Never Throw Boloney, EJ Patterson [trending books to read TXT] 📗

ball really hard, and she was really close to me, and I was just standing there, being all fuming. It hit me square in the nose and forehead. Dawn said that blood came quickly, I blacked out. Everything was a bit hazy; all I remember was Dawn’s white face by my side the whole time. I also remember the nurse’s office and Dr.Jenkins saying “yes, no P.E. for three and a half weeks. It’s defiantly broken.”
I had to wear a weird bandage on my nose that made me look like a duck. People kept asking if they could sign it, and I kept saying, “no, you idiot, if you did that you would break my nose again and I would kill you.”
Well, I didn’t say that exactly, but something like that.
I felt sort of bad that I couldn’t be with Dawn in Gym, but yippee, no soccer. She sort of sulked after I came to, but she soon got over it after I told her that without me on the team, they might actually win a game. After I said that she smiled a bit fakey like and said, “Yeah, well….”
Soon after the accident I was back to school with the idiots trying to sign my nose-cast. Whenever I saw Penelope in the hall I’d glare at her or laugh really loud. I didn’t know if that was mean, (ok, maybe I did,) but she wasn’t being an angel either.
After Science class on Monday, the most amazing thing happened: Charlotte talked to me. I was on my way to put my science textbook in my locker when I felt someone tap my shoulder. Figuring it was Dawn or someone, I turned around and said, “Heeeyyy watsup girlfriend!?” This was an ongoing personal joke between Dawn and me. I jumped to see Charlotte, but then remembered I was mad at her. “Oh,” I said quickly, and turned to leave. She grabbed my shoulder. “Maddie-wait,” She said. I turned to look at her, trying to make my face look mildly curious and have a bit of a glare etched into it. It didn’t work. “I wanted to tell you that what Penelope did was out of line, aiming the ball right at your face,” Charlotte started to say. I could tell that she wanted to giggle at my face, which was now pained because of my huge big-as-a-space-shuttle cast right smack dab in the middle of my face. “It was wrong and yes, it was mean. I just want you to know that Penny is sorry and feels really bad for being mean.” She stopped talking and looked like she was waiting for me to say something. I did. “If ‘Penny’ really was sorry, then she would tell me herself and not send her servant to do all the dirty work.” And with that I picked up my backpack and walked into the cafeteria.
***
It’s April. Today is April 24th. In just a couple hours, I will meet who ever wrote the stupid note. This morning, I got up feeling nauseous and looking pale. Do I have to go? Why can’t I just go straight home, and forget the thing all together? But I knew I would never do that. I would never be able to forget the note, and the fact that I came so close to see who wrote the note, but was too chicken to find out, would haunt me. So I dragged myself to school, avoided Charlotte’s eyes on the bus, and dragged myself through science, tech, English, gym, art, and math. Then came lunch, where I didn’t eat anything and Dawn tried to consol me. “Maddie, I’ve made a decision. I’m going with you.” I hugged her and said weakly, “That’s sweet, but I sorta want to go alone,” I said. Johnny didn’t meet my eyes that lunch period.
***
I wasn’t sure if tenth period, the last period of the day, went too fast or too slow. It did end, though, and I found myself dragging my feet across the dirty floor to room 212. They know all my secrets....I thought. What secrets? I don’t have any secrets! I don’t have any deep dark secrets, anyway. But what if they know about my bad test grades? Or that wart I used to have on my toe? Or how I threw up on Rachel Donohue in first grade? What if they got an embarrassing picture of me? Or the kiddie songs on my i-pod? Oh God! What if they know that…My thoughts were interrupted by me crashing into the door to room 212. A searing pain shot through my nose and down to my toes. I reached the door, my hand shaking, only to have it swing open by itself, revealing a dark, gloomy classroom. Omigod. I stepped into the dark classroom. A black, huddled mass moved in the corner, revealing long, dark hair. OmigodOmigodOmigodOMIGOD. This couldn’t be happening.
It was Charlotte.
“Maddie! You have to leave!”
“W-What?” I said dumbly.
“It’s a trap! Maddie, I’m so sorry!”
I was too shocked to move, and too angry to stand. I swayed on the spot.
She made to grab my arm but I jerked away. “How could you do this to me?” I choked out. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends,” Charlotte said, trying to grab my arm again.
“No,” I said. “We aren’t friends. I’ve tried to ignore the new obnoxious, snobby Charlotte, but a friend wouldn’t do this to me. A friend stays true to their best friend. I tried staying true to you, but you pulled away. I’m sorry, I tried, but you’re not the kind of friend I want to have.”
This had all spilled out of my mouth at once, every thought since Christmas rolling off my tongue, and I couldn’t take any of it back. The funny thing was, though, I didn’t want to take it back. It was cruel what I said, I knew, but she had to know. She deserved it.
Charlotte just stared at me. She then said, “Maddie…” and looked up.
I didn’t jump out of the way in time. A bucket of eggs and pancake batter fell on my head from the ceiling. It splattered down my shoulders and front. The bucket banged my nose, I felt like it was on fire. My shock suddenly broke. Charlotte was biting her lip. She had opened her mouth to speak when the closet door opened.
Penelope Canter walked out, laughing so hard she was holding her side. My face reddened and my humiliation and anger grew.
“You-You-you-idiot!” Was all she could manage before falling on her side, out of breath. My eyes were hot and prickly; I knew I was going to run away soon. But, to my surprise, I walked over to Penelope, wiped batter and yolk out of my eyes, and said, “I have Dawn. I have Johnny. I have my mother. I have my father. I have my brother and his girlfriend. All you have is a group of friends who are afraid of you. And you know what? I feel sorry for you.”
Her laughing subsided a bit, but she was still smiling. “Your such a dork,” she said. I turned around.
Slipping a bit on the mess, I walked to the door. Before I opened it, I turned toward Charlotte.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I walked out, tears falling down my cheeks.

Chapter 9
The next few weeks were a blur: rumors of what happened flew around the school like bullets. I heard one insane rumor that Jackie Chan was there and that I battled him with my amazing Kong-fu skills. (Why I told people about my Kong-fu powers, I don’t even know…)
Dawn, great friend that she is, stayed by my side the whole time. I asked Johnny if he knew about it, and he said he knew something was up, but he didn’t really know so he didn’t tell me. I decided not to push it further, but to accept it.
Penelope was enjoying the attention, making sure to repeat what happened in slow motion. Strange thing was, she never repeated what I said to her. I guess I made some sort of impression on her. Charlotte, though she tried to hide it, liked the way people stopped her in the halls to recount what happened.
I don’t know if anything broke between us, except my trust in her. Nothing, even a bucket of egg yolk and batter, can change the friendship between us. No, we are not best friends, but we are friends. She “blew it” as Dawn said. I guess I’ll just have to face that fact.
But she did apologize, which made my day, for the way she was acting lately. I forgave her, but one small part of me thought, “Why? She’s never going to be the old Charlotte again.” I silently agreed with it. I felt like this whole year made me stronger. Not physically, but mentally. We would probably hang out after school to do homework, but we would never have that special connection that best friends have ever again.
But the prospect of May, (and the end of the school year,) made my thoughts less gloomy.
The annual 8 grade food fight* was upon the whole grade. Not once since 2002 did the food fight actually take place. The whole grade was punished for it. They had their 8 grade picnic taken away.
But this year was going to be different. I heard from Charlotte that she heard from someone who heard from someone who heard that somebody in the grade was planning to start it. Nobody knew who, but someone was going to start it. The grade was buzzing with anticipation. Nobody knew what day it would happen, just sometime late May.
So the days and weeks passed; the rumors of the incident in room 212 finally fizzing out.
Everyday, people would look excitedly around the cafeteria, searching for huddled groups and flying applesauce.
But it wasn’t until the last week of school when chaos was unleashed.
All the kids were high on summer, and everybody knew that we would crack any day now. The mini cameras had been stationed around the school, hopefully to catch the Food Fight Culprit.
Us kids laughed at it-how would thirty cameras stop the brave hero who was to start the food fling? The School Board really underestimated us.
The lunch to remember happened the last Friday before final exams. We were all a bit downcast, due to the fact that the worst behaved kid in the grade had been taken to the office for putting gum in the key hole of a his math classroom. Nobody thought that we’d have the fight anymore. The teachers looked triumphant at the front of the lunchroom.
We were talking; Dawn, Johnny, and I, when Johnny threw down his liver sandwitch with such force it knocked down Dawn’s low-calorie chocolate milk.
“What?” I asked, alarmed.
“Somebody has to start the fight!” He said angrily.
“How?” I asked. “Jimmy Larsen was taken to the office. Who else will start it?”
He looked at me, eye brows raised.
Then he threw a liver chunk at me.
I sputtered, trying to understand what the heck just happened.
“I get it!” Dawn exclaimed. She flung chocolate milk at Johnny.
He