Dexter the Tough Read Free Page A

into the distance.
    â€œNo,” he said after a while. “I really like being Robin. I just don’t like other kids making fun of it. Maybe . . . ” He looked sidewaysat Dexter. “Maybe I could tell them you’ll beat them up if they keep doing that?”
    Dexter’s stomach started feeling funny again.
    â€œBeat them up yourself,” Dexter said.
    â€œI’m not very good at fighting,” Robin said, shrugging helplessly. “You saw me this morning.”
    Dexter had a flash of remembering his fist hitting Robin’s jaw. He felt like he was going to throw up that weird tuna fish sandwich Grandma had packed for his lunch.
    â€œLook,” Dexter said. “You’re a lot bigger than me. Stand up.”
    Obediently, Robin scrambled all the way up. Dexter’s nose barely came up to the middle of Robin’s chest.
    â€œLet me see your muscles.”
    Robin lifted his arm, and bent it at the elbow. Maybe he had more flab than muscle, but his arm was at least twice as thick as Dexter’s.
    â€œSee, if you’d really tried, you could havebeaten me up,” Dexter said encouragingly. “If you’d gotten one good hit in, you would have knocked me out. You probably would have put me in the hospital.”
    â€œYeah?” Robin said excitedly.
    â€œOh, yeah,” Dexter said, nodding. “I’m sure of it. So just tell the other kids that .”
    Robin let his arm fall to his side.
    â€œMy mom would kill me if she heard I was telling people stuff like that,” he said hopelessly. “Even if I said you would beat them up. She doesn’t approve of fighting. She’s really picky like that.”
    Dexter felt his fists clench together. And if the playground monitor hadn’t blown her whistle just then, ending recess, he might have beaten Robin up all over again.
    No matter what he’d promised.

Chapter 4
    G randma was waiting at the curb when Dexter got off the bus that afternoon. She had curly white old-lady hair, and sturdy brown old-lady shoes, and a stretchy red old-lady pantsuit. Dexter hoped nobody on the bus thought she was his mom.
    â€œYou don’t have to come and get me,” he said, first thing, as soon as he stepped off the bus.
    Grandma gave him a tired smile.
    â€œI know,” she said. “I know you’re a big boy. But I thought it might feel a little strange to you, coming home to a different house.” She pushed open the gate that separatedher yard from the sidewalk. “How was your first day of school?”
    Dexter thought about how much he hated the principal, and the secretary, and the janitor, and his teacher, and the kids who had laughed at him. He thought about how he’d gotten in a fight—how he’d beaten up Robin Bryce.
    Then he thought about how Mom and Dad had said he wasn’t supposed to make any trouble for Grandma, how he wasn’t supposed to worry her.
    â€œIt was okay,” he said. “The teacher sent home a list of supplies I need.” He pulled the sheet of paper out of his backpack and handed it to Grandma.
    Grandma frowned.
    â€œOh, dear,” she said. “Back when your mother and Uncle Ted were in school, kids just needed paper and something to write with. What’s this—colored pencils? Fat markers and skinny ones, too?” She sighed. “Guess we’ll have to run out to the store after dinner.”
    â€œI have markers at home,” Dexter said. “I just forgot to bring them.”
    Why hadn’t Mom or Dad reminded him? Dexter felt mad again. He kicked at the step as he climbed toward Grandma’s porch. But his kick missed and he lost his balance and fell over backward. He landed flat on the sidewalk. He thought he heard kids laughing as the bus pulled away.
    Grandma squinted down at him.
    Mom would have said, “Child, just what do you think you’re doing?” And Dad would have said, “A