Chapter 11
The Truth?
Cody’s brain worked frantically. He had to think up an excuse to get himself out of this one.
What could he say?
He unwrapped a long piece of toilet paper from around his head.
He looked around at the kids. They all stared at him.
He tried to think of a story.
Super Cody would answer like this:
It was my skates.
They were taken over by a magic spell.
Like that story about the red dancing shoes.
Remember? The shoes that kept dancing?
Cody shook his head. That was dumb. That one would never work.
He had another idea. He could say something like this:
I was working on a science project.
It’s about moving objects.
You know—action and reaction.
I was testing the force it takes to stop a moving object.
He sighed.
That would never work either.
He looked at Chip. He knew the truth—that he, Cody, couldn’t skate. Chip had heard him yell it out right before the girls pulled him into the chain.
He took a deep breath. It was time, he decided, to get rid of Super Cody for good.
“I have never been on a pair of skates in my life,” he said softly.
“He says he can’t skate,” someone said.
“He can’t really skate,” someone else echoed.
“That’s right,” Cody said, louder. “I can’t skate.”
He pulled himself onto a bench and began to take off more toilet paper.
As he unwrapped the paper, he talked.
“And we don’t have a Jag, we have a station wagon.”
He couldn’t look up. He pulled white paper from around his arm.
“And I didn’t move from Alaska, I moved from Topeka.”
Now that he had started, the words came more easily.
“And my dad works for a bank, not the F.B.I.”
He unwrapped the other arm.
“Pal is a cocker spaniel, not an emu.”
He pulled the rest of the paper from around his chest. “And my first word was not encyclopedia.” He took another deep breath. “It was Mama.”
He waited for some kind of reaction, but everyone was silent.
“Time for cake!” Holly’s mother called from across the room. Cody was afraid to look up. He just stared at the floor until everyone had gone over to the table set up by the concession stand.
He listened as the kids sang “Happy Birthday.” The happier they sounded, the worse he felt. He thought about calling his mother to pick him up early. More than anything, he just wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but Sparky’s Roller Rink.
He looked at the pile of toilet paper at his feet. Super deluxe Cody was gone for good—and he was just a plain old new kid all over again.