Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie (9 page)

O
ur homeroom teachers passed out the paper Tuesday morning. As soon as I flipped it open, I discovered Mouth had a book review on page 2 of
Revenge of the Mutant Zombies
, a Bucky Wingerton Adventure. He gave it five stars. I almost tossed out the paper when I saw that. Bucky Wingerton books are this cheap series. They churn out a book or two each month. I read one last year, just out of curiosity. It was awful. I doubt there’s even a real author. I’d bet they put the books together with some sort of kit. Or a computer program. At least nobody was going to pay any attention to Mouth’s review.

My article was on the next-to-last page. I read the whole thing. Which was kind of stupid, I guess, since I was the one who wrote it. But it felt different reading it in the paper. Julia’s guest column was in the middle. She’d written about how high school was a great place to make new and interesting friends. She didn’t mention anything about long-lost kindergarten pals.

Mr. Franka nodded at me when I walked into English and said, “Good job.” Nobody else mentioned my article in any of my classes. I guess mainly because almost nobody knew who I was. I saw Kyle pick the paper up in study hall to look at the
cartoons. I wanted to show him my article, but I felt weird about pointing it out. That would be like bragging.

Patrick had the paper with him at lunch. “Not bad,” he said when I sat down.

“Thanks.” I waited for him to say more, but I guess literary criticism wasn’t Patrick’s favorite subject. Unfortunately, I quickly discovered someone else who’d read it. Vernon Dross. The varsity quarterback. His loud complaints rumbled at us from the jock table.

“This football stuff sucks,” he shouted, tossing down the paper. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Great. My writing was getting ripped apart by a guy who moves his lips when he reads a stop sign.

Vernon turned to the kid next to him. “How come he didn’t mention my name?”

The kid shrugged, which isn’t the best gesture for someone to make when he doesn’t have a neck. From behind, it looked like his head was being swallowed by his shoulders.

“I’m the quarterback,” Vernon said. “He’s supposed to write about me.” He jabbed a finger at the paper. “Anybody know this idiot?”

I felt my whole body trying to vanish in a shrug.

They all shook their heads, doing a great imitation of an earthquake at a bobble-head convention. At least my lunch wouldn’t be interrupted—or my anatomy rearranged—by an angry quarterback. The team didn’t know me, and I wasn’t going to do anything to change that.

I brought the paper home, but didn’t show it to Mom and
Dad. I was worried that the whole thing with the Tom Swifties was sort of stupid. I’d wait to show them my next article. Bobby was on his way out to work. He’d pulled the four-to-midnight shift at the diner. So I didn’t show the article to him, either.

Mom was planning to cook lasagna for dinner, but she got this wild craving for tacos, so Dad and I made a food run.

“School going okay?” he asked as we left the house.

“Yeah. Just fine. How’s work?”

“Fine.” I looked out the side window for a while, watching the curbs and phone poles fly past.

“This is what your mom does best,” Dad said.

“What? Gets cravings?”

“No. Being a mom. She’s just so good at it. You should see her with babies.”

“I’m pretty sure I will.”

“Oh yeah. Right. But it’s like she has a magic touch. Babies just melt in her hands.”

“We should be so lucky.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. What about you? How are you with babies?”

“I managed not to drop either of you.”

“Thanks.”

The team got clobbered again. I paid special attention to Vernon, which was like being forced to watch a very bad movie. I needed to mention him a lot in my next story. It wouldn’t be easy. He was one of the main reasons the team stank.

At the end of the first quarter, Kyle said, “This really rots.”

I glanced over at Patrick. “You aren’t even going to make it to halftime, are you?”

He shrugged. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “No reason all three of us should be miserable.”

They split. I wished I’d left early, too. Especially when I saw Julia and Kelly walk over to the players’ bench and hang out there after the game. Julia spent a lot of time talking with Vernon. I never would have guessed he could hold a conversation. It killed me to see her hovering near him. She was so wonderful and smart. Maybe she was studying him for a science project or something. I sure hoped this wasn’t her idea of making new and interesting friends.

When I got home, I went right to work. I didn’t want to do more Tom Swifties. That would get old pretty fast. As I
thought about the writing I’d been doing recently, I got an idea. Amazingly enough, the second article rolled out as easily as the first.

Once again, I figured I’d sleep late. Obviously, I was slow to learn new lessons. This time, it wasn’t thumping that woke me. It was the gentle whisper of a power sander.

Mom, dressed in coveralls with a mask over her nose and mouth, was repainting the spare room. Or the nursery. Or whatever the heck it was going to be.

“What do you think?” Dad asked when I peeked in from the hall. He patted a stack of decals—ducks, bunnies, squirrels, and other lovable critters. But at least, from what I could see, there wouldn’t be any Pooh on the wall. At least not yet.

I stared at the plastic wildlife for a moment. “It’s nice,” I lied. As I left the room, I had a sudden urge to call Uncle Jack and ask him to take me hunting.

Sunday morning, I heard a crash from downstairs. I figured it was some new remodeling project. Maybe they were installing an indoor wading pool for toddlers.

“Relax. Everything’s okay.”

It was Mom’s voice. She didn’t sound okay.

I went down. The coatrack was knocked over. Mom and Dad were hurrying for the garage, jackets in hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mom said. But her face was really pale.

Dad looked like he’d thrown on his clothes real fast. “I’ll call and let you know what’s going on,” he said.

A moment later, they were flying down the street in the Subaru.

Oh man. I went up to Bobby’s room and knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, so I went in. “Wake up,” I said.

He pulled the pillow over his head.

“Come on. Get up.” I pushed him on the shoulder.

“Go ‘way.” He reached out and shoved me.

“Knock it off! This is serious.”

“What?” The muffled voice came from under the pillow.

I told him about Mom. When I was done, he sat up, shook his head, and said, “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“You think she’ll be okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He reached out and ruffled my hair. It felt weird. Like when you see a cat owner petting a dog.

I went downstairs and straightened up the coatrack, then waited by the phone. I figured Bobby would come down so we could talk. But he didn’t. After a while, when I wandered back upstairs, I saw him stuffing clothes in a duffel bag.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t stand this place right now.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I don’t need all this stress. I’ve got too much stuff to deal with already.” He zipped up the bag, then put his guitar in its case. “Got any money?”

“Some.”

“Can I borrow it?”

The last thing I wanted was to help him leave. But I figured he’d go no matter what. So I gave him what I had, and he took off for the bus station.

About forty minutes later, Dad called.

“Everything’s fine,” he said.

“Mom’s okay?”

“Yeah. We saw the doctor. We’ll be home in a little bit.”

“Good.”

“How you doing?”

“I’m all right.”

I didn’t tell him anything else. He’d find out soon enough. I still couldn’t believe Bobby had split. He was acting like he was the one whose life was being turned upside down by this. But he was already almost grown up and all. I was the one who had to deal with everything.

t
rick or treat.

It was only the beginning of October, but when the new girl walked into homeroom, I thought she was made up for Halloween. She’d chopped her hair short and dyed it green. I guess she did it herself. I can’t imagine paying anyone for a haircut like that. And she’d stuck pins in her face. Not just earrings or nose rings, though she had plenty of those. She also had studs and barbells and other stuff I don’t even know the names of. There was a safety pin jammed through her left eyebrow, and another under her lip. It was kind of freaky.

When she came through the door, it got so quiet you could hear a safety pin drop. I tried not to stare at her. Okay—that’s not true. I tried not to let her catch me staring. But I couldn’t help myself. I mean, safety pins? There were some kids in school who looked kind of like that, but nobody anywhere near as extreme.

She was wearing a black T-shirt for some band I’d never heard of. It showed a girl crying blood. The girl was clutching a headless teddy bear. Naturally, the bear’s neck was also pretty moist. We’d definitely moved far beyond Pooh. This
bear more likely had a name like Gush or Spew. My homeroom teacher stared at the shirt for a moment, but finally shrugged and looked away.

At lunchtime, I watched the new girl walk into the cafeteria. I would have bet anything she’d head over to the punks, or go to the darkest corner, where the goth batlings sat. Instead, she walked straight to the table by the center window where the popular girls held court. She plunked down, opened up a lunch bag, and started to eat a sandwich. From what I could see, she didn’t pay any attention to the evil stares.

As fascinating as all of this was, I had something far more important on my mind. Survival. The paper had come out that morning.

“You’re acting like there’s a bug in your burger,” Patrick said.

“Huh?” I glanced down. I’d been gripping it hard enough to leave holes in the bun, but hadn’t taken a bite yet. I kept checking Vernon’s table, waiting for him to start shouting. But I didn’t hear any complaints. I guess I could cross that worry off my list.

I sighed and took a bite. “Government regulations actually allow a certain quantity of insect parts in food,” I said.

“Thanks a lot.” Kyle dropped his burger onto his tray. “Another thing I didn’t need to know. I’m happy being ignorant.”