فصل 11

CHAPTER 11

Scrambled Egg

When we come into the classroom, Mr. Daniels makes an announcement. Attention, Fantasticos! We have brand-new fantastico seats. So, find yours and settle in.

Jessica is sitting next to Suki and staring at Shay like their separation is a great injustice.

It turns out that I’m sitting in the front row next to Keisha—the girl who can bake and write at the same time while I can’t do either.

We don’t speak all morning, and I can’t stop worrying that she doesn’t like me. When she finally glances at me, I blurt out, I don’t mind being your friend.

Keisha looks annoyed. You don’t have to do me any favors.

No, I say, trying to undo what I didn’t mean to say. I just mean . . . And then I stop because I don’t know what I meant and I’m nervous and embarrassed and that is never good when I’m trying to say something. Every word is another shovelful of dirt from the hole I’ve dug for myself. So I figure my best bet is to shut my mouth.

But the silence gets too long and too loud, so I try to think of something to say. I always knew what to say to my grandpa and he always knew what to say to me. I wish he were here to whisper in my ear. And then I think of Alice and how she argued with Humpty Dumpty about using the right words. I turn to Keisha and blurt out, Do you like eggs?

Eggs? she asks.

Oh no. She thinks I’m a barrel full of crazy, but I keep going because sometimes my tongue goes on without my say-so. Yeah. I love eggs. Scrambled eggs. Fried eggs. Poached on toast, and boiled eggs. I love peeling the shell off of a boiled egg, don’t you? I even like egg salad, which my brother won’t eat even if someone holds him down . . .

Her eyebrows scrunch up, reminding me of angry caterpillars. That’s incredibly interesting. Then she searches inside her desk for something. I know this move. It’s a polite way of ignoring me. People do it a lot.

Finally, I just put my head down. Grandpa used to say that Alice in Wonderland falling down the rabbit hole was just like real life. I didn’t used to understand what he meant, but I do now.

• • •

There can’t be any place on the planet scarier than a school cafeteria. I hold my tray so tight, my fingers hurt.

I hear, Hey, Ally! It’s Shay. She is standing with Jessica and a few others.

Yeah? I ask.

Do you want to sit with us for lunch?

Of course I don’t want to sit with them. But I am getting tired of sitting alone. And having everyone else see me sit alone.

Besides that, Shay, Jessica, and some other girls all have these woven friendship bracelets. And I have never had the kinds of friends who have matching bracelets, but I have always wanted them. It’s like the bracelet tells the world that the person wearing it has someone who cares about them. Not like a family member that has to care, but someone who just likes you.

I want to feel a part of something. Anything, I guess.

Shay is overly happy that I’ve said yes.

I sit down after glancing at the seat to make sure I won’t be sitting in a pool of glue. Shay motions to me to sit next to her. She and Jessica smile that smile that on the outside seems fine but your gut tells you to be careful of. There are a few other girls. Max is there with one other boy.

Jessica points at Albert and they start laughing. I look over and don’t see anything funny. Can you believe it? Shay asks. How pathetic is that? Hey, Albert, she calls, is that supposed to be a fashion statement?

I still don’t get it. He’s wearing his usual Flint shirt and jeans. Why are they so worked up now?

Shay hits me on the side of the arm and points down at his feet.

The backs of his sneakers have been cut out.

Shay calls him over and he comes. I don’t know why everyone does what she says. Even me. Today, anyway.

What’s the matter? she asks him. Don’t you have any money for shoes?

Quite the contrary, Albert begins. But given the choice of buying new sneakers that I will outgrow in three months or a chemistry set that I can use for an undefined amount of time, this seemed the clear choice. They’re in fine shape except for being just a bit short.

Did you hear that? Shay asks. He chopped the back of his shoes off. Like slippers.

Jessica adds, Next, he’ll be wearing a robe.

Shay turns to her. I think robes would be cool. We should wear them tomorrow.

Yeah, that would be cool! Jessica says.

Shay laughs, but I don’t think Jessica knows Shay isn’t laughing because of the robes. I think Shay said something dumb to see if Jessica would go along. Sometimes I think Jessica would follow Shay out of an airplane without a parachute.

Then Shay turns to me. Well, Ally, she asks, what do you think of wearing robes tomorrow?

I’d like to tell her it’s dumb, but I say, Not my thing.

Is that so? Well, what do you think of Albert and his slippers?

I feel like I’m in one of those old detective movies that Grandpa loved. In a cramped, small room under a bright light, being asked a question I don’t want to answer.

The thought to stick up for him goes through my head, but that doesn’t seem like the right answer for Shay.

They’re pretty dopey, I say. What a weirdo, huh?

I’ve made Shay happy.

I feel terrible.

And I know that I am going to feel even worse when the shade comes down over Albert’s face. When he looks sad.

But that never comes. He just stands there eating Doritos and studying us like we are lab mice. I think it curious that you worry about what I have on my feet when three of you are wearing red shirts. Not a wise color. Red is the color of stop lights and signs, bad wounds, warning lights, and the most severe of sunburns. It represents red alerts and high fevers. Red numbers show a loss in accounting. Red represents danger.

I think of all of the red marks that cover my papers from teachers. How I hate to get them back.

Jessica laughs loudest. What a weirdo, Albert!

Furthermore, he says, any crew member of Star Trek’s starship Enterprise who wears a red shirt never appears in another episode. Frankly, I think you’ve made poor choices.

They all burst into loud laughter. Albert! Max says. It’s only a TV show, dude. And not a very good one, either.

Albert’s arm stops dead on the way to his mouth with another Dorito. Not a very good one?

Albert, Shay says, leaning forward a bit, you go right ahead and ignore what you look like. But it’s the rest of us who suffer we have to look at you.

Actually, he says, I don’t take my appearance lightly. I take you lightly.

And with that he turns and is gone before she can pull out some other mean thing. And I wish I was more like Albert. Seeing him shuffle away in those sneakers makes me want to be better. I’m not perfect, but at least I’m not mean.

And then my heart sinks, because I realize that I just was.

I guess I did it because I was lonely. Now I know that there are worse things than being lonely.