Rhyme Schemer (8 page)

I worked for an hour before I realized

today is Tuesday.

The day after

my library detentions ended.

Rocks don't eat lunch.

Rocks don't eat at all.

Rocks don't hide from moth boys

bent on revenge.

But I'm hungry.

Ham sandwich in my backpack.

Left the chips at home.

Too noisy.

If I sit back by the old encyclopedias

Mrs. Little doesn't see me,

or pretends like she doesn't see me,

and I can eat in peace.

No one spilling milk on my food

“accidentally.”

No one saying

Roses are red

Violets are purple

Kevin writes poems

Because he's a girl

That's a terrible poem

by the way.

Though “girple” would be an awesome word.

Tried to leave the library

but Mrs. Little tapped me on the arm.

Her cat-butt face

was in full force

but her eyes were softer.

Maybe.

I've seen what you've done to the books
,

she whispered.

I'm aware of your little schemes
.

She sounded like she was a ghost

from England.

I pulled my arm away and ran

trying to disappear like I was a ghost

from Busted-ville.

The noise again.

Maybe that should be the band's name.

Just . . .

The Noise.

They make their screeches and whines

like robot animals fighting to the death.

Today I scream with them:

I feel lost all the time

A toy in a shoe

A sock in the trash

What do I do?

The boy who is lost

Though they see me right here

I cannot be found

But I can't disappear
.

Until Petey comes to my room

and tells me to shut up.

Your dumb rhymes are ruining the music
, he says,

and I want to laugh

but it sticks in my throat

because ruining things

seems to be my new specialty.

The Poetry Bandit is in trouble.

Mrs. Little knows it's me.

Robin knows it's me.

Robin wants it to be him.

So he can be King of the School.

Am I going to be King of the School now?

I highly doubt it.

I don't think you can be king

if you're expelled.

I put this one on Mrs. Little's desk.

So maybe she'll know

why I hurt

the books.

The intercom buzzed in Social Studies,

and in front of everyone

it was announced:

Please send Kevin Jamison to Mr. Hartwick's office
.

Ooooh.

Giggle.

Yeeeer in truhhhhbullll.

Harry the mole bounced at Freckle-Face Kelly and Robin,

of course,

to walk me to the office.

Buddy system.

Not.

Water on my pants.

Well, not just my pants . . .

my crotchal area.

Thanks to gum on the water fountain.

Gum I didn't see.

Robin almost passed out from laughing.

I almost passed out from not punching him.

Luckily Robin doesn't know why I was called

to see Hartwick.

All his Poetry Bandit dreams

down the drain.

I can still hear him laughing

while I sit in the office.

Yeah, well,

we'll see who laughs last.

At least Freckle-Face Kelly didn't laugh.

I mean,
Kelly
didn't laugh.

The stain on the ceiling again,

in the shape of a cauliflower.

The stain fills my pupils

my brain

my ears

instead of Hartwick and Mrs. Little's words

discussing my fate

for defacing school property.

In my defense, I did not remove any faces from

anything.

I stare at the stain

and congratulate it in my head

for getting bigger since we've seen each other last.