The only interesting part to me was how electrons are attracted to the protons by an electromagnetic force. It felt like an electromagnetic force was pulling at me to talk to Abhi. And the only thing that really mattered was convincing Abhi to talk to me. She’s pretty and smart and put José in his place. She had everything.
CHAPTER 5
COMPELLED
When the bell rang, the electromagnetic force compelled me to try to talk to Abhi again.
“Do you need help finding your next class?” I turned toward Abhi’s desk.
Her head was down, studying her schedule printout.
She didn’t answer. She just kept staring at her schedule, her shiny black curls falling over her face.
Oh, man, that was cold. She was acting like she didn’t even hear me. Mom does that sometimes when she’s really mad—gives you the silent treatment. But what did I do?
Abhi looked up and flinched, as if she were surprised to see me looking at her.
José tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked right at him. “Where do you go next, Abhi?”
“I go to gy …”
Before Abhi could finish responding to José, Blythe Balboa scooped up the schedule and wrapped her sweater arm around Abhi and dragged her into the hall. “Let’s go, Abhi. I’ll show you the best way to get to the gym.”
“Bye,” I mumbled. But she was gone.
I walked over to the door and watched her walk down the hall with Blythe. She talked to José and not me. But why? She doesn’t seem to be shy, and I was way nicer than José. But I guess she didn’t know that. The worst part was when I thought about it I knew why she wouldn’t talk to me. I am not so sure I’d talk to me at this point—fun facts or not.
Janie came up and hovered behind me. “‘May the force be with you.’ Star Wars, nineteen seventy-seven, starring Mr. Mark Hamill and Ms. Carrie Fisher.” She leaned closer. I could feel her warm breath. “Sound familiar?”
I understood Janie right then. She can’t stop saying movie lines, and I can’t stop trying to talk to Abhi. We were compelled. That’s the word Mr. Stankowitz kept using about protons and electrons.
I had to think of something to get through to Abhi. By now it was clear—even to me—that The Mission Distraction: San Antonio Fun Facts had been officially declared a disaster. What was I going to try next?
I knew I needed information, and I needed it now.
“Is Abhi from India?” I began interviewing Janie who still stood beside me.
“No,” Janie said, rolling her eyes. “But almost. She’s from Minneapolis.”
“Okay,” I nodded, memorizing the fact. Minneapolis. We watched Abhi and Blythe disappear around the corner. “Is she an only child like me?”
“No, she has a big brother in eighth grade who goes here.” Janie shook her head. “Zack, you’d think you’re the one who has trouble hearing.”
“What are you talking…?”
“Lesson one, Zack Delacruz,” Janie interrupted. “If you want a woman to listen to you, listen to her first.” And Janie stormed out of the interview so dramatically I could swear she had a cape trailing behind her.
I stood in the doorway wondering what makes Abhi so magnetic. And on top of that, why is Janie trying to help me? What’s she up to? I mean, I was one confused kid. I don’t even know Abhi. Well, I now know she’s from Minneapolis and she has a brother who goes here. And she doesn’t answer when I talk to her. My stomach gurgled.
Dazed, I stepped into the hall.
“Seek to get to class on time, Mr. Delacruz,” Principal Akins said.
“Yes, sir.”
But to tell you the truth, I was in no hurry to get to gym. After what had happened in the cafeteria, I cringed at the torture that was ahead. Gym is like the blacktop—too many students and only one Coach Ostraticki to watch over it. Okay, it’s two if you count his tarantula mustache separately.
It felt like I walked toward a firing squad in a movie. The music started blaring loud in my head again, like a mariachi band at a Mexican restaurant on the River Walk. And everyone had plenty of insults to shoot at me: my khakis ripping and my Champ the Choo-Choo thong showing.
I felt my forehead, hoping for a fever, but no such luck.
The bell rang as I swish-swished into the gym, ready to run for the locker room and change into my gym clothes. I couldn’t believe what I saw.
CHAPTER 6
THE FIRING SQUAD
Students, still in their school clothes, were lined up against the left wall and the right wall of the gym, like a firing line.
Wha’? It couldn’t be.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. Delacruz. It’s a no dress out day,” Coach O. said, his tarantula mustache dancing along. “We’re choosing teams for dodgeball.”
So it was a firing squad—middle school style. I hate dodgeball more than math homework, Brussels sprouts, or chin-ups.
Chewy Johnson emptied the red utility balls from a huge mesh bag. He lined up in the balls up in the middle of the shiny wooden floor.
Mom always says I am overdramatic. But seriously, dodgeball is like an old-fashioned execution. You stand in a lineup. Same. But instead of using bullets they shoot red utility balls, firing until you’re out of the game instead of dead. Pretty much the same. In case you haven’t figured it out, I am not very good at dodgeball. Let’s just say I am an easy target.
“I was wondering UNDER-where you were!” José sang: “Champ the Choo-Choo chones.” José touch counted each of his fingers. “That’s 4C. I’m going to call you 4C for short, because you’re already short.”
While I gave José the “shut up!” face, Coach O. blew his whistle to quiet everybody down. I leaned against the gym wall.
José and Blythe were captains. Again. They were almost finished choosing teams. Abhi and Cliché were already on Blythe’s team, leaning against the red mats that covered the gym wall. I tried to wave at Abhi, but before I got her attention, José pointed his finger at me, “Training pants, you’re on my team.”
I rolled my eyes and joined El Pollo Loco’s side slowly, as if I were walking through chocolate pudding.
And then Blythe chose Janie because she was the last one.
“Yeah, baby!” Janie clapped her hands together like she was in it to win it. It didn’t seem to bother her that she was a last-round draft pick.
When we played dodgeball, I was usually one of the first ones out, and today I was ready to be done with it all. Take me down, I thought to myself. But when I tried to jump in front of the firing balls, they’d miss me. When I tried to throw the ball so Cliché could catch it, I hit her in the shoulder instead. With her hand rubbing her shoulder she stared me down as she slid down the gym wall to sit with the other kids who were out.
“It was an accident.”
Her scowl deepened.
She didn’t seem to believe me. The weird thing was, the more I tried to lose, the better throws I made.
I became a red-utility-ball assassin.
“Play hard, 4C!” José yelled his support. At least it sounded like support.
And I played like a boss, dodging and throwing. Boom! I hit Blythe so hard her gold initial necklace swung up and nailed her on the forehead. My team laughed and patted me on the back, but Blythe looked at me like I had just stolen all the money from her student council pencil sales.
With all the cheers of support, a rush of confidence took control of my mouth: “Hate the player, not the game.”
“You tell her, Champ,” Sophia laughed. “But it’s hate the game, not the playuh.” Sophia smiled at me, turning to a scowl at Blythe, a not-so-subtle threat from our team.
I don’t know where all the force was coming from—maybe it was science at work. Maybe there were positive electrons spinning around me. Whatever it was. I picked off Chewy Johnson, and he wasn’t even playing. He was watching from the side. Then I nailed two other kids. I think I was beginning to like the power. I was dodgeballin’. Then Janie slammed one int
o Sophia.
“Out!” Coach Ostraticki yelled when Sophia didn’t sit down.
My team was down to José and me.
Blythe’s team had two, too: Janie and Abhi.
“Sorry, Janie,” I mumbled. “This will hurt me more than it will hurt you.” I hurled the red ball and smacked Janie’s thigh with an audible slap, the ball bounced up and bashed into one of the caged lights high on the gym ceiling. She eyeballed me as she stomped toward the sidelines.
“I’ll be back!” She stopped halfway to the wall. “Terminator 1 and 2, starring former governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger.” And then she sat, giving me the mal ojo—the evil eye—the whole time.
“Ah! Ha! HA!” José taunted loudly.
“Soto!” Coach Ostraticki blew an exclamation mark with his whistle at José. “I’m gonna take you out of the game if you don’t cut it out!”
Now Abhi was alone on the other team. Everyone on our team yelled. “Show her how we do it at Davy Crockett, Zack and El!”
“Yeah, give me a T and a T and a T! And a…!” Sophia yelled. “And another T. Go, go, go!” Sophia thrust imaginary pom-poms at us.
Coach Ostraticki tossed the ball to Abhi, so she could take the first shot. It was only fair.
José and I stood beside each other, waiting, rocking back and forth on our feet, ready to go this way or that to dodge the ball. Abhi threw the ball and it bounced right between José and me. Why I reached over and snatched that red ball, I’ll never know. José didn’t even try.
“Get her!” José roared, like he was avenging his father’s death in a movie.
All my team stood up on the sidelines, yelling and screaming. And all the shouting was getting to me. I thought about setting the ball on the gym floor and walking away.
But I didn’t.
I stood and bounced the ball a few times, thinking.
“Are you a quitter, Zack?” José taunted me. “Are you man or thong?”
“Yeah, go Champ!” Sophia yelled.
The blue-eye-shadow gang shouted, “Yeah, go Champ!”
I bounced the ball again.
“What are you waiting for, Dela-Loser?” José taunted.
I raised the ball to my face.
And all the frustration and embarrassment from the day made my skin burn. Why did every terrible thing seem to always happen to me? My eyes were getting wet. I wasn’t going to add crying to my fool portfolio. All my rage went into the red ball. I gripped it, not sure what to do. After all, I really didn’t want to hit her. I wanted to talk to her. But if I threw the ball too softly, people would say I had a crush on Abhi. Then they would start heckling me from the sidelines. Just like this stupid game of dodgeball, there was no way to win middle school. So, I chucked the ball low and away, so I would just miss her leg. But at that moment, Abhi jumped.
The ball smashed into her ankle, and her legs flew back from the force of the ball. She slammed facedown on the hard wooden floor with a boom like thunder.
The gym went silent.
CHAPTER 7
MAGIC TO DO
In the silence, I thought about how badly I wanted to explain to Abhi that it was an accident, a big misunderstanding. But nothing came out. I was just as shocked as everyone else.
Twice today I had made the loudest rooms in the whole school silent. And again, all eyes were on me. Maybe I needed to go back to fading into the cinder-block walls. This new, confident, out-there me was not working out the way I’d hoped. Like the sand crab in Mr. Stankowitz’s aquarium, I wanted nothing more than to hide under a shell.
Blythe pulled Abhi to her feet. Coach Ostraticki approached her. Tears streamed down Abhi’s face. Obviously they didn’t have dodgeball in Minneapolis. At least they didn’t have any chone-wearing-rotten-boys-who’d-throw-a-ball-so-hard-to-knock-her-off-her-feet kind.
I smacked my hand to my forehead: Welcome to San Antonio, Abhi, I thought. I’m Zack. I hope I gave you something else to remember me by.
“Next time take it easier on the new girl, Delacruz,” Coach Ostraticki said, shaking his head, as if I had just shoved an old lady into oncoming traffic.
“You’re a monster, Zack Delacruz!” Blythe screamed, hysterically.
I wanted to say I was sorry, but it all bottlenecked in my throat. I wondered if this was how it felt when you died.
“Balboa, that’s not helping.” Coach Ostraticki shook his head. He looked over Abhi, making sure she wasn’t bleeding. “No broken bones, so she’ll be okay.”
Abhi nodded and started crying harder.
“Should we call an ambulance?” Blythe asked.
Coach Ostraticki ignored Blythe’s question. “Balboa, when you can calm yourself down, please take Abhi to the girl’s locker room to sit down and catch her breath.”
José walked toward Abhi and Blythe.
“I never would’ve done that,” José said to Abhi. “My dad insists I be a gentleman all times.” He tossed his head over his shoulder toward me. “Sorry about Zack. He doesn’t know how to treat a lady.” He tapped his hand to his chest. “But I do.”
That wasn’t true at all. I was the one who knew how to treat ladies—I mean people. Nobody had to insist I act like a gentlemen because I already did.
Then it hit me like a dodgeball in the family jewels. Not today. Today, I took out the most interesting girl. Today, I slammed her face to the ground. Today, I made her cry. Today, I was that kid who won the dodgeball game for my team. But I wasn’t enjoying it—not even for a second—because I knew I had lost any chance at getting Abhi to talk to me now. It was no victory for me.
Blythe began leading Abhi away to the girl’s locker room, sneering at me as she passed, whispering, “Monster.”
I stepped toward Abhi.
“Stay away from her!” Blythe turned and yelled. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
Coach O. blew two quick whistles. “Everybody, let’s take two laps to remember how to be more sportsmanlike.”
“That’s just great, Zack,” mumbled Cliché. “First Marquis is absent, and now this. I never should’ve gotten out of bed this morning.”
It’s official: my life was over.
I stood in the center of the gym, frozen.
Janie walked up beside me.
I sighed. “I just wanted to talk to Abhi, and now I’ve ruined it forever.”
Janie nodded.
I looked up from the floor to Janie. “And I’m sorry I hit you so hard,”
“You hit everybody hard.” Janie noted. “Let’s get walking before Coach Ogre blows the whistle at us.”
Janie’s shoes squeaked on the gym floor as we rounded the corner. “Zack, I know something that would help you talk to Abhi for sure.” Her words buzzed in the air like a swarm of gnats, daring me to swat at them.
I couldn’t resist it. I was tapped out, obliterated, hopeless. What did I have to lose? “Okay, Janie. What can you do to help me fix this mess with Abhi?”
“I know things,” Janie said.
I squinted.
“Mysterious things,” she made her voice go all Halloween, echoey deep and low. Janie looked around to make sure nobody else could hear.
As if they’d want to.
“So what can you do?” I was desperate. Maybe I needed something mysterious or magical.
“My Aunt Monica is a curandera.”
I stopped walking and looked at Janie. “She’s a witch—a bruja?” I gasped.
“Noooo.” Janie shook her head. “Not really. She’s more like a doctor or a healer.”
“How?”
“Like once she cured my brother Tito’s cold by rubbing an uncracked egg all over his body.”
“That’s stupid. How’s an egg going to help a cold?”
“It’s science, Zack,” Janie leaned in so close I could feel her hot breath as she whispered, “Magic science.” Her fingers wiggled. “After Aunt Monica drew the sickness from Tito into the egg, she cracked it on a plate and placed it under the
futon, so the egg could extract the rest of the illness.”
“But I don’t have a cold.” I shrugged.
“So you don’t need an egg. Besides, a dozen eggs wouldn’t be enough for your case, Zack.” She pointed at me. “What you need is something special from the botanica.”
“Huh?”
“The botanica. It’s a shop with a lot of herbs and oils and candles.” Janie dramatically flashed both hands in front of her face. “Stuff with special powers.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“I know where it is because I’ve been there before with my Aunt Monica. Trust me, the botanica has just what you need, Zack.”
“Why are you being so nice to me, Janie?” I asked.
“I already have to go to the botanica tomorrow after school anyway. I’m getting something for my Fall Fiesta-val booth.”
“What does the botanica have to do with the Fall Fiesta-val?”
“Only Madame Bustamante knows,” Janie’s voice went deep and she rubbed her hands together. And then, like that, her voice went back to normal. “So are you coming or not?”
“I don’t know, Janie.”
“I do know.” She closed her eyes and pressed two fingers to each side of her head. “Madame Bustamante is getting a vision. It’s tomorrow … after school, and I see … yes, I see you, Zack Delacruz. And you’re getting on the VIA bus with me.” Janie shook her head as she came out of her vision. Opening her eyes, she pointed at José, who sprang up and down, trying to grab hold of the basketball net. “I’d come if I were you. He-who-jumps is already trying to impress the new girl.”
“Janie, that’s sounds—”
“Invite Marquis,” she interrupted, “if you want.”
That was all I needed to hear. Now the whole adventure sounded way less wacky. Marquis is like ranch dressing; he makes everything better. And I was ready to try anything after today.
Just My Luck Page 3
