The Bully Bug (6 page)

He leaped back, his eyes darting around the room. Then he started talking to himself. “I knew I should have waited until I got home. It was only three more hours. I knew it. I could have waited.”

“Stop babbling,” I said.

“Yeah. Absolutely. No more babbling.” He nodded, then jammed his hand in his right front pocket and pulled out a bunch of change. “Here, that's my lunch money. Take it. If it's not enough, I'll get more.”

“I don't want your money,” I said.

“Homework?” he asked, holding up his notebook. “It would never pass as yours, but you're welcome to it.”

“No.” I smacked the notebook out of his hand. “I don't want your stupid homework.”

He scrunched his eyes real tight. “Just make it quick. Okay? Alacrity would be appreciated. Get it over with. Don't break my glasses. Mom really hates when that happens.”

“I'm not going to hurt you!” I yelled. Though it was going to be a hard promise to keep.

He opened one eye. “Then what is the purpose of this encounter?”

“Help me,” I said.

“With what?”

I reached down and pulled up the front of my shirt.

He screamed and leaped away like a human cricket. I thought he was going to jump through the little window at the back wall—the thick frosted one. But instead, his face changed. All of a sudden, he turned from a cricket to an owl.

“Chitinous exoskeletal material extruding cilia…,” he said, taking a step toward me. He reached out a hand and said, “May I?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He lifted one of the hairs, poked at my chest, and said a bunch more stuff.

“What are you talking about?” I didn't understand any of what he'd said.

He explained, but it was just another jumble of big words. I don't think even most adults would have understood him. I waited for a sentence to pass by that I recognized as English. No such luck until finally, he said, “You appear to be taking on some of the attributes of an insect.”

“You don't look surprised,” I said.

“I've encountered numerous strange events,” he told me. “The density of phenomena in this vicinity is staggering.”

I had no idea what that meant, either, but at least he seemed interested. “So, can you help me?” I asked.

He grinned, and for the first time in my life, I felt scared of a little nerd. “I'd love to try.”

“So let's go,” I said.

“Now?” He tore his eyes away from my insect body and looked up to my face. “Not while school's on. I can't skip school.”

“But—”

“Meet me out front after school,” he said. As he walked away, he looked back and said, “You know, you really smell nice.” Then he dashed out of the bathroom, spewing a trail of large words behind him.

I was about to leave when I found that I had another problem.

 

Twelve

SLIPPING THROUGH THE CRACKS

 

More hairs had started growing on my arms. Lots more. I couldn't go through the school day like that. I turned my head to look at my face in the mirror.

Oh man.

No way.
For a minute, I froze. I just couldn't believe what I saw. But it was real. I'd turned my head around without turning my body. Whoa. I didn't like that at all. I turned my head back around, then carefully turned my whole body. I checked the mirror. I was drooling so bad, I looked like some kind of stuck water fountain. Between the hairs and the spit, there was no way I wanted people staring at me. I had to get out. I figured I could hang around somewhere nearby and wait for the nerd. I'd get in trouble later for cutting class, but that kind of trouble was nothing. Not when you looked at what I was going through right now.

I peeked past the bathroom door to make sure nobody was in the hall, then slipped out.

Next thing I knew, I heard footsteps coming toward me. I ran down the hall the other way and headed for the gym. There was another door at the side of the gym, next to the bleachers.

Oh man. It was locked. I was doomed. The steps were following me. Teachers are like bloodhounds. Once they think there's someone they can catch, they never stop chasing. I looked at the bottom of the door and saw a gap. At least half an inch.

Bugs could get in and out of just about anywhere. I'd seen it a million times. Bugs and hamsters. Bud and I had pet hamsters once. They got right out of their cage. I saw them slip under the opening—flat as a stomped soda can.

The footsteps came closer. I had to try. I dropped on my stomach and pushed my head against the bottom of the door. I halfway hoped it wouldn't work. Because if I could do it, that meant I was a lot less normal than I wanted to be. As I pushed, I felt something flattening in my head. It was like my skull was made of plastic. Man. It was weird. I closed my eyes and pushed harder. Even with my eyes closed, I could tell my head wasn't in the gym anymore. Everything was brighter. I opened one eye. My head had made it through the crack under the door. I kept pushing. I got my arms through. I didn't want to look back, but I couldn't help myself.

I wish I hadn't. It was like my body was cut in half. My chest was partway through, but it disappeared under the door. I pulled the rest of myself through real fast before I could think too much about everything inside me squishing down. I didn't see how it could be very healthy. But at least I'd gotten out of the building.

As I slid my feet out through the crack, my sneakers got stuck. I had to twist around and yank real hard. At first, that didn't work. But I gave a super-hard tug, and they popped through. I heard footsteps on the gym floor. Then someone rattled the locked door.

I'd just made it.

Hey, I thought of a joke. How fast did I get out of the school? I got out in nothing flat. That's a good one. But there's no way I could explain it to anybody. What could I say? I was trapped in a room and then I got out by flattening myself. So I got out in nothing flat.

At least I was free. Now I just had to wait until the nerd got out of school.

As I walked around the side of the school, I saw Charlie, the custodian, talking to another guy. They were standing by the trees. Charlie grabbed one of the bare branches, where I'd eaten the leaves. I heard the other guy say, “No problem. I'll be back to spray tomorrow.”

The guy walked to a truck. On the side, it said,
BUG-B-GONE EXTERMINATORS
. There was a picture of a dead bug painted under the name. Somehow, it made me feel sad.

I waited until Charlie left, then snuck back as far as I could between the trees, figuring I could hang out there until school ended.

Overhead, a plane rumbled. I looked up at it and I knew how fast it was going. I knew which direction it was headed.

I thought about how I'd slipped under the door. And about how I'd turned my head halfway around. I wondered what else I could do. I tried to remember what I'd seen at the museum. There were all those pictures of what bugs could do. They could jump real far and pick up heavy stuff.

Might as well try
, I thought. I jumped. Whoa. Unbelievable. I shot up about ten feet. Too bad I didn't like to play basketball. When I landed, I looked around for something to lift. I didn't see any rocks. I saw a bug. A big one. Ms. Clevis's shiny blue Volkswagen Beetle. I snuck over to the parking lot and grabbed the back bumper.

I pulled up, and the rear wheels left the ground. Wow. I put it down gently. As I walked back to the trees, feeling good about how strong I was, I realized something that took the nice feeling right out of me. I'd been strong all my life. It didn't do me any good. It didn't make people like me or want to be with me. It just made them afraid. Now I was even stronger. But it wouldn't make any difference. Either way, I was just some sort of monster to them.

I hid beneath the trees and waited for school to get out.

 

Thirteen

HOME OF THE NERD

 

When the bell rang, I watched everybody leave the building. Bud came out right away and stood by the front door. He kept looking around. I guess he was waiting for me. That made me feel good. But I watched as everyone else walked around him. They all made sure not to get too close. Man. I'd been in the middle of it all my life, but it was even worse, seeing it from over by the trees. Nobody wanted anything to do with Bud.

I had an urge to go over, just so he wouldn't be alone. But I didn't want any of my teachers to spot me. Or any of the kids. Not with all these hairs sticking out of me. I felt real bad leaving him out there, especially since I knew he was waiting for me. And since I knew I wasn't going to show up.

“Ready?”

The voice made me jump. Not a good thing, since I was under a big branch.

“Ouch!” I shouted as the branch smacked against my head. I rubbed the spot.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” the nerd said.

“You didn't scare me,” I told him. “Nothing scares me. You just surprised me. How'd you know I'd be here?”

This big smile stretched across his face. “Where else would you be?” he asked.

I wasn't sure what he meant, so I let it drop.

He pointed to the tree next to me. “You'd better cut that out,” he said.

I looked over. Three or four of the branches were bare. I rubbed my tongue around in my mouth. Oh yuck. I'd been snacking again. “I didn't know I was doing it,” I said.

He nodded. “Instinctive behavior. This is fascinating. Come on. Let's go to my house. We can cut behind the school and avoid detection.”

I followed him, looking back to see if Bud was still there.

“Holy cow! Cut that out!” he shouted.

“What?” I asked.

“Turn your head back around,” he told me.

“Oh.” I'd forgotten I could do that.

“And here,” he said, holding out a handful of paper towels. “You might want to wipe your chin.”

“Thanks.”

As we reached the street behind the school yard, he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pen. “What color is this?” he asked, pushing it toward my face.

“Gray,” I told him.

“Outstanding,” he said. “I suspected as much. Insect vision is spectrally shifted. You can't discern the low frequencies, but you have great acuity for the ultraviolet.”

My hand shot out and grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. It was so fast, I didn't even see my arm move.

“Superior reflexes,” he said.

I didn't mean to grab him, but I had to get one thing straightened out. “Talk so I can understand you.”

He opened his mouth. I think he was about to say some kind of put-down. That would have been a big mistake. He was my only hope, but I wasn't going to let him make fun of me. Finally, he said, “I'll endeavor—sorry, I'll try to limit my vocab—I mean, my choice of words.”

I let my hand drop. “Thanks, nerd.”

“My name's Norman,” he said.

“Thanks, Norman. You were talking about seeing red stuff, right?”

“Right. Insects can't see some colors that we can. But they can see some that we can't.” He looked at me like he was waiting to see if I understood.

I nodded.

For most of the rest of the walk, I didn't say anything. But there was one thing I had to know. As we reached his house, I asked him, “Why are you helping me?”

He shrugged. “How often do I get a chance to help anyone? I can't hit a baseball. I can't sink a basket or kick a goal. I fall off my bike so often, the sides of my seat are scuffed. But there's one thing I'm good at. And that's science. If anyone can help you, I can. There's no way I can walk away from a challenge like that. Even if you did beat me up seventeen times since kindergarten.”

“Seventeen?” I asked. I couldn't even remember beating him up before. “Are you sure?”

He pointed to the side of his glasses, where the frame was taped together. “Last December.”

“Sorry.”

Then he bent over and pulled up his left pants leg. “First grade,” he said, pointing to a scar on his shin. He mentioned a couple other times when I'd done something to him, including the other day when I'd knocked him down by the lockers.

Now I felt bad. I guess it made sense that he'd remember getting hurt more than I'd remember hurting him. But I couldn't believe I'd been that rotten to him. I couldn't believe he was being this nice, either. “And you're still going to help me?” I asked.

“Yup.”

I didn't know what to say.

“Don't worry about it.” He waved at the door ahead of us. “Let's get started.”

I followed him inside and up to his room. Man. The place was just like the museum, only smaller. There were jars and bottles all over the room, and rocks and posters and hundreds of books. “This place reminds me of school,” I said.

“Thanks. Now, lift your shirt,” he said.

I pulled up my shirt and stood there while he stared at me and made the kind of sounds someone makes when he's thinking real hard. “Unfortunately, it seems to be progressing,” he said. Then he jumped back from me and said, “I mean, it's spreading.”