Meet the Gecko (9 page)

“That's okay,” I said, trying to get up. I keep my backpack so loaded with things that it gets pretty heavy. And right now I was like a turtle stuck on its back.

She put out a hand to help me, and I almost didn't take it.

Superheroes don't need help from girls!

But she grabbed my arm and yanked, then asked, “Did you really meet The Gecko?”

Uh-oh.

“Where'd you… where'd you hear that?” I asked.

“Kevin and Max are going around telling every-one. They're saying Bubba saw you on the set. With a special visitor's badge and everything.” She was still holding on to my arm, even though I was back on my feet. “Is it true?”

“Uh… well… um… maybe.”

“Maybe?
How can it
maybe
be true?”

My circuits were overloaded. I couldn't think of what to say! What to do! I looked over both shoulders like crazy. “I… uh… I was just there with my dad.”

“Because he's a reporter, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That's great! Tell me all about it!”

I wished she would just leave me alone. “Have you seen Bubba?”

“We're supposed to call him Alvin, remember?”

“Yeah, if you like getting pounded!”

“Nolan!” she said with a scowl. “I call him Alvin all the time. Do I look pounded?”

She did? Why hadn't I ever heard her do that? “No…,” I said. “But you're a, you know,
girl.”

She punched me in the arm. “So what?”

“Hey!” Boy, for a girl who spent her life drawing ponies, she sure punched hard!

“And yeah, I saw him,” she added. “Down by the swings. Now tell me about being on the set!”

The warning bell rang, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. The substitute would unlock the room in no time! Safety was a power-walk away!

Trinity followed me as I zoomed along the walkway. “Why don't you want to talk about it?” she asked. “Did something happen? Did you trip or fall or something? Did they kick you off the set?”

My head whipped around to face her. “No, I didn't trip! And stop making fun of me!”

“I'm not making fun of you,” she said. “I'm just, you know, wondering.”

“Well,
I'm
not the one who got kicked off the set,” I snapped.

She raced along beside me. “But… you're saying… you're saying someone
did
?”

All of a sudden, there was Bubba. Looming large and deadly across the blacktop. He was looking at me, too. And coming my way!

This was it, I could tell. In a few seconds, I'd be nothing but nerd nuggets.

But then the strangest thing happened.

Bubba turned.

No push.

No punch.

No threat.

No
breath.

He just went into the classroom.

“Wow,” Trinity whispered. “He looks really different.”

He still looked plenty mean to me.

And totally deadly.

But she was right. Something was different. I tried to figure out what. It wasn't his clothes or his hair or his—

“He looks.
.depressed”
she said.

It was the weirdest thing since quantum dots, but yes, that was it exactly.

We waited a minute before going up the ramp into the classroom. Neither of us could quite believe it.

Bubba Bixby depressed?

Inside the classroom, the air felt totally dead. Like the room was in a vacuum. Eyes were shifting around uneasily, but no one was talking. Even Miss Newby seemed to understand that something strange was going on. She just stood behind the teacher desk, looking at all of us looking at each other.

“Good morning, class,” she finally said.

“Good morning,” a few of us mumbled.

Then she did something only a substitute would be crazy enough to do. She asked, “Is everything all right, Alvin?”

His face was leaning on one beefy hand. He shrugged. And scowled.

He looked like a monster with a toothache.

“Alvin?” she asked again.

“What!” he snapped at her.

She jerked back a little, then took a deep breath and said, “Would you like to—”

“What? Go to the office?” He was looking a lot like that grizzly bear at the Historian.

“No!” he growled. “Just leave me alone.”

“But if you—”

“I said no!”

Everyone held their breath, including Miss Newby. Then very slowly, Bubba looked over his shoulder, right at me. “Why don't you kick
him
out?” he grumbled.

All heads in class turned until everyone was staring at me. I shrank lower in my seat. I wanted to hide! And Miss Newby was about to ask
me
something, but Trinity stood up like she was giving an oral report and said, “Alvin's upset because Nolan got to meet The Gecko.”

“The… Gecko?” Miss Newby asked.

“Shut up, Pony-girl!” Bubba snapped.

“Alvin!” Miss Newby scolded.

“Well, it's none of her stupid business!” Bubba shouted.

Miss Newby said, “Please, Alvin. Control your-self!”

Uh-triple-oh! If you know anything about Bubba Bixby, you know that that was the complete wrong thing to say to him. And sure enough, he stood up, threw his chair over, and stomped out of the room.

But not before giving me the deadliest glare I'd ever seen.

Miss Newby picked up the classroom phone and called the office. And after whispering like mad for a minute, she hung up, straightened Bubba's chair, and tried to smile. “Well, class. It seems we're off to a bumpy start this morning.” Then she just stood there with a twitchy smile, trying to figure out what she should do next.

Trinity whispered, “Wow. He looked like he was about to cry!”

“Cry?” I said. “He looked like he was about to
kill
me!”

“Yeah, but I'm talking about underneath all that.” She turned to Freddy, next to her. “Didn't
you think he looked like he was going to cry?”

Freddy scowled at her. “Bubba?
Cry?
You're psycho, Pony-girl.”

She punched him in the arm. “Don't call me psycho
or
Pony-girl, Pee-boy!”

He turned beet red and shut up.

It felt like none of us would survive the day.

Miss Newby finally gave us a reading assignment. “Take out your social studies book. Read pages one-forty-two through one-fifty-two. When you're done, answer questions one through eleven on page one-fifty-three.”

We all pulled our books out and started reading.

It had never been so quiet in Room 22.

Social studies is not my favorite subject to begin with. It usually feels like I'm feeding my brain saw-dust. So somewhere in the middle of reading about the people of Brazil, I started daydreaming. For once I wasn't daydreaming about an invention or playing on my computer. Or being Shred-derman. Or watching
The Gecko and Sticky.

I was thinking about Bubba.

And about Bubba's dad. I've seen Mr. Bixby in action, and boy! He's just like Bubba, only bigger.

And meaner.

I was also thinking about my dad. My totally great dad, who calls me champ, and helps me be Shredderman, and took me to meet The Gecko.

How could two dads be so different?

How could two kids be so different?

What if I had to live with Bubba's dad? Would I get meaner?

What if Bubba got to live with my dad? Would he get nicer?

Was
that
the key to making Bubba nicer?

Was there even a key? Or was Bubba always going to be the same?

I think the rest of the kids in class were day-dreaming, too, because everybody jumped when Dr. Voss walked in the room.

Dr. Voss is our principal, and her walking in a
room can make you jump all by itself, but now she wasn't alone. She had Bubba with her.

Everybody pretended to be reading, but eyes were shifting around like crazy!

Bubba didn't look at anything but the ground, and went straight to his seat while Dr. Voss and Miss Newby stood off to one side and whispered.

And even though Bubba didn't look at anyone, everyone in class noticed—Bubba's eyes were red and puffy.

All the kids in class twitched their faces and mouths. They were spreading the word without saying a word.

Bubba Bixby had been crying!

Crying.

For the rest of school, no one knew what to do. Or say. Even Kevin and Max steered clear of him. And although Bubba was quieter than he'd ever been, something about him looked extra angry.

Extra dangerous.

So, believe me, I was shaking in my shoes! But at recess, nothing happened. And at lunch, instead of stalking kids like a tower of terror, Bubba sat by himself on the lower field, throwing pebbles at the grass.

All kinds of kids asked me about meeting The Gecko, and normally talking about it would have been great. But I didn't want to talk about it. It felt like showing off your Christmas presents when the guy next to you only got a lump of coal.

Even if the guy next to you
deserved
a lump of coal, it still felt… wrong.

Besides, a lot of kids were telling me I was his-tory. Toast. Nothing but walking worm food.

And I had the feeling that they were right. Bubba hated me so bad now, he was probably planning something even wickeder than usual. My stomach was in knots! My throat choked off! I couldn't even remember my times tables!

Then during math, I got the world's craziest
idea. I actually dropped my pencil, it was that crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. The more I wanted to do it.

It would either change things, or get me killed.

I just had to get up enough nerve to find out which.

When school let out, I followed Bubba to the bike racks.

My heart was beating like crazy!

I got on the other side of the racks, looked right at him, and said, “I can take you to meet The Gecko.”

He stopped pulling his bike back. “What?”

I cleared my throat. “I said, I can take you to meet The Gecko.”

He squinted at me, then snorted and yanked his bike the rest of the way out of the rack. “Quit pulling my chain, Nerd.”

I followed him as he headed for the street. “I'm
serious. He said I could come back today. I'll take you with me.”

Bubba stopped and looked at me like I ate flies. Finally he said,
“Why?”

I shrugged. “Because… I'd like to?”

“Shut up, Nerd. You expect me to believe that?”

“I'm serious! I'll go get my bike. We can ride over to Old Town together.”

He just stared at me.

“Wait here,” I told him. “I'll be right back!”

I tore home, told Mom where I was going, jumped on my bike, and raced back to school.

Bubba was still there.

“Come on!” I shouted as I coasted past him. “Let's go!”

Bubba Bixby may be big and mean, full of teeth and ready to bite, but he's not very fast on a bike. I had to stop and wait for him at least three times!