The Rule of Won (6 page)

Alone again, I settled back onto the couch and returned to the book. Like I said, it was an easy read, and I cruised through the rest faster than a graphic novel.

I was just about finished, still lying on the sofa, trying to shift so the loose spring wouldn't poke my spine, when the door rattled, and my peace was again disturbed. This time by Grandpa Joey.

He's a gnarled old guy, but gnarled in a way that makes everything about him seem strong, the way a knot in a piece of wood is tougher, denser than the rest. He insists I call him Joey. It's not his name, just the name on the sign of the repair place he bought forty years ago, Joey's Auto Repairs. Since all his customers call him Joey, he tells me he's getting too old to answer to too many names. Mom still calls him Dad.

“What the hell's going on?” he said, slamming his tool case down with a thud. He always dropped it in the same spot. The wood in the floor there was scratched and worn. “The TV isn't on. You sick?”

“No, I'm reading. You're just like Mom. What is it with you guys? I read sometimes.”

“Right. And sometimes I like to put on ballet tights and do a few pliés.”

I held the book up, to prove what I said was true. He squinted at it.

“What's it about?”

“Positive thinking.”

He laughed. “I'm positive you're wasting your time. That
positive enough for you? Why don't you read a Chilton's or something useful?”

“This could be useful,” I said. I pretended to go back to reading, even though I was up to the index.

He shook his head and kept walking. A few paces toward the kitchen, he stopped short, then turned around to look at me again.

“It's for some girl, right?”

Joey's still got a lot on the ball.

“Any use lying?” I asked.

“Nah.”

“Then yeah. Pretty much.”

Chuckling, he came back and patted me on the shoulder, as if he were proud of me and sorry for me at the same time.

That's Joey. I'd like to say he was my father figure if he weren't so much like a freaking lawn gnome with attitude. But I love him nearly the same as I love Mom.

Actually reading the book didn't change my opinion. Believing in
The Rule
still felt like believing in Santa Claus, without the having-to-be-good part. Even so, when I went to bed that night, I thought of my spork and said those words to myself over and over, “Screech Neck High will get more funding.”

Might as well, right?

Next morning, when I saw Vicky in the hall, I didn't call to her, I just snuck up and spun her around.

She looked annoyed until I said, “Read it.”

“Really?”

“Cover to cover. Even the index. Had no idea how many words start with ‘X.' ”

“That's great. I'm so proud of you, Caleb,” she said.

She got so excited, she gave me a hug, wrapping her arms around me and clicking her painted fingernails together across my shoulders. I think they had little eyeballs on them that day, but they went by so fast, I couldn't be sure. It felt nice, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't exactly a boyfriend/girlfriend hug, more a brother/sister thing.

Sometimes, even when I know what's up, I still go through the motions. It's the downside of being a slacker, I guess, not being willing to change direction unless you absolutely have to, because it requires effort.

“So, can we go out again sometime?”

She froze, face still smiling, only now she wasn't smiling because she was happy, more like she was buying time.

“Sure,” she finally said.

Then there was an even
bigger
pause.

“Maybe we can get together with some of the kids from the Crave,” she said.

“That's not exactly what I had in—”

She kept going, like I hadn't even opened my mouth. “Isn't the book amazing? Isn't Ethan amazing? I mean, he really understands, and he really believes. You can just see it in his eyes, and he talks like he's on fire.”

“Yeah,” I said. “And did you check out his shoelaces?”

Instead of responding, she kept talking. I nodded a whole lot until Vicky said she had to go do something or other and I
said I had to do something or other, too, so I trudged off, all but convinced we had just broken up.

I was heading toward trig when I spotted All-den struggling to stuff books into his overpacked locker. This guy was always stuffing things, grunting and shoving, just like a cartoon character.

I scooped up a few and held them out to him.

“Caleb,” he said.

“All-den,” I answered.

We stood there a second, me holding out the books, him unable to grab them because he couldn't move his hands. He nodded toward the pile he was holding up. I rolled my eyes and moved in.

I shoved the books I was holding on top of the pile, then held the whole mess in place as he slammed the locker shut.

“Why do you have all this stuff anyway?”

“I'm the editor of the paper,” he mumbled. “It's . . . research.”

“Right,” I said. “I heard about the editor thing. Congratulations. What are you researching?”

His eyes shifted around. “Nothing.”

“No, what?”

He looked at his locker door. “Actually, I've been checking over police and construction reports, trying to prove you were responsible for the vandalism that brought the gym down.”

I shook my head. “Great. That's just . . . terrific, really. Thank you
so
much.”

Finally, All-den got himself enough together to look me in the eye. It was weird. His eyes, I mean. They were this bright
green. Then he said the magic words: “Near as I can tell so far, you had nothing to do with it.”

My eyes lit up. “Really?” I asked.

All-den nodded slowly. “The construction company was using the original school blueprints, which, it turns out, have a design flaw that caused the gym to collapse during the storm in the first place and . . . probably caused the second collapse, too.”

“Great! That's just . . . terrific! Really! Thank you
so
much!” I said. “Going to write an article on it?”

“I suppose I should. Yes.”

I could've hugged the guy. “All-den, you are one okay dude!”

“Please, call me Moore.”

“Why?”

“I don't like the way you say All-den.”

“Fine, Moore. Everyone's going to know. Funny, it's just like . . .”

“What?”

“Well, it's like what I asked for in my Crave.”

I couldn't believe I actually said that out loud. Neither could All-den, or Moore, or whoever he was.

He tsked loudly. “Freaking Vanuatu.”

“I am not a freaking . . . what?”

“Vanuatu.
Mondo Cane.
”

“I don't speak Italian.”

“It's not Italian. It's from a movie.”

“What's it mean?”

“Look it up.”

I was about to explain how totally unlikely
that
was when a shrieking Vicky rushed up.

“Did you hear? Did you hear?” She was so loud, everyone in the hall turned to stare.

“What?”

“It worked!” she shouted. “It worked! Screech Neck High just got a grant for, like, half a million dollars! They're going to rebuild the gym!”

I broke out in a huge grin.

“Really?”

“Really!”

“Ha!” I said. I turned to All-den—I mean Moore—and said, “Ha!”

He shook his head. I turned back to Vicky and we just stood there, wordless, grinning, shaking with excitement.

It worked!

Out of nowhere, her body was up against mine, and not like a brother and sister. This time our lips pressed together. I think she may have meant to just hug me but was so excited, she forgot where to stop.

Me? I pushed forward and opened my mouth a little. Maybe it was just out of old habit, but she, as they say, reciprocated.

And man, no matter what All-den Moore had to say about the Vana-whatsis, did I ever love
The Rule of Won
just then.

• I would still like the greatest gaming system in the world, the Xbox. A 733 MHz Intel main processor and 233 MHz graphics processor from nVidia create photorealistic graphics in real time. A huge hard drive stores saved games and characters, and a built-in Ethernet port enables super-fast multiplayer online gaming over a broadband Internet connection. —Landon

• Freaky about the funding. Some other stuff happened this week, too, not ten million dollars, which I was just kidding about, but I was thinking a few days ago how much I loved my mother's apple crisp and how she never makes it anymore, and out of nowhere we had some after dinner. I'm starting to think this is pretty cool. There's stuff I want for myself, too, but I'm not sure where to start, so this time, I think I'm just going to sit back and see what happens next. —Dylan

• Our lame-ass basketball team sucks. Yeah, we don't have our own gym to practice in, but we haven't won a game in ages.
We're the laughingstock of the state, a joke to the world and ourselves. So what say we picture the Basket Cases kicking some serious ass for a change? —Mike

• Forget the spider strength. I'll get real. How about the school uses some of that money for a new swimming pool? —Jacob

• I'd like my grandfather's auto repair shop to start making more money so we can start to pay off our credit card debt. He's a smart, hardworking guy, the best in town with a diesel engine, but the customers don't show up anymore. He says it's the economy, but I'm thinking it feels more like bad luck. —Caleb

• Oh, algebra! Once you were the grim steel lock on the fast iron door of my dreams, but I will open you! Once you were the hairy wild beast, all red teeth and yellow eyes, that threatened to shred my poor soul, but I will tame you! Once you were forever beyond my reach, as far as the stars, but I will grasp you! I will ace this freaking class! I will! I will! I will! —Erica

• Of course I still want to win the election, but it almost seems selfish to think of that now. We have a real chance to change things around here. We've proved it! We have the power! I hope everyone, in the Crave and the school, starts to take part in our student government so we can all work together and make this place as great as I know it can be! —Vicky

• I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Of COURSE the book works! I wrote to Jasper Trelawney the minute I found out about the grant, and he posted the message at his Web site! It's one of about a trillion, and he hasn't written back yet, but I know he will, because it's what I really want! —Grace

• I suggested the money for the school, and I was very excited when we got it, but now it feels like there's something creepy about the whole thing. I mean, I guess it could just be a coincidence, but if it isn't, I'm a little worried what might happen if we ask for the wrong things. Maybe I'm just not ready to have whatever I want, or maybe I don't think I deserve it, or whatever, but I think I'm just going to sit this round out and let someone else come up with something worthy to wish for. —Dana

• Whoa! We got our funding AND my parents caved and decided to let me stay home alone while they're out of town! I'm going to throw a little get-together, nothing big. Vicky, maybe we can celebrate your election? I know it's going to happen! My wish? One freaking fantastic vacation! —Jane

• This is my first time. I'm not exactly shy, but no matter how much time I spend dressing up or trying to talk to people, I never seem to be as popular as some of the other girls. Just for once, I'd like it to be me everyone says hello to. —Olivia

• I'm glad there's finally a place in this school where we can talk about spiritual issues with each other. I know how hard it can
be, especially when a lot of the other kids think it's not cool to believe in something. The three things I want for myself are the courage to change the things I can, the patience to accept the things I can't change, and the wisdom to know the difference. —Will

• I don't know if this is the sort of thing you're supposed to ask for, but there's this hot girl in my astronomy class I just can't stop thinking about. It's not love or anything. More of a magnificent obsession. I'd kill for a chance with her, so, yeah, I'm happy to chant or whatever. —Jeff

• I managed to find my slate tank top on eBay. No real magic, but just the same, thanks. What I'm feeling like now are some shoes to match. —Beth

• After I found out about the money, I pulled myself together, broke those sacred clique lines, and talked to that guy. I pretended I could hear what was playing on his earbuds and told him I liked it. He actually shared an earbud with me, and we're meeting tomorrow in study hall. What I want is for this to keep going the way it's going! —Kathleen

• I would love for my mother to get a freaking raise, so she can take some time off from work and be home with Angie, my little sister. I have to be home all the time and have, like, no social life. Mom's up for review next week, so, please? —Hailey

• Last year my father's store was robbed. He had a shotgun shoved in his face. It really scared the crap out of me and I'm still on anti-anxiety meds. I used to feel okay at school, but lately I've been having nightmares about this creepy guy I see in the lunchroom coming into class and shooting everyone. I try to run, but it's like my feet are stuck in molasses. For all I know, he's an okay guy, but I want the dreams to stop. —Lauren

• Despite all my personal imanifesting, Nicole's iPhone has not broken yet. Someone on the revenge.net message board told me maybe I was feeling conflicted about this, like maybe I didn't want to hurt Nicole, but that's ridiculous. Another person said maybe I should be more specific, and that made sense. So maybe one of those metal detectors could go on the fluke as she passed through it, creating a big emf blast that would wipe the iPhone clean? —Sophia