Schooled Read Free Page B

didn’t crumble. The one at Garland probably would have.
    There I stood, still facing her door, paralyzed with discovery. Beauty. That was precisely the word that had been haunting me. Sophie Donnelly was beautiful. I had seen beautiful girls on book jackets, and even noticed some from a distance when Rain and I had gone into town for supplies. But this was the first time I’d ever really met one. I never could have imagined how strong the effect would be. Just standing near her—even when she was yelling at me—made me feel…nice.
    It sure was a strange and complex world outside Garland.

 
    5
    NAME: HUGH WINKLEMAN
    Adults are always trying to figure out what makes kids tick. They send professors into middle schools to do research and run tests; they publish thousand-page studies.
    Know what? They don’t have a clue.
    If you want to understand middle school students, there’s only one way to do it: follow the wedgies. Wedgie-givers and wedgie-receivers. Take it from someone who’s been down that road before.
    Sad to say, I’m one of the receivers. Zach Powers, Lena Young, and their crowd ride roughshod over a lot of people. But if statistics were taken, I’d be victim number one.
    Until Capricorn Anderson showed up.
    Even I could pick on a guy like that. Not that I’d ever do such a thing. I’d never lower myself to the level of those nitwits. But what a kid.
    He wasn’t nerdy in a typical way. He wasn’t a computer geek or captain of the chess club (that was me). He couldn’t speak Klingon; in fact, he’d never even heard of Star Trek. But just one peek at the guy and you knew that, dweebwise, there was a new sheriff in town.
    A lot of eyes were on him as he sat down in the cafeteria. God, it felt good to have them staring at someone else for a change. I walked over to him. A guy like this was going to need all the friends he could get (one).
    “Capricorn, right?” I set my tray down across from him. “I’m Hugh—from social studies class.” I stuck my hand out, but he just stared at it. It wasn’t a snub. Believe me, I could teach a college course on snubs. This was cluelessness. He honestly didn’t know what to do.
    “I remember you,” he said finally. “There are so many people here. It’s hard to keep track.”
    “I can help you with that.” I pointed to the table where Zach and Lena were holding court. “That crowd thinks they own the place. They think that because they do. Stay away from them. They’ll chop you up and press you into salami. Now, anyone you see hanging around their crew falls into one of two subgroups—the jocks and the wannabes. Stay away from both. And you definitely don’t want anything to do with goths, burnouts, skateboarders, hip-hop kids, environmentalists, or anybody who has a baseball cap on backward.” I took note of the blank expression on his face. “You know, standard survival skills. I’m sure it was similar at your old school.”
    “I was homeschooled before this.”
    “No kidding.” I’d heard of that, but I’d never met anybody who did it. “What’s it like?”
    “Wonderful,” he said wanly.
    “I’ll bet!” My enthusiasm was genuine. “It must be nice to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about walking into a hostile environment, with your next wedgie a matter of not if but when. ”
    “What’s a wedgie?”
    Wow. Homeschooling must be heaven! I didn’t answer the question. He’d find out soon enough.
    My eyes fell on Cap’s lunch, which consisted of salad, carrot sticks, and two slices of whole wheat bread. He must have noticed, because he was looking just as curiously at my hamburger.
    “What part of the animal does that meat come from?”
    “I don’t know.” I chewed thoughtfully. “The lips, probably. Want a bite?”
    “I’m a vegetarian.”
    At that moment, I heard an all-too-familiar thpoot coming from behind us. Maybe one kid in a thousand would have recognized the sound. But I’m that kid. It was an