The Double Life of Danny Day

by Mike Thayer

  Some things needed to be implemented the very next day, like hiding the permanent markers from my sisters, while others were longer-range goals, like staying off Dud Spuds and winning the Brown Bag Game. Having at least one long-range goal that involved kicking butt at a video game was always a good thing. Taking on Jaxson and Braxlynn during a sticky day would require a near-impossible degree of leveling up, but there might be something I could do about this Noah kid.

  “Well, I better get to it,” I told myself as I got my phone out and opened up Champions Royale. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

  CHAPTER 5

  STICKY DAY

  (Sticky Monday—Sept. 6th)

  “This is gonna be great,” my dad said, pulling up to Snake River Middle School. “Your first day as a Spud.”

  “I feel pretty good about it, too,” I said, matching his enthusiasm. “I’m nervous, but excited to finally start our life here in Idaho.”

  My dad parked the car and turned to me. “That’s the spirit, buddy. I know you can be a bit shy sometimes, but try to make some new friends, okay? They’re out there. You’ve just got to find them.”

  “Sure thing, Dad,” I said, remembering my last line. I needed to take care of this in the car so he wouldn’t yell anything in front of the other students. “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, buddy.”

  I got out of the car and walked toward school. When I had a lot of notes from the discard day, the sticky day always felt a little like some kind of living performance where I had to find my mark and recite my lines. Most people got anxious because they didn’t know what was going to happen on any given day, Sticky Danny was anxious because he knew exactly what was going to happen and had to make sure he didn’t screw it up even worse.

  A car honked three times, and I turned to see my dad waving through an open window. “Go, Spuds!”

  A few kids snickered around me, and I copied their laughs. “Wouldn’t want to be that guy’s kid,” I said to no one. Sometimes an embarrassing comment from my dad was just inescapable. I always tried to go into sticky days with backup plans for my backup plans.

  I bypassed the front desk this time and went straight to my locker, deposited a few books, and made my way through the crowd to classroom 013. I waited patiently in front of the class until the final bell rang. It was a weird thing to look out at people who should know me (like Jaxson, Noah, Freddie, and Braxlynn) but didn’t recognize me at all.

  “Good morning, students,” Mrs. Marlow announced from her desk, clapping three times. The class repeated their reply. “Class, we have a new … Braxlynn, please put away your phone.”

  I watched the familiar scene play out. After Braxlynn finally did what she was told, Mrs. Marlow addressed the class again. “This is Daniel Day. His family just moved to Poky. Daniel, would you like to tell us some more about yourself?”

  “I’m Danny from just outside of Conroe, Texas,” I said, clearing my throat, “which is just outside of Houston. I like video games and Ping-Pong, and I’ve never seen snow.”

  “Oh, well we’ll be sure to scratch that last one off your list come winter, won’t we, class?” Mrs. Marlow predictably replied.

  “Oh, and I can read people’s minds,” I added. My voice shook ever so slightly as I tried to stick as close as possible to what I had said and how I had said it the day before. I typically didn’t care or even need to stick this close to the discard-day script, but when I did tricks like guessing what people were thinking, it helped if I could accurately re-create the conditions from the discard day. Over the years I found the timeline to be pretty resilient, though. Unless I took the day hardcore in a different direction, it was amazing how many things seemed to proceed down the same path.

  “You what?” Mrs. Marlow asked.

  “I know it seems weird, but I can one hundred percent read people’s minds,” I said, turning from Mrs. Marlow to the students. I wiped my sweaty palms against my thighs and hoped no one noticed. “Dead serious.”

  The same three students raised their hands, and I could see Noah leaning forward to make his comment.

  “Oh yeah, Professor X, then what am I thinking?”

  “I will take that as a compliment,” I mumbled, turning to the three other students. “I just need you to tell me your name, jot something down on a piece of paper, and then I’ll guess what you wrote.”

  Noah grinned. “My name’s Noah.”

  The other three students, Shar, Amy, and Carrie, told me their names and then wrote their sentences down.

  “Okay, Professor X. What’d we write?” Noah said. It was the exact phrase from the discard day. I was one hundred percent sure they’d written down the same things. I opened my mouth to say something to Noah, but I hesitated. I wanted to put him in his place, to embarrass him in front of the class and make it stick, but I … couldn’t. Well, Sticky Danny couldn’t. It had been so easy to do the day before. To poke fun, to take risks, to be courageous, to take the bullies down a few notches. I hadn’t even thought about the consequences. There was nothing anyone could do to me that wasn’t tolerable for half a day, but this was the sticky day. Anything I did here was for real. It was for keeps.

  My heart began thundering in my chest, and I turned my thoughts and eyes from Noah to the three other students. I rubbed my chin and squinted my eyes. “Shar wrote down, ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.’ Amy wrote, ‘There’s no way you’ll guess what I wrote.’ And Carrie wrote, ‘Why doesn’t Pocatello have a Chick-fil-A?’ Was I close?”

  The class slowly turned from me to the three girls, who sat still as statues and gawked in amazement.

  “There’s no way,” Shar, a short girl with straight brown hair, finally managed.

  Amy looked from side to side and then behind her, searching for some explanation. “How’d you do that?”

  Carrie remained silent, her mouth open, looking from her paper to me and back.

  I shrugged. “Call it a Texas party trick.”

  “You never guessed what I wrote, Professor Tex.”

  I turned and saw Noah brandishing his little paper. He had no idea that I knew exactly what was on that paper, word for word, spelling error and all. He could never guess that I was already two steps ahead with a dozen different things to say already planned out. Doing the trick for the three girls and the rest of the class was simple. They’d think it was cool. It would earn me some easy street cred on my very first day. But Noah was different. Knowing that goading him would only cause permanent sticky-day problems, I bit my tongue. Even if I just predicted what was on his paper, that could still create problems. Kids like Noah, Jaxson, and Braxlynn didn’t like being shown up or making a mistake in front of a crowd. I knew from the discard day that Noah wasn’t used to losing, and even though I wanted desperately to introduce him to a new way of life, I just couldn’t will my sticky-day self into action. If I wanted to avoid making an enemy, I would have to let Noah win this one, and probably a lot of other ones.

  I squinted again and acted like I was struggling for an answer. “I don’t know for sure on this one. Something about how you’re good at video games?”

  “Wrong!” Noah gloated. “Although you are right about me being incredible at video games!”

  “Noah,” Mrs. Marlow chided. “Let’s try to be more encouraging to our new student. Be a buddy, not a bully, please. Danny, that was a fantastic little trick. We’re excited to have you on board. Now if you’ll please take your seat … as long as there aren’t any rabbits you’re going to magically pull out of your backpack.”

  “No rabbits, Mrs. Marlow,” I said, unzipping my backpack to show her inside. The class laughed, and I walked to the back of the room, a trail of impressed whispers in my wake. I sat down and stared at the back of Jaxson’s head. I apparently hadn’t been sufficiently mean-spirited to deserve a high five from the alpha bully today. All the better. Staying off his radar on sticky days was a top priority.

  I didn’t even dare tu
rn my head in Braxlynn’s direction. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see her with her phone out. It would have been noble to do something to help out Mrs. Shrek, or at least that’s what people would be calling the girl a few rows in front of Braxlynn by the end of the day. But nobility was also a great way to tangle yourself up in other people’s messes, a goal that Sticky Danny avoided like baggy jeans at a rodeo.

  To my right, Noah showed his paper to a few kids and flashed a cocksure smile. I pulled out my sticky-day notebook, flipped to my daily list, checked off one box, and retraced the words on another.

  ☑ Perform a standard “guess trick” with Shar, Amy, and Carrie

  ☐ Dethrone SpudMasterFlex

  I didn’t know how I would ever get the guts to actually check the second box. Not on a sticky day. Not when it counted. I cursed my sticky-day self for being such a wuss. Mrs. Marlow turned to write something on the whiteboard, and I tried to put the thought from my mind. I had a lot of things to try to get right today, which meant there were a lot of things I could get wrong if I wasn’t careful. I read back through my sticky-day notes for my next steps. This day was far from over.

  CHAPTER 6

  FRIENDS

  (Sticky Monday—Sept. 6th)

  “Could I trouble you for a double helping of them Tater Tots and peaches?” I asked, dialing up my Texas accent. The storklike lunch lady tilted her head and smiled as she piled on two scoops of the crispy, golden tots and gave me an extra bowl of peaches. I was quickly learning that a little Texas charm went a long way up in Idaho. I walked over to the gamer tables and took the closest seat to Noah I could find.

  I passed the brown bag along without putting in any money and kept my phone in my pocket. I’d played nearly four hours of Champions Royale yesterday, but I knew as well as anyone that I’d need more than a few hours of practice to beat the infamous SpudMasterFlex. However much I hated to admit it, the dude was a legit gamer. I was itching to test my skills (especially my sniping), but my plan wasn’t just to eventually defeat Noah, it was to do it in spectacular fashion—if I ever got the courage.

  The game started, and Noah immediately began shouting out insults every time he eliminated a player … which was often. My plan to watch his gameplay and pick up on his strategy was a bust as he had one of those polarized privacy screens and pulled his phone right into his chest. For a guy who loved to show off and gloat, I found it odd he would be so secretive about his screen.

  “Sit down, son!” Noah yelled, and pumped his fist.

  Not getting anything from Noah—other than the growing desire to give him a throat punch—I left my lunch for a second and walked around the table, taking in the action by glancing over a few kids’ shoulders. The ending changed slightly without me in the game. FreddieCougar got fifth instead of fourth and SpudMasterFlex racked up twelve kills instead of nine, but the end result was the same. If I was going to outplay Noah, I was going to need some serious help.

  Noah taunted a few kids as he walked by before stopping at Freddie. I knew what was coming, how mean it was going to be, how much Freddie didn’t deserve any of it. Some brave discard-day part of me took half a step forward before I caught myself, wavering like a little kid with his toes at the edge of the high dive. I wanted to help. I had the knowledge to help. But I couldn’t risk it. Not on a sticky day.

  “Thanks for the two-dollar donation,” Noah said, shaking the brown bag in front of Freddie’s face. “I hope this wasn’t your laundry money, because you ree-e-k!” Noah plugged his nose and walked away just as he’d done the day before.

  I went back, grabbed my lunch, and made my way over to Freddie. I told myself it was because I wanted to get more info on Noah and the Brown Bag Game, but I knew full well it was more about trying to get rid of my guilt for not sticking up for her. “Hey, which player were you?”

  “Huh?” Freddie said, her face a mask of surprise. From what I had seen, not a lot of people just walked up and chatted with Freddie. “Uh, FreddieCougar.”

  “Like the scary dude in the movies with the melted face and knives on his fingers?”

  “Yeah,” she said, perking up. “No one ever gets that reference.”

  “Texcalibur,” I said, holding my hand out.

  She shook it, and her eyes widened with recognition. “Oh hey, you’re that new kid who did the mind-reading trick in Mrs. Marlow’s class. That was pig-stickin’ crazy. How’d you do that, seriously?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you that I just transferred here from Hogwarts?”

  Freddie giggled. “No, I don’t think I would.”

  “Well, then you probably wouldn’t believe the actual answer,” I said, glancing at Freddie’s old, busted-up phone. “You did pretty well. Top five.”

  “Yeah”—Freddie gave a dejected smile—“that’s like one of the best I’ve ever done, but it’s all or nothing with the Brown Bag Game. Noah is good, but no one is that good. He wins all the time. It’s so frigging annoying. Ratbag cow poop! I just don’t dog-digging get it.”

  I chuckled at Freddie’s word choices. “Ratbag cow poop?”

  “Sorry.” Freddie hunched her shoulders. “My older brothers cuss like crazy, but my grandma told me that ladies shouldn’t do that, so I just invent my own phrases.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “Do you think you could teach me?”

  “What, to cuss?” Freddie asked.

  I laughed. “No, to play Champions Royale. I’ve got a gamertag and everything and I’m a pretty quick learner when it comes to games, but I could use someone to show me the tips and tricks before I toss my dollars in the bag. Maybe we could take down SpudMasterFlex together.”

  “Really?” Freddie perked up. “Like, you want to come over to my house and stuff? I mean, if it’s not weird or anything that I’m a girl.”

  “A gamer’s a gamer. Doesn’t bother me.” I had no idea whether I was actually going to go over to this girl’s house to play games, but after all the bullying I’d seen since showing up at school, I’d take friends where I could get them, and it seemed like Freddie would do the same.

  Freddie smiled and nodded her head. “Cool. I’ll message you my info. I’ve never really had a teammate before. This is gonna be awesome.”

  “Wait, there’s teams?” I asked. “I thought it was every man for themselves.”

  Freddie shrugged. “Well, yeah, in the end there’s only one winner, but it’s not like you’re gunning for your best friend first thing. People aren’t walking around in squads or sharing guns and ammo or anything, but there’s technically no rule against ganging up on someone or avoiding skirmishes with your buddies until the end. We call them ‘shadow teams’ since it’s not really a team, but it sort of is.”

  “And you got top five without any shadow team of your own?” I asked.

  “Yeah, flying solo makes it a bit tougher, especially when I’m garbage at long range. Get me in close quarters and I’ll be dancing on your worm-squirming grave, but I can’t ever seem to get close enough to Noah. He’s either sniping me, raining dragon fire on my head, or I get double-teamed before I can close the distance.”

  “So is that how Noah wins all the time? His shadow team?”

  Freddie slowly shook her head, black curls bobbing. “He claims no one helps him, but I highly doubt that’s true. Hey, maybe you can read his mind!”

  The comment, however absurd Freddie meant it to sound, actually gave me an idea. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Wait … can you read my mind, too?”

  I pursed my lips and slid over my extra peaches and Tater Tots. “You’re thinking you’re hungry because you put your lunch money in that brown bag.”

  Freddie’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Whoa, Texcalibur. Maybe you did go to Hogwarts.”

  “Something like that,” I said, taking out my list and checking off another box.

  * * *

  The remainder of lunch was distinctly less painful on the sticky day than it had b
een on the discard day, but that wasn’t all that uncommon. Freddie and I rotated in and out of a winner-stays game of four square while I shot occasional glances over at the Clique. Looking at Braxlynn duck-face for photo after photo and laugh as she took pics of other kids made my stomach burn like I’d just chugged a ghost chili milkshake, but I knew I wouldn’t do a darn thing about it. The fear of me ending up on some “ship or dip” post on Dud Spuds made sure of that. Why did she have that kind of power to begin with? I wasn’t aware of anyone who actually liked her, outside of her little gaggle of friends and Jaxson, but somehow she still ruled the school.

  I also kept an eye on Zak over at the football field. He played on the opposite team from Jaxson and actually gave the bully a run for his money, which gave me an odd sense of pride. Odd, considering the kid didn’t even officially know who I was yet.

  The rest of the school day went by without incident. I hung back and waited for Zak to board the bus first. Without having broken up the fight between me and Jaxson, I couldn’t be sure he’d choose to sit by me again. On sticky days, you sometimes had to take matters into your own hands. I boarded the bus and saw Zak sitting about halfway back. The seat next to him was empty.

  “Hey, this seat taken?” I asked.

  “Be my guest,” Zak said, scooting over a bit more.

  “Danny Day,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m new here.”

  Zak placed his notebook on his lap and shook my hand with a strong grip, recognition washing over his face. “Oh, you’re the mind-reader kid.”