Egghead

by Caroline Pignat

  He probably asked me so I'd do the project for him. Just like how I have to write the worm report conclusion he totally "forgot" about. Or maybe it was just a big joke to ask the geeky girl. Devan Mitchell could have any girl he wanted in the school. Well, ninth grade at least. Shane probably put him up to it.

  Devan left to wash his shoes and never came back. Erin was at the nurse's. So it was up to Will and me to clean up after our group. Typical. After everything was cleared away I told Will I just had to run to the washroom. I left the lab and headed down the hall.

  Shane sat against the lockers outside Mr. Peloso's room—he was probably kicked out. He glared at me and stood. I looked the other way as I walked past, my stomach in knots. His sneakers squeaked behind, following me down the empty hall. My heart pounded as my imagination raced. What's he doing? Why's he following me?

  It took everything I had not to run. I didn't want him to know he was getting to me, but he was. I turned into the girls' washroom and quickly locked the door behind me, unsure if I wanted to pee or throw up. I rinsed my face in cold water and waited. The bell was going to ring any second. I figured it would be safer to go back out in a crowd.

  Will and I had been doing our best to avoid Shane the past few weeks. It was one of the "strategies" Will said Mr. Spence gave him. But they weren't working out all that well.

  1. Report all incidents.

  But Will refused to say anything or name names.

  2. Avoid the antagonist.

  That never worked. Shane seemed to seek Will out.

  3. Talk to your parents.

  As if! I couldn't see Will sharing any of this with his dad.

  4. Stay with a group.

  Didn't Mr. Spence see? All Will had was me and what help was I?

  5. Use humor.

  Right. Humor wasn't one of Will's strong points.

  6. Use positive self-talk.

  I knew Will used this one. Or tried to, at least. I heard his voice in the empty hall yesterday afternoon. "I am a good person. I am smart. People like me."

  Mr. Spence told Will the teachers were informed and would be looking out for him, but I didn't see any of that either. I don't think our new teachers knew much about any of us. With so many grades and classes to teach, I was surprised they even knew our names. I missed Mr. Donlan's gold stars. I missed staying in to cut bubble letters for his bulletin boards. I even missed his corny titles like Measurement Rules or Geology Rocks.

  Mr. Donlan knew us. He knew our families. It mattered to him whether or not we had done our homework, ate a good breakfast, or felt sad. Grade nine teachers didn't care if we ran out without a hat, left projects till the night before, or ate all of our lunches. We were a few faceless kids out of hundreds. Names and numbers on a list. None of them, not one of my new teachers, ever asked how Dad was doing. Or me. I doubted they even knew Dad was sick. I guess they were just too busy.

  The bell finally rang. I unlocked the door and joined the crowd in the hall. Shane was gone.

  "Katie, you should see the tunnels they've made," Will said, as I entered the lab. "The nursery workers have been sorting and moving the young all week. They'll be hatching just in time."

  Will picked up his books and headed for the door. "So, you're coming tonight, right? Wait till you see them in the new ant farm, Katie. They just love it." His enthusiasm was contagious.

  "I think we'll place in the science fair," I said, not wanting to jinx it. I wanted so badly to win, to make Dad proud.

  "Place?" Will said, and shook his head. "Who else has been working on a project since last year? Who else has three generations of ants? Who else is going to give the judges a front row seat to metamorphosis?" He held the door for me.

  "So you think we'll place first?" I asked.

  He smiled. "Who else?"

  Devan

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  Devan

  "No way." Shane says to me at lunch. "No. Way." He laughs. "That, my friend, is friggin' disgusting."

  "I know," I look at my wet shoes. "I'm gonna have to throw them out."

  "Not the barf, loser," Shane says through a mouthful of chips. That was all he ever ate for lunch. Chips and a pop he ripped off some kid. "Egghead and Katie." He shakes his head. "Man, why any girl, even McGeek, would want to go out with that guy is beyond me."

  "They aren't going out. They're just doing a science fair project together."

  I never told Shane I got shot down or that I even asked her to be my partner. He wouldn't understand. So I give him the same explanation Katie gave me just before I left to clean up. "They incubated some larvae in grade eight. I guess they're just extending on that project with the colony?"

  Shane's mouth drops open. He stares at me and then raises one eyebrow. "Incubating larvae? Extending on a project with the colony?" He's making air quotations as if those words aren't even English. "Listen to you, brainiac." He rolls his eyes. "You don't even know what the hell you're talking about."

  "Yeah." I laugh. It isn't funny, but I laugh just the same. Truth is, Shane doesn't know what the hell I am talking about.

  "When's the science fair?" he asks. Something is brewing in the back of his mind.

  "End of the month."

  "Good," he says, emptying the crumbs in his mouth and wiping his chin. "That gives me a few weeks to come up with a plan, while you do our project." He stops to give some kid a wedgie. "What's it on, anyway?"

  "Animation," I mumble, watching the kid head for the washroom, bowlegged and butt-numb, like he just got off a horse.

  "Wicked." Shane says, slapping me on the back. "I love cartoons."

  Katie

  "Don't you see?" Jenna explained as we walked home. "You are totally acting like his girlfriend." She counted off the evidence on her fingers. "You are lab partners, you've seen him naked—"

  "He wasn't naked," I interrupted. "He had on—"

  "Well, whatever," she continued. "In his underwear then. You are partners for the science fair. You stood up to Shane for him. And now you're going on a date?"

  "It's not a date. We're working on our project."

  "Well, you never got invited to his house before."

  "Mr. Donlan let us work on it at school last year." I said. I couldn't figure out why Jenna was making such a big deal of it. We'd even asked her to join us, but she said she was doing "The Telephone" with Isabella Montana, a girl she'd just met.

  "Will is just a friend." I finally said. "Not even. He's more like my little brother."

  "Well, duh!" Jenna rolled her eyes. "I know you don't like him that way. But the more time and attention you give that weirdo, the more other people are going to start thinking of you guys as a couple."

  "Part-ners," I stressed, "not couple."

  Jenna shrugged. "Once everyone believes it—well, it might as well be true." She stopped and looked me square in the eyes. "And I sure wouldn't want anyone saying that about any friend of mine." She headed up her driveway and didn't look back.

  At first, I thought she was concerned about me, but as I walked on to Will's house, I realized what she was really saying. Jenna wouldn't be my friend if I was Will's.

  I don't know what annoyed me more; that people cared about who I was or wasn't friends with, or that I cared what they cared.

  I did the right thing helping Will, didn't I?

  He knows we're just project partners, right?

  My mind started spinning as I reached his street. What if she is right? What if people started treating me like Will?

  I didn't know what to think. But I did know that I'd hate to be labeled as Mrs. Egghead for
the rest of my life. I kicked a crab apple off the path.

  We never had these problems last year. Jenna and I were best friends. And Will was just ... well ... Will.

  Why do things have to change?

  I climbed the steps to the big stone house and rang the bell. Will was expecting me. Our eggs were hatching.

  Only now I wasn't as excited about seeing them.

  His dad answered. He gave me a strange look over his reading glasses, like I was the one who'd been running around the school in my underwear.

  I shifted from foot to foot. "Uh ... hi, Professor Reid."

  "Will is in the solarium," he said and walked back down the hall. "I'll be in the study if you need me."

  I didn't know what or where the solarium was, but I was not about to ask. I wandered down the hall. Their house was interesting. Not like anywhere you'd think a kid would live. But then again, this was Will's place, and he wasn't like any kid I knew.

  The ticking of the grandfather clock echoed around the walls. It was the loudest clock I'd ever heard, or maybe it was just that their house was so quiet. I stopped to look at a family portrait over the fireplace. It was from a few years ago, before Mrs. Reid died. Will was never the same after the accident. My mother died when I was born. I never knew her, not in person anyway. Maybe it's better that way, I thought, remembering how Will still struggled with that grief. Maybe it is better not to know what you are missing.

  "Hello, Katie."

  I jumped at the sound of Will's voice. He seemed so happy to see me. Almost too happy.

  Maybe this isn't such a good idea. Maybe Jenna is right.

  "Your dad ... um ..." I stammered.

  He knows we're partners, right? Like this isn't a date or anything.

  I didn't know where to look. "Professor Reid ... in the study ..."

  " ... with the lead pipe," Will added, his blue eyes laughing. We'd often played Clue on rainy day recesses in Mr. Donlan's class. "You think that's bad," Will said, scooping up a fat blonde cat. "I just found Colonel Mustard in the lavatory drinking from the bowl!"

  We burst out laughing and I knew everything was going to be okay. Will was still Will. He hadn't changed.

  We hadn't changed.

  William James Reid

  Ant Farm

  They tunnel in darkness,

  trusting

  their path is right,

  knowing

  they will eventually

  connect.

  They create their world

  one grain at a time.

  So close,

  and yet,

  so unaware

  that I am watching

  and smiling.

  It makes me wonder

  if someone close to me

  might be watching—

  and smiling.

  Devan

  I knock on Shane's screen door and sit on the step. He's always late. If I didn't come pick him up, he'd probably never make the bus.

  I didn't think much about Shane's "plans" for the science fair. I got enough to worry about, getting "our" project together. Luckily Dad has a friend who owns an animation studio. He took me on the weekend. I got a ton of neat stuff. Storyboards. Model sheets. Even a clip from the show. But I still have to work on the presentation. And the science fair is less than a week away.

  Now I know what Katie meant about getting stuck with a partner where you do all the work. Egghead's a weirdo and all, but I bet he does his fair share.

  "I don't have to listen to you! You're not my father!" Shane barges out and slams the screen door behind him. "C'mon," he yanks my arm. "Let's go."

  Blood trickles from a cut at the corner of his mouth. He's hurrying me down the driveway just as the screen door explodes open. We start running.

  "Yeah, you better run, you little bastard!" It's Riley, Shane's mom's boyfriend. His massive shoulders fill the entire door frame. "You'll be sorry. You good-for-nothing little—"

  We don't hang around to hear the rest. Not that we haven't heard it all before.

  Shave a bear and you'd get Riley. He moved in about a year ago, when Shane started missing school. I never asked him about it, but I knew. That's when I started seeing the bruises on his face and arms. Bruises from bear wrestling, if you know what I mean. I don't know what his mom sees in that guy. Neither does Shane. But we don't talk about it much.

  All I am saying is that only a smart kid, a real smart kid, can survive the kind of life Shane is living. He might have failed grade eight once, but Shane is the smartest guy I know. Only those smarts aren't the kind teachers like.

  We run around the corner and slow to a walk. "What's his problem?" I ask.

  "The principal called." Shane picks up a rock and chucks it at the bus stop sign. "Wanted to `discuss my behavior' with Riley. Riley! Can you believe it?"

  "Why didn't Spence speak to your mom?" I ask.

  Shane shrugs. "Riley wasn't saying much on the phone, just stuff like: `Zero tolerance, I agree.' His face got redder by the second. `Oh, I'll talk to Shane, Mr. Spence. Don't worry about that.' He goes staring me down across the room. Then as soon as the phone is down, he comes at me all fired up because I'd hurt some kid he doesn't even know?'

  "Who ratted you out—did he say?" It could have been anyone, really. It's only October and already every grade nine kid knows Shane Duran. Just yesterday, he pantsed Martin, stuck a pair of pink underwear on Egghead's locker, and tossed some other kid in the dumpster. All before third period. That kid deserved' it, though. He stank. Take a freakin' shower, man!

  Last week, I still don't know how, Shane even managed to get Paulo DiPalma to start a food fight. Paulo. The guy's own mother is a lunch monitor! Man, she sure wasn't happy. Got clocked square in the face with a fruit cup and dropped like a hockey bag. That's got to hurt. She even got two black eyes. Not that we ever saw her again. But I heard from Paulo. Way I see it, Shane did him a favor. Who wants their mom watching them hang at school, making sure they eat their sandwich crusts? No, thanks.

  So, like I said, it really could have been anyone that ratted out Shane.

  "It's Egghead," Shane says through clenched teeth. He's got that look in his eye. "I just know it," he mutters as the bus stopped in front of us. "He'll be sorry. Won't know what hit him. The good for nothing little—"

  I don't wait to hear the rest. It sounds way too familiar.

  The second we're off the bus, Shane makes a beeline for Egghead's locker.

  Katie

  Jenna checked her hair in my locker mirror while I piled books into my arms.

  "Did you know Isabella is Mike Montana's sister?" She tried to sound surprised. As if she didn't know. She knew everything else about the guy—he wore number 22, he played senior boys basketball, his locker was on the third floor. Jenna had dog-eared every page in her sister's yearbook that had Mike's picture. Yet amazingly she had just discovered the love of her life had a sister, who happened to be her very own science fair partner.

  What a coincidence.

  For some crazy reason, maybe puberty, Jenna thought she had a chance of finding true love with a senior. Unlike her Sixteen Magazine heartthrobs, Mike was, after all, right here in the same building. I just didn't have the heart to tell her she'd have more luck getting a movie star to ask her out. Even the makeup she'd just put on in the washroom didn't help. Jenna looked like what she was—what we both were. Grade nine tourists, totally lost in the world of teenagers.

  "I don't know why you even have a locker," Jenna said as I heaved my stuff onto my hip and slammed the door shut with my foot. "You carry everything." She showed me her tiny, pink purse and matching clipboard. We both knew five minutes into class she'd be asking me for a pen and paper.

  Neither of us had mentioned Will and I wasn't about to bring it up. Whether she liked it or not, Will and I were working on our project. But I did decide to avoid Will a bit more at school, just in case. Just so no one would take it the wrong way.

  "I know it was you!" S
hane's voice echoed in the hall as he and Devan blew past me, stopping up ahead. Kids gathered around, elbowing in for a ringside seat as Shane shoved Will up against the lockers

  "Come on," Jenna said, pulling me in the opposite direction. "This doesn't have anything to do with us."

  I let her lead me away, trying to convince myself that Will could take care of himself.

  Yeah, right.

  That, if things went bad, somebody in that crowd would do something to help.

  As if.

  That Will didn't know I was there, and wouldn't know that I had abandoned him.

  I abandoned him.

  The truth of it hit me about as hard as he was hitting the lockers.

  Shane had him by the neck. "If you ever ..." SLAM! " . . . ever . . ." SLAM! " . . . EVER go crying to Spence again it'll be the last thing you do!"

  "I didn't ... I didn't ..." Will's words choked in his throat as his face turned darker shades of red.

  Everyone else just stood around watching. Why wasn't somebody stopping it?

  "Don't!" Jenna cried, but not at Shane. She grabbed my wrist. My books fell to the floor as I pulled away. "Katie, don't!" she pleaded, but I was already running back.

  Somebody had to do something, even if that somebody was me.

  William James Reid

  The Samurai Ant

  The Samurai ant

  is large

  and strong.

  Its mandibles are smooth,

  perfect for fighting,

  but not for digging,

  carrying,

  or building.

  A Samurai ant

  cannot even feed itself.

  Its colony

  would die

  if it did not

  enslave other ants.

  They

  are its source

  of power,

  strength

  and support.

  Too bad the other ants

  don't know.

  Devan

  "Leave him alone!" someone shouts from behind me.

  It's Katie.