فصل 15

CHAPTER 15

Ungreased Gears

For homework, Mr. Daniels said we have to write a paper describing how we feel about a short story he read today. He says there’s no right or wrong answer. He just wants to know our thoughts.

Part of my brain knows that this shouldn’t be that hard. I would be able to tell him in two minutes how I feel about it. But I’ll be celebrating another birthday by the time I get it written down. And when I do, he probably won’t be able to understand it anyway.

Travis comes in the back door, drops his bag, and takes off his steel-toed boots. Hey, squirt. The smell of a garage fills the kitchen. But I like it.

Hey, I say, trying to get the thoughts floating around in my head to land on the paper. I don’t know why the things in my brain get lost on the way down my arm.

Travis takes a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and drinks from it.

Hello, Travis? Gross.

He laughs at me.

No one else will drink that now, you know.

Good. He smiles. My plan is a success. He walks away, taking the whole carton with him.

Travis?

He stops in the hallway after taking another swig. Yeah?

I know what his answer will be, but I ask anyway. I’m desperate. Can you help me?

With that book stuff you’re doing? He points using the carton.

Yeah. I have to write something . . .

Whoa, Ally. I can give you new spark plugs. Change your oil. Even rebuild your carburetor. But the writing? No can do. When it comes to that, my brain is like gears with no grease. Parts grinding together. Seriously. It ain’t pretty.

Please? You have to be better at it than me.

He takes a deep breath. Can’t you wait until Mom gets home?

She left a message saying she’s closing, and I can’t tell her I need help that late. She’ll be mad.

Look. You know I’d love to help you out, but the whole school thing . . . It’s like asking a blind man to drive a bus. Besides, he says, sipping again, I’d rather eat a bag of hair.

He’s trying to make me laugh and the picture in my head is funny. And kind of gross. But I can’t laugh. I can’t. I’m too desperate.

I must look sad because his voice is sweet. Seriously, Al. I would help you, but I’m no better at it than you. I’m really not.

• • •

The next morning, I am trying to decide if I should turn in my paper, knowing Mr. Daniels will probably think I spit it out in two minutes. The truth is that it cost me my whole night and a headache that was so bad, it reminded me of the Queen in Alice in Wonderland always yelling, Off with her head! Just because I thought that would be a relief.

I worry what Mr. Daniels will say about it. For now, he’s in the hallway with another kid.

Good morning, Keisha says. I have something for you. And she holds out a cupcake.

Cupcake! Max says.

Put your eyes back in your head, Max. This is not for you, Keisha says.

Me want cupcake! Oliver says, flailing about a bit. Me love cupcakes!

You’re such a freak, Shay says. That’s Cookie Monster who talks like that.

Oliver gets dead serious. Not a single thing on him is moving except his mouth. If I’m talking like that, then I’m the one talking like that. And besides, do you really think that Cookie Monster would turn down a cupcake? I mean, it isn’t broccoli or nuclear sludge or something. You could tell him it’s a big, tall cookie with frosting on it. He’d suck it down like a vacuum cleaner. I bet you he would. You want to bet me? Do you?

Jessica begins to speak, but Shay cuts her off with a look. No. I won’t bet you. I don’t bet on anything. Ever. And especially not with you.

Shay spins on her foot and leaves. Jessica scurries after her.

It takes three quarters of a second for Oliver to be onto something else. Wait! That reminds me, he says. During our class party, I hid a Halloween cookie somewhere in my desk.

The Halloween party? Keisha asks. That was weeks ago.

Yeah! He starts digging for it, things falling to the floor as he searches. If it’s there, it’s probably as hard as concrete.

Keisha turns back to me. What is it with this class? They lose control over food. She shakes her head and then pushes the cupcake toward me. For you!

For me? I ask. Nobody ever brings me anything. Except trouble.

Yeah! Of course it’s for you!

Why?

Because I’m still cracking up over what you did with those flowers, that’s why. She cuts the cupcake in half and shows me that it says Wow inside.

I’m happy.

Mr. Daniels walks back into the room. Okay, my Fantasticos! Good news! All homework assignments have been passed in today. That’s worth five extra minutes of snack time.

The boys are as excited as if they’ve heard there would be free pizza delivered, too.

I hear Keisha kind of laughing to herself. I figure it’s because of the boys all going nuts. But then she turns to me and says, You’ve got guts, Ally. I respect that.

I like that, too. But mostly I like that she likes it.

Hey, she says. You want to sit together at lunch? I’ve been sitting with some people, but I don’t talk to them and they don’t talk to me. And you sit alone, so . . .

A mind movie shows us sitting at the table talking and me being happy.

Ally? What do you think?

Oh! Yes, that would be great. Thank you.

• • •

After the best lunch and recess I’ve had in a long time, Mr. Daniels waves me up to his desk. He has my homework and my journal. He’s trying to look all happy and light, but I can see the seriousness underneath.

Hey, Ally. I’m glad you turned in your homework and it’s more than you usually write. That’s great.

I stay quiet.

I’m just wondering how long it took you to do your homework. I’m not going to ask you to make changes or anything. I’m just wondering.

This feels like a trap. I know it isn’t good, so I wonder if it would be better to say I did it fast on the bus or if I should tell him that I worked really hard.

Ally?

It took me . . . kind of a long time, I guess. I mean, I tried to do my best on it. I look at it. Is it wrong?

It’s got some good ideas and that’s what the assignment was all about. No worries, okay?

No worries? That’s easy for him to say.