled right into you. Tiki was terrified of those eyes—especially after Mr. Wheeler spotted Adam whispering to the kid next to him. Mr. Wheeler crumpled a piece of paper into a hard little ball, raised his right hand, and fired!

The paper ball hit Adam right between the shoulders. “Hey! Pay attention!” Mr. Wheeler said.

Adam turned around, his face beet red. The whole class laughed their heads off. It wasn't like anyone thought it was so funny, Tiki figured—they were just relieved it wasn't
them.

“I'm not here for my health,” said Mr. Wheeler, scanning the class again with those eagle eyes. “I'm here for
you
—so don't disrespect me.” Then he went back to teaching.

The day's lesson was about the planets of the solar system. Tiki had always dreamed of being an astronaut,
and normally, he would have been very interested. But for some reason—and in spite of his fear of Mr. Wheeler—Tiki soon found himself fighting the urge to sleep.

He checked his watch—it was only ten thirty, but he'd already been in school for three whole hours! More important, he'd been up since six thirty in the morning.

Waves of exhaustion washed over him, and he had to keep willing himself to keep his eyes open. He wondered if Ronde was going through the same thing. He wondered what football tryouts would be like that afternoon. He wondered . . .

Suddenly he felt something hard hit him on the head!