Impossible Things (11 page)

It didn't make any sense, but I could have sworn she looked ashamed. “Victoria…”

“If it wasn't for me, Rick wouldn't have gone to jail and my parents wouldn't always be fighting.” Her voice broke. “You think it's so great being telekinetic? You don't understand anything.”

Nineteen

Sydney was watching us impatiently. “Look, I'm sorry to interrupt but…”

I turned back to her. “We're trying to figure out what to do, okay? If Victoria would help…”

“She can't,” Sydney said flatly.

“What do you mean, she can't?”

Sydney gave me an exasperated look. “I mean, if you guys just fix things for Ben today, it won't change anything. It'll just be the same tomorrow, and you can't always be there.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “So, what are you suggesting, Sydney? We all give up and go home?”

“Maybe we should,” Ben said. He sounded defeated. “Maybe we should find someone who has a cell phone and call Mom.”

Sydney stamped her foot. “Ben, don't be a wimp.”

I scowled at her. “I thought you were his friend.”

“I am,” she said. “And if you really want to help him, you have to help him figure out how to do this on his own.”

For a skinny little kid, she sure had a lot of opinions. There was a long silence. Felicia and Victoria both stared at Sydney; then slowly they both turned and looked at me.

Finally Felicia spoke. “It's not like we don't have some experience with bullies,” she pointed out. “Um, Ben? I don't know if you already know this, but I've been picked on a fair bit by Tyler's sister, Amber.”

“We all have,” I said. “We all know what it's like.”

“She doesn't threaten to beat you up,” Ben pointed out.

I nodded. “True. But you know what? You have to make Tyler think he doesn't scare you.”

“But he does scare me,” Ben said. “I'd be an idiot not to be scared of him. He's twice my size, and he likes to hit people.”

“Ben's got a point,” Victoria admitted.

“I didn't say he shouldn't be scared. I said that he had to pretend he wasn't scared.” I thought about Amber. “It's different.”

“I'm not such a good actor,” Ben said.

I glared at him. “Well, you're about to get better, okay?”

He nodded, wide-eyed, and I suddenly remembered what Mom had said about him looking up to me. “Listen, Ben.” I hesitated; then I plunged on. “I've been scared of Amber. I mean, I know she hasn't threatened to beat me up, but I've been scared, okay? So I do understand.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

“And you know what? It's so not okay, what Tyler's doing to you.”

“That's right,” Sydney said, nodding. “That's what I keep telling him.”

“So let's go have a word with him.” I nodded in the direction of the hill. “Come on.”

Ben's shoulders slumped. “Cassie, I think I want to go home.”

I didn't know how hard to push him. “It's up to you,” I said finally. “But if you just give up, this stuff is going to keep happening.”

Felicia looked at him, her face serious. “It's not just you, you know. Tyler bullies other kids too. If you let him go on doing this, nothing's going to change.”

“Other kids?” Ben looked startled. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

There was a long silence. Ben shrugged helplessly. “I guess it can't make things much worse.” He rubbed his eyes, brushing away tears. “What do you want me to do?”

“I'll start,” I said. “Just act like you're not scared, okay? And when it's your turn, stand up for yourself.”

We all trooped back up to the top of the toboggan run and waited for Tyler. Finally we saw him. He was flanked by two other boys and they were hauling a huge black inner tube behind them.

Victoria reached out and grasped Ben's shoulder. “Ready?”

Ben shook his head. “No, I don't know. I don't think I can do this.” His chin was trembling.

“It'll be okay,” I said softly, hoping I was right. “We won't let them hurt you.”

“Cassie, please.” Ben's shoulders hunched up. “I can't do this.”

I wanted to hug him but not with Tyler watching. I let my arms fall back to my sides, and I looked Ben straight in the eyes.

“Ben, don't let being scared stop you.”

Ben nodded mutely.

“You know what?” I said. “I was going to call Tyler over for a word, but it'd be even better if you did it.”

I didn't really think he would do it, but he stood up and took a shaky step toward the older boys. He looked terrified. I could hardly stand it.

“Hey, Tyler!” Ben called out. His voice shook a little. Tyler spun around. “Well, if it isn't the little freak. Too bad. I was hoping you'd fall in the crick and drown.”

I couldn't believe this fourth grader had the nerve to say that in front of the five of us. I wanted to pick him up and shake him until what little brain matter he had was completely scrambled.

Tyler laughed. “Hiding behind a bunch of girls, nerd-boy?”

I squeezed Ben's shoulder, and he stepped forward. “I'm not hiding behind anyone,” he said. “And I'm not scared of you. You're just a bully. And you know what?” His voice got stronger. “Most bullies have low self-esteem.”

I didn't know quite what I'd expected him to say but that wasn't it. I wondered where he was going with it.

Tyler stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I read a book about it,” Ben said. He sounded more confident now that he was talking about something he'd read. “Most bullies are actually insecure and just trying to make themselves feel better by—”

“Shut up,” Tyler said. “Your sister and your girlfriend aren't always going to be around to protect you, you know.”

Felicia stepped toward him. “But you know what? He'll tell us. And we know where to find you.”

“What are you gonna do, fatty? Sit on me?”

Felicia didn't even flinch. “If necessary,” she said grimly.

Sydney put her arm around Ben. “Ben has lots of friends, Tyler. And we don't like people who hurt him.”

“Just leave me alone, Tyler.” Ben's voice wobbled slightly. “I don't do anything to bother you.”

“You breathe,” Tyler said. “That bothers me. Your stupid face bothers me.”

My heart was beating so hard and fast I felt like it might explode. I had to say something. “You're the stupid one,” I told Tyler. “What's your problem, anyway? How come you're such a little jerk?”

Tyler stared at me, taken aback for a second.

I made a loud buzzer noise. “Game over. You lose.”

But Tyler wasn't backing down. He turned back to Ben. “Look, nerd-boy. You don't tell me what to do. Your friends don't tell me what to do. Some time, it'll just be you and me and then?” He smacked one fist into his other hand. “Pow.”

“Nice gloves,” Victoria said. “I think you owe Ben a pair.”

“That's right,” I said. “You want to hand them over, or should we come and get them?”

For the first time, Tyler looked uncertain. “You wouldn't.”

I shrugged. “Well, not if you'd rather I called your mom and told her that you threw Ben's in the creek.”

Tyler took a step back. “You can't do that!”

Aha. Finally. We'd found a crack. I nudged Ben to make sure he'd noticed.

Ben smiled. “Well, I'm sure she'd want to know.”

No dummy, my little brother.

Tyler pulled his gloves off and threw them at Ben. “Fine. I hate these stupid gloves anyway.”

Ben picked them up and put them on. “Leather. Nice.”

He looked like he'd just grown about six inches. There were all kinds of things I wanted to say to Tyler, but I thought I'd let Ben take it from here.

“Tyler.” Ben gave him a long look. “There's a program at school that might interest you.”

Tyler snorted. “I doubt that.”

“It's an anti-bullying program. Zero-tolerance. You know what that means?”

Sydney nudged me, beaming delightedly. “I've been talking to him about this for ages!” she whispered.

“Whatever,” Tyler said. He turned to walk away.

“If you ever hit me—or even threaten me, or chase me, or call me names—again, I'm going to tell. I'll tell our teacher. I'll tell the principal.” Ben raised his voice. “And I'll tell your mother.”

For a moment I thought we'd won.

Then Tyler took a step toward us. “Sure you will.” He lifted his chin and stared at Ben with hard eyes. “Remember what I said. Sometime soon, when it's just the two of us?” He punched his fist into his hand again. “You're dead, kid.”

Twenty

For the next few days, I didn't let Ben out of my sight on the way to and from school. I was worried that I'd made things worse by encouraging him to take a stand. I couldn't keep an eye on him all the time, and what would happen if Tyler caught him alone? Sitting at my desk, I clenched my fists and felt helpless.

I pushed my worries aside and tried to concentrate. The art project was due the next day, and what did I have? A bunch of cut up magazines and a spiral-bound journal full of scribbled notes about myself.
Who is Cassidy Silver?
Not an artist, clearly. Still, I had to hand in something. I flipped through my pile of magazine cuttings and looked around the classroom to see who was hogging all the glue sticks.

Joe Cicarelli appeared to have three. I wandered over to his desk and held out my hand. “Got a spare glue stick, Joe?”

He picked one up. “It'll cost ya.”

“Cost me what?”

He nodded at my T-shirt. I glanced down at it. Light green with black letters:
What would Scooby Doo?

“You want my T-shirt? For a glue stick?” I snorted. “No way.”

He laughed. “Nah. I just want to know where you get them.”

I grinned. “Ah, well. That's top secret information. It'll cost you at least two glue sticks.”

He reluctantly handed over another one. “So much for my art project. I was going to make a glue stick sculpture and now you've ruined it.”

“How exactly would a glue stick sculpture reflect who you are? You have some obsession with glue sticks or something?”

Joe clutched one hand to his heart. “I'm wounded. Cut to the quick.” Then he frowned. “It's supposed to be about me? I missed that part.”

“Oh, boy. Look, because I feel sorry for you, I'll let you in on my secret.” I leaned over and wrote the address for my favorite T-shirt website on one of the scraps of construction paper littering his desk. “There you go. Enjoy.” I headed back to my desk, two glue sticks richer and smiling to myself. School was a lot more fun than it used to be.

Half an hour later, I had something to hand in. I just wasn't sure it counted as an art project. I glanced around the room. Victoria looked like she was deep in concentration over her project, so I wandered over to say hi to Felicia and Nathan. One of the best things about art was that Ms. Allyson let us move about and talk to each other during class.

Nathan grinned. “Hey, so are you getting somewhere?”

“I'm done,” I said smugly. Then I sighed and made a face. “Actually, I just cut some stuff up and stuck it together. I've decided that art isn't one of my strengths.” I tried not to think about how great it would've been to tell my mom that I'd won an art contest.

“Want to see mine?” Nathan asked, sliding his painting toward me.

“Wow. That's totally cool.” It looked like it had started out as a collage of black and white images— photographs, mostly of trees and fences and snow—but he'd painted over top so that the images were stained with color.

“I took all the photographs myself,” he said. “Developed them and everything at home.”

“Seriously?”

“It's kind of a hobby.”

“More than that, I'd say.” I studied the pictures. “I mean, I don't know the first thing about photography, but these are amazing.”

Nathan's face creased with a wide smile. “Thanks. Thanks, Cassidy.”

I grinned back and glanced over at Felicia, who quickly covered her paper. Her desk was covered with pastels. “How about you, Felicia? Are you just about done?”

“I don't know,” she said. She twisted her fingers in her thick tangle of curls. “I keep adding stuff and changing stuff and I can't tell if I'm making it better or wrecking it completely.”

“Can I see it?” I asked.

Felicia shook her head. “You'll probably think it sucks.”

“Nah, I've already taken first place in the suckage category. Sorry. You can't compete.” I laughed. “Joe says he's making a glue stick sculpture.”

“Seriously?”

“Until I took his glue sticks.”

“Aha. Does that mean you've finally made something?”

“Mmm. Want to see it?”

Felicia stood up and followed me back to my desk. I lifted the papers I'd used to hide my art project. “See? Not art.”

She stared at it. From a distance of a few feet, it looked like a mixed-up newspaper.

Victoria looked up from her own work. “Can I see?”

I nodded and she came and stood beside Felicia, bending down to look more closely.

In the end, I'd given up on painting and sculpture and finding images that called out to me. I'd decided that since I'd used all the art class time to write in my notebook, my notebook would have to be the raw material. So what I'd made was a collage of words and sentences and questions. A
Who is Cassidy Silver?
collage.

Victoria and Felicia stared and stared.

I squirmed. “Okay, I know it's not art.”

Felicia finally turned to look at me. “That was brave of you,” she said. “Letting us see that. Read that.”