CHAPTER 3

The Kale Incident

The best thing about my classroom (besides Charlie) is Morten. He’s a bearded dragon, which is a kind of lizard. Ms. Gelson’s son donated him to the class after going away to university. On the days we don’t have art or gym, Morten is the main reason I want to go to school.

At night, he sleeps in a giant terrarium next to my desk, but during class, you can sign him out and put his harness on, then attach his leash to your desk. You can only take him out when everyone’s doing a quiet activity, like journal writing, or else he gets too excited and poops on the floor. Ms. Gelson lets me write him letters instead of journaling because it’s much easier to write to Morten than to try to remember interesting details about my life. Especially when we’re not supposed to make up stuff in our journals.

Since it’s Monday morning, we’re doing our “weekend reflection.” It rained all weekend, so I don’t have much to reflect on. I start the way I always do:

When I’m done my letter, I trace over the words to make it look like I’m still writing until at least three other people are done, too. When people start using pencil crayons, I know they are drawing pictures in their journals and that it’s safe to stop pretending to write. Then I sign out Morten, tuck my letter under his harness and point him toward Ms. Gelson’s desk. It’s how I always hand in my weekend reflection.

“Morten meanders merrily on a masterful mission,” Ms. Gelson once said. She always makes things fun, even words.

I start getting bored just sitting there, and I always get my best business ideas when I’m bored, so then I get really excited. I’m so bored my eyes start drooping and my head gets floppy. I know a good idea is coming — I can just feel it. I need to talk to Charlie now, because I know that my great idea will pop out when we’re together.

I stare at the back of Charlie’s head and say his name in my mind at least a hundred times. I haven’t mastered telepathy yet like the Emmas, and he doesn’t turn around. I consider sending him a note on Morten’s back, but Morten is still on his way to Ms. Gelson. Can I wait until recess? I don’t think so, because we still have to get through a math lesson, so I have to pay attention and have no time for getting bored. I have to talk to him now.

I pretend like I need my water bottle and head to the cubbies.

“Charlie!” I whisper as I pass by his desk. “H-2-O!”

He knows that’s the code to meet at the cubbies. Charlie and I leave our water bottles in our backpacks so we have an excuse to go to the cubbies, which have a dividing wall so no one can see us. Ms. Gelson says we never have to ask to get water, so it’s the perfect desk-escape plan.

Once we’re safely at the cubbies, I tell Charlie that I can feel a great idea coming on. The only thing is, he isn’t as excited as I thought he would be.

“Wednesday,” whispers Charlie, “you have to come up with an idea before calling a meeting with me.” Charlie is very practical like that. I’ll tell you more later, but sometimes I’m not as practical and can’t help making bad decisions.

“But it’s on the tip of my tongue!” I assure him.

“Okay, fine,” he says, pulling out his invention notebook that’s filled with graph paper.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I notice Morten turn his head to me instead of toward Ms. Gelson’s desk.

“No! Morten!” I say, waving my arms back and forth. But this only makes Morten more interested. “He’s going to draw attention to us.”

“Throw something near Ms. Gelson’s desk!” Charlie says.

“Good idea!” I say, and I reach into my lunch bag and pull out the leftover pizza. I rip the kale off the top and flick it toward the desk. The kale travels surprisingly far but hits Lamar’s desk instead, sticking to the side. I try again.

Flick goes the kale. It leaves my fingertips just as Emma M. leans down to pick up her pencil from the floor. Charlie and I watch in horror as the kale lands right on Emma’s cheek.

It sticks there for the longest second in the history of time before she wipes it away in disgust. A tomatoey smudge stays behind. Emma’s eyes widen with anger as she looks around the classroom for the culprit. Charlie and I are frozen in amazement. I mean fear. Fearmazement.

“I never knew kale could travel that far,” whispers Charlie. “I’ll take note of that.”

Then Emma M. spots us.

“We’re doomed,” I say.

“Caught red-handed,” says Charlie, looking down at my pizza-sauced fingers.

“It’s been nice knowing you,” I say as we watch Emma M. coming our way. She’s already used her telepathic skills to alert Ruby and the other Emmas, who follow behind her.

“Should we run?” I ask. But it’s no use. Charlie is still frozen, and they have us surrounded.