Evel Knievel broke the record for most bone fractures with 433 breaks. During Knievel’s last stunt, he jumped into a shark-filled tank and earned a concussion and two broken arms for his attempt. That had to hurt way more than being outdone by your bully. This is what I keep telling myself anyway.
During second period, I put my head on the desk so nobody will talk to me. Mrs. Pham asks if I’m sick. Later, in the hallway between second and third period, Jason comes up to me and says, “I heard you lied about the record thing.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Any other questions?” I ask.
“Oh.” Jason takes a step back. “I guess not.”
When I get to fourth period, I sit at my normal computer and wiggle the mouse. My screen pops on.
Right before the bell rings for lunch, Jesse says, “So, you know, are we okay, then?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“You’re not mad at me at all?”
“Jesse this isn’t about you.”
“It’s just, I’m sorry,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was mad, I guess. And then Nina and Pops were supposed to come to my meet, but then they went to St. Louis with you. I didn’t know you were so upset until I got your text. And I didn’t know you were planning on telling everybody the truth today.”
“Wait,” I say. My brain struggles—or maybe it is refusing—to comprehend what Jesse’s saying. “You told everybody I lied about the records?”
“All I did was tell the truth.”
“You told the truth. To everybody. Right. Okay. Did you write the note too?”
Jesse frowns. “What note?”
I blink hard and rub my forehead.
“Milo. I’m so sorry. You are mad, aren’t you?”
The bell rings, but neither of us stand up.
“‘Mad’ is not the right word. I’m…”
I can’t think of the word I want to use. I’m angry. I’m embarrassed. I’m betrayed. I’m somebody who has lost everything he thought he could count on.
“Bye, Jesse.”
I get up and leave.