No Girls Allowed (Dogs Okay) (13 page)

Bug spit with extra sprinkles! We are having a social studies quiz.

Cloey taps me on the back. She hands me a note. It's from Elliot.

Where were you?

I write:

Behind the orchestra portable. Where were you?

He writes back:

In the bathroom with Thor and some weird kid with blue hair.

Oops. I forgot to tell them where to meet me. Doyle usually handles that stuff.

I write:

Meet me behind the orchestra portable at first recess.

As I am folding the note, Miss Sweetandsour snatches it away. “You'll be staying in first recess, Scab.”

“I can't. I have to—”

“It's not a request.”

I get a C-minus on my quiz. Miss Sweetandsour asks for a helper to hand out the geography workbooks. I rush to the cabinets in the back of the room. I need mega teacher's-pet points today.

“Ouch!” I feel a sharp pain in my side.

It's Doyle's bony elbow. He tries to take the pile of workbooks from me.

I pull the books toward my chest. “I'm doing it. Back off.”

“You back off.” Doyle pulls back.

“I was here first.” I tug again.

“Teacher picked me.” He tugs again.

“Doyle Butt Boil.”

“Go pick yourself, Scab.”

I yank hard.

He yanks harder.

Haven't I done this before with a certain wiener dog?

“Hey, guys,” says Will. “Come on, don't fight.”

“Nobody's fighting,” I snarl. “Just tell him to let go.”

“Me?” snaps Doyle. “You let go.”

“You first.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

“You!”

“Okay.” I give him a smirk. Then I let go.

Doyle teeters on his heels. His arms go up. His rear goes down. Workbooks fly everywhere. Doyle's mouth forms a giant O a second before he crashes into the shelves. The bottom shelf pops loose. Backpacks, purses, lunches, and hats start tumbling out. Some slip down the shelf like they are riding a water slide. Everything lands on top of Doyle.

I laugh so hard my stomach nearly explodes. The whole class is laughing too.

Doyle's got a yellow mitten on his head. A zebra-print raincoat is attacking his chest. A brown blob wobbles on the front of his jeans. It looks like chocolate pudding. I sure hope that's what it is.

“Did you hear that?” says Doyle. He fights off the zebra raincoat.

I am still howling. I wonder if Will caught that on his camera phone.

Doyle rolls over. “Wuh-oh, Scab.”

I see my backpack. It's squashed flat. I stop laughing. Doyle and I exchange looks. He tries to get up but slips on a silver purse.

I reach for my backpack. But it's too late.

“Ewwwww!” cries Meggie Kornblum. “What's that smell? Miss Sweeten, something stinks back here.”

Cloey Zittle points at me. “It's Scab.”

I put up my hands. The backpack hits the floor. “It's not me.”

“Scab cut an atomic fart!” announces Lewis.

“That's powerful thunder!” shouts Henry. “My eyes are stinging.”

Mine, too. There's a lump in my throat. I start to cough. Kids are leaping out of their seats. Some are running toward me. Most are running away.

Miss Sweetandsour is at the intercom. “This is
room 242. Uh . . . we have a situation here. Some sort of powerful odor. . . . Yes, yes. . . . Clear the building.”

“I can't breathe,” yells somebody.

“I can't see,” calls someone else.

The fire alarm goes off.

“We're going outside,” Miss Sweetandsour calls above the shriek of the siren. “Remember how we practiced? Move quickly. Stay calm, students.”

Nobody is listening. Nobody is staying calm. Books and pencils fall off desks. Feet tromp down the aisles. Kids are crying and choking and screaming.

“Somebody get my lunch!”

“Somebody get the hamster!”

“Miss Sweeten, Lewis is turning green!”

“Let's go. . . . Everyone out. . . . Single file,” yells our teacher, waving. “Quickly. Quickly.”

I can't move. My feet won't go!

Something latches on to my wrist. Through burning eyes I see Doyle's face. He hasn't forgotten me. I should have known he wouldn't. We're the Daredevil Boys. No matter what, we are a team. Isabelle is right. We fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Follow me, Scab!” shouts Doyle.

“Where's Will?”

“He's already out. Let's go.”

“We're going to die,” Cloey screeches in my ear. “Scab's fart is going to kill us all!”