Bully Bait

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Bully Bait Page 9

by Michael Fry


  harmless. Almost.

  Molly walked over to Roy and started to hand

  him the pig, then pulled it back. She said, “No

  more tying my shoes together or hanging up Karl

  by his underwear.”

  “Promise,” said Roy.

  “And no more stuffing me in my locker,” I

  added.

  “What about before gym?” asked Roy.

  I had to think about that. “Okay,” I said. “But

  only before gym. And no more shoving me in! I

  can stuff myself in a locker.”

  Roy said, “Deal.”

  Molly, Karl, and I said, “Deal.”

  Molly handed

  Oinkdexter to Roy. Molly,

  Becky, and I witnessed the

  reunion between boy and

  pig. It was awkward to

  watch.

  “Where’s Karl?” asked

  Becky.

  We turned around and

  found him in a power hug with

  Willy.

  Roy and I quickly uncoiled

  Willy and returned him to his

  cage.

  As we walked back to the

  others I asked Roy, “You never

  see your mom?”

  Roy stopped, smiled, and raised Oinkdexter in

  the air.

  And that’s when I finally understood. Roy

  didn’t see his mother. Mr. Dupree wasn’t crazy

  after all. A lie can tell the truth.

  “Ah, guys?” said Karl. “Hey, guys.”

  Roy and I looked over to see pretty much the

  entire school staring at us. Standing in front

  were Dr. Daniels and Mr. Dupree. I couldn’t be

  sure, but I swear Mr. Dupree winked at me.

  We all looked at each other. Then we looked

  back at the crowd and did what all sane kids do

  when nothing good will come from anything we

  say.

  Chapter 37

  Our shrugs cost us all three weeks’ detention.

  Roy and I got weekly bossy-girl Peer Mediation

  and daily one-on-ones with Dr. Daniels.

  Except for the bossy girls, it’s not so bad.

  Those girls really get on Roy’s and my nerves.

  But we can handle it.

  The more time I spend with Roy, the more I

  realize he’s not such a bad guy. I’m not saying

  we’re BFFs or anything. I mean, we both have

  reputations to maintain. He has to occasionally

  let me stuff myself in my locker. And I have to

  occasionally call him a tot-brained snot-squid.

  Sometimes in detention if none of his snot-

  squid pals are around, we can talk about stuff.

  And one thing we talk about a lot is Emily.

  A couple of days after the cafetorium thing, as

  Roy was gently encouraging me into my locker, I

  showed him texts I got from Becky:

  Becky: U did the right thing.

  Nick: I wouldn’t have been able 2 if you hadn’t

  released the python.

  Becky: I didn’t release the python.

  Nick: Who did?

  Becky: Emily?

  Roy nodded. “Emily’s got skills.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I mean, I get what you said in

  the ductwork, but that still doesn’t make her

  real.”

  “Then who released Willy?”

  I shrugged. “I checked with Molly. She didn’t

  do it. Karl said he would never take credit for

  something Emily did. He said it would be rude.”

  “You’re running out of suspects,” said Roy.

  “That only leaves Mr. Dupree. I thought it

  was him all along. And then I didn’t. And then I

  thought it HAD to be him, until I made a list of

  all the Emily stuff that’s happened.”

  “I realized if it were him, he’d be arrested for

  child endangerment. Mr. Dupree may be crazy,

  but he’s not that crazy.”

  “You realize that means it couldn’t be a

  teacher or another staff person for the same

  reason. Dude, Emily’s real,” said Roy.

  “She’s a myth,” I said as I crawled into my

  locker. “She’s just a story kids make up to

  explain stuff they can’t explain themselves.”

  “Works for me,” Roy said as he shut the locker

  door. “Later, dude.”

  Alone, in the dark of my locker, I ran through

  the Emily suspects again. If it couldn’t be an

  adult, that only leaves a kid who’d have to be

  supersmart, have the run of the school, and be

  practically invisible.

  That would be a superkid.

  acknowledgments

  Writing The Odd Squad: Bully Bait has been a pleasure. A pleasure made especially pleasant by the help and support of several key people.

  I am deeply indebted to my agent, Dan Lazar. He truly is the hardest-working man in show business. I have never had anyone work as hard on my behalf as Dan has. He is a rock star (without the attitude OR the too tight pants).

  This book would be a shell of its present self without the heroic efforts of my fast-talking editor, Lisa Yoskowitz. She has the spooky knack of knowing where I want to go before I want to go there. I am eternally grateful for her patience, intelligence, and making me look like a way better writer than I am. Oh . . . and I’m also grateful for her laugh—always at just the right time.

  A big thank-you to Marci Senders for the terrific job she did designing the cover, as well as for her patience with lost files, wrong-resolution art, and my inability to render a brave yet mischievous expression.

  A thank-you to everyone at Disney•Hyperion who helped make this book come to life and somehow miraculously get into readers’ hands. I think magic elves were involved. I’m not sure.

  Thank you to friends Halley, Thomas, Sarah, Jeff, Cyndy, Bozena, Tutta, Kara, Dan, Bill, Ces, Sue, Roy and Neva. It takes a village to make an idiot. Or something.

  I’d like to thank my family as well. My daughters, Sarah and Emily, both read early drafts and didn’t once throw up or laugh in my face. They each, however, did make constructive comments using the words “lame,” “gross,” and just occasionally “awesome.” My wife, Kim, a veteran at dealing with my insecurities and neuroses, specializes in the loving fake laugh. I know it’s fake. She knows it’s fake. It doesn’t matter. It’s a laugh. And she knows that sometimes it’s exactly what I need. And she’s right. She’s always right.

  Finally, I want to thank my mom. She read every draft. She followed every twist and turn on the path to publication. She listened and encouraged and cheered. I’m so thankful that I was able to share this journey with her. And even though she’s my mom and she’s supposed to love everything I do, I’m pretty sure she really, really likes this book. But not as much as her San Francisco Giants.

  Let’s not get crazy here.

  spent middle school as a geeky, nerdy Chess Club member who played the French horn and survived (mostly intact).

  His school days behind him, Mike is the co- creator and writer of several comic strips, including Over the Hedge, which is featured in newspapers nationwide and was adapted into the hit animated movie of the same name. In addition to working as a cartoonist, Mike is the co-founder of RingTales, a company that animates print comics for all digital media, and is an active blogger, tweeter, and public speaker, as well as the proud father of two adult daughters.

  Originally from Minneapolis, Mike currently lives with his wife in Austin, Texas, where he is hard at work on the next Odd Squad adventure.

  Meet Nick

  He’s the shortest middle-schooler in

  the history of the world (pr
obably),

  doesn’t fit in with any groups or clubs

  (who needs ’em?), and gets stuffed into his locker

  a lot (it’s roomier than you’d think).

  Life goes from bad to worse when Nick’s

  guidance counselor makes him join the school’s

  lamest club, with only freakishly tall Molly and

  hopelessly clueless Karl for company. But it

  can’t get even worse, right?

  Well, you’d be surprised. . . .

  Cover illustration © 2013 by Michael Fry

  Cover design by Marci Senders

  Disney • Hyperion Books

  New York

  Visit www.disneyhyperionbooks.com

 

 

 


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