فصل 03

CHAPTER 3

Never up to Me

Leaning against the wall in the hallway, I stay quiet. Some little kids walk by, reminding me that I’m in sixth grade—the highest grade in this school. But I feel like a baby.

Ally? Do you have anything to say? Mrs. Silver asks.

I’m afraid to open my mouth because sometimes things just come out that get me in more trouble.

Finally, she suggests we go to her office.

I sit in the principal’s office staring out the window, silent. I wonder what it would be like to be able to relax at school and not have to worry every second of every minute.

I wish I had my Sketchbook of Impossible Things. It’s the only thing that makes me feel like I’m not a waste of space. I like to watch the pictures in my head become real in my book. My recent favorite is a snowman that works in a furnace factory. And then I decide that the craziest, strangest, most unbelievable thing I could ever draw is me doing something right.

Mrs. Silver’s sigh brings me back to reality. Between last year and this year, you’ve been here for less than five months, Ally, and you’ve been to visit me far too much. You need to make some changes, she says.

I sit silent.

It’s up to you.

It’s not up to me. It’s never been up to me.

Mrs. Silver’s talking is like background noise. Like the radio in the car.

I don’t have any words to explain. It was a mistake. And I’m ashamed and I don’t feel like sharing that with her.

She takes a breath. Did you think it would be funny?

I shake my head.

Did you want to hurt her?

I look up quick. No! I wouldn’t hurt her. I just . . .

And I wonder what I’ve wondered before. Should I just tell her? It’s like my chair is over a trapdoor and there is a button to drop myself. I want to, but I’m afraid. I look up at her. Looking at me all disappointed. Again. And I think that there’s no use. They already think I’m a pain, so why add dumb to their list? It’s not like they can help, anyway. How can you cure dumb?

And so I look out the window again. Remind my mouth to keep shut.

I’ve learned from the seven different schools I’ve been to that it’s better to stay quiet. Never argue unless I really have to.

I realize that both of my hands have curled into tight fists and Mrs. Silver is looking at them.

She sits down in the chair next to me. Ally, sometimes it seems that you just want to get into trouble. She leans forward a bit. Do you?

I shake my head.

C’mon, Ally. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.

I look at her quick and then away. I mumble, No one can help me.

That’s not true. Will you let me try? She points at a poster on the wall. Can you read that for me, please? she says. Out loud.

The poster shows two hands reaching for each other.

Great. Probably some sappy saying about friends or sticking together or whatever. I don’t even have any friends.

C’mon, Ally. Read it for me, please.

The letters on the poster look like black beetles marching across the wall. I could probably figure most of them out, but I’d need a lot of time. And when I’m nervous, forget it. My brain goes blank like an Etch A Sketch turned upside down and shaken. Gray and empty.

Well, what does it say? she asks again.

I don’t need to read it to you. I get it, I say, trying to bluff. Staring her dead in the eyes. Believe me. I know all about it already.

I don’t know about that, kiddo. I think you might need to work on it a bit.

Now I wish I knew what the poster said. I don’t look at it, though. Then she’ll want to talk about it more.

The bell rings.

Mrs. Silver rakes her hair with her fingers. Ally. I don’t know if you thought the card would be funny or you are upset that Mrs. Hall’s leaving or what. But it feels like you’ve crossed a line this time.

I imagine myself crossing the finish line. My body breaking the bright red ribbon. The crowd cheering as confetti spins through the air. But I know this is not what she means.

As of Monday, your new teacher will be Mr. Daniels. Let’s try to avoid any negative consequences, okay?

I think about how me avoiding consequences would be like the rain avoiding the sky.

She waves me out, and as I stand, I look at that poster again. I wish I knew what it was I should learn, because I know that I should know a lot more than I do.

She sighs as I leave her office and I know she’s tired of me.

Even I’m tired of me.

• • •

As I run from the office, the hallways are filling with kids. I head back to my classroom to apologize to Mrs. Hall before the buses leave. I run up behind her, tap her on the shoulder.

When she turns and looks at me, her face goes sad before straightening out. I stand there thinking how sorry I am. Hoping she doesn’t think I’d wish anything bad on her baby.

But I can’t find the words. My mind does the Etch A Sketch thing. Blank.

What is it, Ally? she finally asks. She puts her hands on her big belly like she needs to protect it.

I turn and run out of the room. Down the hall and out the front door. The buses are pulling away without me. But that’s the way it should be, I guess. I deserve to walk.

All that long way. And all by myself.