Fangboy. Part 9

"It is. I'll beat up one of the boys in here if you need me to prove it. I'll do it right now."

"No, that won't be necessary. Very good, Beverly. Nathan?"

Beverly stuck out her tongue at Nathan as she returned to her desk. Nathan didn't like that at all. Maybe he could use that to delay his public humiliation. He raised his hand. "Teacher!"

"Yes, Nathan?"

"She stuck her tongue out at me."

"Beverly, did you stick your tongue out at Nathan?"

Beverly sat down at her desk. "I sure did."

"Nathan, do you think that being a tattletale is a path toward a fulfilling life?"

What was she talking about? Why wasn't she sending Beverly to the Corner of Ridicule? What was going on here?

"I asked you a question."

Was it a trick question? Was he supposed to say that, yes, being a tattletale was a path toward a fulfilling life, at which point she would say "You're absolutely right!" and give him a gold star?

"No, teacher."

"That's right. Nathan Pepper needs to worry about what Nathan Pepper is doing, and not expend valuable energy trying to get his cla.s.smates in trouble. Answer me this question, cla.s.s: does anybody like a tattletale?"

"No," said the children in unison.

"If you behave like a tattletale too often, why, you might grow a real tail! Can you imagine going through life with a tail? Nathan, take over Gordon's s.h.i.+ft in the Corner of Ridicule."

Nathan got up and sadly walked across the cla.s.sroom. A girl whispered "Nathan the Tattletale!" and the children around her giggled.

He sat on the stool, feeling more ashamed and embarra.s.sed than he had in his entire life.

And then he threw up.

TEN.

Nathan decided that he hated school. Hated, hated, hated it. It was the worst thing ever to be invented. Only stupid people should have to go to it.

He never did have to say what he wanted to be when he grew up or what he had done over the summer, but that didn't make him feel any better. Nathan the Tattletale! What an awful name! If he'd known that nicknames would be bestowed so quickly, he would have taken action to be known as Nathan the Brave or Nathan the Quick-Witted or Nathan the Rat-Killer. Nathan the Tattletale? Even Fangboy was better!

Mrs. Calmon dismissed them for morning recess, and the other children happily scampered around the playground, playing on slides and teeter-totters and swings. Nathan stood against the brick wall of the school, sulking.

"h.e.l.lo," said Jamison, leaning against the wall next to him. "I'm glad you threw up."

"I'm not."

"I throw up all the time. I was worried all morning that it would happen in front of everybody, which it did, but at least I wasn't the first."

"Yeah."

"What do you think of school so far?" Jamison asked.

"I hate it."

"Me, too."

"They can keep me here, but I'm not going to learn anything," said Nathan.

"Me either. Not a thing."

"Whatever they teach me, I'll run straight home and forget it!"

"Me, too! Me, too!"

"Why did you spend the summer in the hospital?"

"Because I'm going to die."

"Are you?"

Jamison nodded. "I wish I weren't. They don't know when but it won't be long."

"I've never known anybody who was dying."

"Now you do. Are those your real teeth?"

"These?" Nathan tapped his front tooth. "No, these are joke teeth. I never take them out."

"Where'd you get them?"

"There's a store. I'll take you there someday."

Nathan the Liar...

"I'm only kidding," said Nathan. "They're my real teeth."

"Seriously?"

"I was born with them. One came out, see?"

"Do you like them?"

"I hate them. They're awful."

"I bet they make it easier to eat things. When my mother cooks meat it's so tough that you can barely bite through it, but I bet you could finish the meal in half the time."

"I suppose so."

They continued leaning against the school wall for a few moments.

"Do you ever use swear words?" asked Jamison.

"No. Do you?"

"No. But I will someday."

"Me, too."

They leaned against the wall some more.

"Look! It's Nathan the Tattletale!" shouted Gordon, jumping off the swings and pointing at them.

"Shut up!" Jamison shouted back. "Go back to the moon!"

Gordon ran over to them. "I wasn't talking to you."

"I don't care. Nathan's my friend. If you talk to him, you're talking to me. Do you want to fight?"

"No. I'm sorry. My father told me that on my first day I should punch somebody to show everybody that I'm not one to be messed with, but that doesn't sound like fun at all. Can I lean against the wall with you?"

"Of course."

The three of them leaned against the wall for the remainder of recess. When they went back inside, none of them learned anything, especially the spelling lesson. They ate lunch together, learned nothing afterward, and at afternoon recess decided to swing from the jungle gym. Jamison fell off a few times, but didn't seem to mind.

"Get off those bars! It's my turn!"

Nathan, who was dangling upside-down, looked over to see Beverly, her arms folded over her chest.

"If you want to take a turn on the bars, you have to count," said Jamison. "When you count to forty-five, we'll get off and it'll be your turn."

"You'll get off now or I'll fight all of you!"

"Hey, everyone!" shouted a boy. "Beverly is going to beat up Nathan the Tattletale!"

The children all rushed over to the jungle gym. Nathan's stomachache immediately returned. He pulled himself right-side-up and began to climb down.

"Don't get off!" said Jamison. "She has to count."

Nathan climbed down until his feet were on the bottom bar. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Count."

"I'll count the number of times I hit your face," said Beverly. "Get off and give me my turn."

Nathan lowered his foot and almost touched the ground with his toe, then quickly placed his foot back on the metal bar and smiled. "No. You have to count."

"Look at his teeth!" exclaimed the boy who'd shouted that there was going to be a fight.

Nathan put his hand over his mouth.

"They're the teeth of a monster!" shouted a girl. Nathan thought her name was Judy.

The children crowded around him. Nathan just knew that he was going to throw up again, and the taste still hadn't quite left his mouth from the first time.

"What's going on?" demanded a teacher.

Judy pointed at Nathan. "I think he's a prehistoric creature!"

"I'm not!"

"Look at them!" shouted a boy named Ronald, who wanted to be a scientist when he grew up and had spent his summer digging for gold. "They're incredible!"

"All right, enough of this," said the teacher. "Leave him alone."

"But they're the best teeth I've ever seen! He's a genius!"

"Your teeth don't make you a genius, you dullard of a boy. Hard work and study, that's what makes you a genius. Now clear out."

"Can I see them again?" asked Ronald, ignoring the teacher.

Feeling a million eyes on him, Nathan opened his mouth.

The kids "Ooooooh"-ed with admiration.

"Clear out or I'll cancel the rest of recess," the teacher warned. Most of the other kids reluctantly stepped away, though almost all of them continued to watch Nathan.

"I've never been so jealous," said Ronald. "You could fight crime with teeth like those!"

"Go away," said Jamison. "He was my friend first."

"And my friend second," said Gordon.

"All right, all right. But I'm going to invite him to my Halloween party in a couple of months."

Nathan couldn't believe it. They actually liked his teeth? Had he been hiding away a gift all this time...or were the other children at this school merely insane?

It didn't matter. They thought he could fight crime!

Nathan almost felt as if he were glowing. His teeth, the bane of his very existence, were appreciated by his fellow students. What a glorious thing! Nothing could- "I told you to get off the bars," said Beverly, grabbing his arm and pulling him off the jungle gym. She shoved him to the ground.

One punch, two punches, three punches, and then Nathan didn't feel like getting back up.