Fish in a Tree Read Free Page B

from them.
    I think back to second grade when my teacher wrote a whole lot of letters down and asked me what they said. I had no idea. But I was used to that.
    “That spells your
name,
Ally. Ally Nickerson.”
    Who knew a second grader could understand what being humiliated feels like.
    Tears begin to come, but I swallow them because I know I’ll be found soon. I worry so much about them knowing my secret that my stomach feels like I’ve been kicked in the guts.
    “Ally?” my mom asks as she comes around the corner. “Your friends have gone. What are you doing back here?”
    I can’t tell her. Thinking I have friends makes her so happy.
    “Honey?”
    “I was checking the ingredients of ketchup.”
    Her eyebrows bunch up. She knows something is up, but I walk past her before she asks another question. I walk back out into the restaurant with her following and sit next to Shay’s and Jessica’s matching empty dishes. It feels like they should mean something. Like maybe I’m an empty dish compared to everyone else.
    But mostly those dishes make me feel like this year will be the worst year I’ve had so far. And that’s really saying something.

CHAPTER 5
    S i l v e r D o l l a r s a n d W o o d e n N i c k e l s
    The back door swings open and my brother, Travis, is there, smelling like grease. Looking like he rolled in it. And I instantly feel better.
    “How’s my favorite little sister?”
    “I’m your
only
little sister.”
    “Doesn’t matter. You’d
still
be my favorite.” He smiles. “So, your favorite big brother had a silver dollar day today!”
    I think of Grandpa and Dad, who always asked us if we were having a silver dollar day or a wooden nickel one.
    Travis is doing that thing where he wiggles his fingers in the air and asks his daily question, “What are
these
?” He looks older—more like my dad, who’s been deployed since just before Thanksgiving last year. It was hard to feel thankful after he’d gone. Especially since Grandpa had died three months before that.
    “The hands of a genius?” I say.
    “Correcto-mundo!”
    “Do you realize you come home every day and ask me to compliment you?”
    “Not really,” he says, opening the fridge. “Just asking you to state the facts.”
    “You are unbelievable.”
    “
Exactly!
” he says, pointing at me. “Guess what? I finished restoring an old Coke machine today. Thing is like seventy years old.” He pops open a soda. “Those things are worth a bundle fixed up.” Then he holds up the can. “Look at this. Disappointing compared to those old green bottles.”
    Travis must be happy. The happier he is, the more he goes on about things.
    “
And,
” he says, “I picked up an old gumball machine. The kind that takes pennies. I’ll sell it for ten times what I paid for it.” His voice drops and he takes a sip. “I will have to throw some money and elbow grease at it first, though.”
    He comes over like he’s going to mess up my hair, but I block his dirty hands. “No way!” I laugh. “Don’t touch me!”
    “Aw, c’mon, Al. I’ve had a great day. And guess what? I almost have enough to buy those rolling tool cabinets. And someday my big neon sign.” He sweeps his hand through the air like he’s showing me a row of mountains. “
Nickerson Restoration.
My own place. My name—
our
name—is going to be in lights someday, Al.” But then his voice deflates. “I just have to get out of high school. We’re like oil and water, school and me. I wish Mom would let me quit.”
    “She would kill you.”
    “Yeah. So would Dad. And being dead won’t be good for my business.” He smiles. “Won’t be long, though. I’m learning a ton at the garage. The boss is letting me do all kinds of different stuff.”
    I smile.
    “I’m going to buy a car soon, too. A classic. And a V-6 at least.”
    And then he’s off and I can still smell the grease after he’s gone.
    I’m glad he had a silver dollar day.
    • • •
    When my mom