CHAPTER 19

WEDNESDAY, AKA HUMP DAY. The week half finished, everything a downhill coast from there. Hudson’s week skidded downhill the moment Zattora and Skirt sat at his table yesterday. All morning he’d been expecting some kind of retaliation.

Hudson stood in front of his open locker just kind of staring into it and wishing there was a way to skip lunch —or rather the lunchroom. Wishing he’d told Dad everything last night too. He could have used the advice. Now Hudson had to figure this out on his own.

Which meant he’d better think fast.

You’ve stood up to the alpha male and his pack. If they try to knock you back in line, what do you do?

The answer was D. Clearly. He’d have to be so unpredictably over-the-top that eventually they’d leave him alone. It would work. It had to.

He closed his locker and headed for lunch.

Next question. Where to sit?

His heart wanted A, B, or C. But D was the smart choice. It would prove he had no fear —or make it look that way.

He entered the cafeteria directly behind Katrina, Alexa, and Giovanna. Pretty poison. All three of them. How could Giovanna dump Maggie for Alexa and Katrina? The stupid social ladder aside, she’d definitely traded down.

Giovanna didn’t look happy. “Are we really going to do it?”

Kat flashed her teeth. “It’ll be fun.”

That didn’t sound good. But Hudson had his own worries. He swung around the tables and away from the girls at a good clip —pasting a smile on his face to complete the illusion.

Wolfe was at his usual table with Zattora, Skirt, and the rest of the pack, but none of them were eating. They were scanning the room.

Suddenly, eating lunch in the bathroom sounded like a great idea.

He kept walking. Ran through his options. If he made it to Pancake’s table before they spotted him, would they think he’d tried to sneak past them? Would they figure he was afraid? Probably.

Keep playing offense. Keep them guessing. Be unpredictable. Dangerous. Weren’t those just the kinds of things Dad had drummed into his head?

He altered course. Zattora never saw him coming. Hudson stepped up right behind him. “Hey.”

Zattora jumped, then whirled to face him.

“Sorry,” Hudson said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He may have emphasized that word a bit more than was needed.

Zattora’s face hardened. “You’re crazy.”

Hudson shrugged. “As long as I keep up with my meds, they say I shouldn’t have an episode.”

Zattora’s eyes narrowed. Like he wasn’t sure he should believe him. But hopefully Hudson had created just enough doubt to keep Zattora off balance.

Wolfe smiled slightly. “What can we do for you, Homeschool Freak?”

Hudson shrugged. “I thought Zattora was looking for me.”

“What?” Zattora shook his head. “Why would I be looking for you?”

“Some stupid reason, I’m sure,” Hudson said. “If you remember what it was, I’ll be at the next table.” Hudson turned and walked away, resisting the urge to look back.

Hopefully it would keep the guys off guard and away from him —for now, anyway.

“See ya, Freak Show.”

Wolfe’s voice. Apparently the pack thought that was hilarious.

Hudson raised one hand and waved over his shoulder. Why couldn’t he get a nickname like “Sledge” or “Hammer”? Then again maybe the nickname Freak Show could work to his advantage.

Pancake was at the table. Alone. His whole face transformed into a wide grin the moment he saw Hudson, like he was surprised to see him.

Pancake had a carton of something that obviously hadn’t come from the lunch line.

“What are you drinking?”

“Horchata,” he said, and shook the carton.

Okay, so Hudson didn’t know many Spanish words. “Milk?”

“Way better. Milk, rice, vanilla, and cinnamon. I’ll bring you some tomorrow.”

“Cinnamon sounds good.”

“You’ll love it.” Pancake looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he thumbed his glasses back in place and took another swig.

For the guy who’d ditched Hudson yesterday, Pancake was acting awfully friendly. Which was great, but a little weird.

Hudson sat across from Pancake so he’d see anyone from Wolfe’s table coming. He took his sandwich out of the paper bag.

Pancake shifted in his seat. “I didn’t think you’d show today. Here, I mean. At the table.”

Did he think he’d be too afraid to get near Wolfe?

“The thing is,” Pancake said. “Sometimes I can be annoying. Smothering is the word, I think. I don’t blame you for ditching me.”

“Ditching you? When I got to the bike rack yesterday, you were gone.”

Pancake looked confused. “I waited for a while. Figured you changed your mind.”

“I got out late,” Hudson said. “I was stalling.”

Pancake gave him a questioning look. “Stalling?” He threw back another mouthful of horchata.

“Hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

Pancake laughed, and horchata spewed out of his nose.

Hudson handed him a napkin. “Now you’ve got cinnamon snot.”

“Be right back.” Pancake hustled off toward the washroom, still laughing.

Hudson felt eyes on him. He grabbed some napkins and sopped up the table. Should he let Pancake know about his plans?

Pancake came back smiling, and Hudson had the overwhelming sense he could trust him.

“What if I told you that I’m thinking about trying to do something about the bullying around here?”

Pancake shrugged. “You already did. Nobody’s messed with me since yesterday.”

“Think of it like an experiment,” Hudson said. “For my Creating Change project.”

Pancake glanced over his shoulder and whispered. “You can’t take them all on, amigo.”

“Agreed. I plan to stay incognito.”

For a couple of seconds Pancake just looked at him. “Want help?”

Hudson smiled. “I was hoping you’d ask.” He pulled out his notebook and flipped to a blank page.

Hudson wrote the word Blacklist at the top of the page. “I need a control group. No more than five or six names of kids who bully.” He looked toward Wolfe’s table. “Just the key players.”

Pancake poked a thumb at the table behind him. “There’s only three at that table.”

Hudson wrote. “Wolfe. Skirt. Zattora.”

“Exactly right,” Pancake said. “You change them and the rest will follow.”

Maggie approached the table, hesitated, and sat down in the same spot as yesterday.

“Hi.” Hudson waved his PB&J sandwich at her.

She nodded and sat down.

Pancake tapped the notebook. “You want this to be just a list of guys who bully?”

Actually, adding some girls made perfect sense. It would balance out the study. “Both.”

“That’s easy,” Pancake said. “Katrina. Alexa. Giovanna.”

Hudson jotted down the names.

“She doesn’t like to be called Katrina —which you know,” Pancake said. “I’m pretty sure her parents named her after the hurricane that demolished New Orleans.”

Maggie laughed. “I like your theory.”

And Hudson liked the sound of her laugh.

“Better close that notebook,” Maggie whispered. “Here they come.”

Alexa, Kat, and Giovanna rose from a table across the aisle, heading right for them. Each carried fully loaded trays, and they leaned into each other as they walked. Whispering. Giggling.

“Got you these.” Alexa dropped two opened bags of chips on Maggie’s tray. “There’s still a few left. We know how much you like to eat.”

Ouch! What was that about?

Katrina dropped two empty milk cartons, a wrapper from a giant cookie, and a half-eaten Snickers bar. “Yeah, after your comments on the forum last night, we figured you might want more munchies.”

Giovanna stepped closer and tossed two more bags of chips. Unopened.

Maggie’s tray was buried. “I don’t have a website,” Maggie said. “And you know it.”

They were heading back to their table before she finished, laughing as they went.

“What are they talking about?” Hudson asked.

Suddenly Giovanna handed off her tray to Katrina and marched back to Maggie —phone in hand. She whipped off a burst of pictures of Maggie —and her overflowing tray.

What was she going to do with that?

Giovanna whirled around and disappeared through a group of passing students.

Maggie looked like she wanted to disappear.

Kat and Alexa laughed loud enough to make others sitting at nearby tables wonder what was so funny.

“That isn’t right,” Hudson said to nobody in particular.

Pancake nodded. “I told you they belong on your list, right?”

“Hey, Baldocchi.”

Hudson zeroed in on the one calling Maggie. Logan Kennedy.

“Got enough to eat?”

Maggie looked lost. Ready to cry.

Say something, Hudson. Do something.

Somebody snorted like a pig. Wolfe’s entire table joined in. Hudson leaned across the table and scooped an armful of the bags and cartons over to his tray. Now he looked like the one with the bottomless stomach.

Alexa was standing in the aisle, oinking.

“Hey, Miss Piggy.” Hudson called out loud enough for everyone in a three-table radius to hear. “If you’re that hungry, I’ll share.” He tossed a bag of chips her way. “E-i-e-i-o.”

Kids all around them laughed, which boosted Hudson’s confidence immediately. Alexa turned red and sat back down.

Maggie’s eyes never left the food in front of her, but Pancake was grinning. “Nicely done,” he said.

Hudson slid a couple bags of chips across to him. “Help me out with this.”

“Gladly.” Pancake nodded toward the girls’ table. “I think you made more enemies, amigo.”

“And this is only Wednesday.”

Pancake laughed. “Can’t wait to see what you’ll do tomorrow.”

Maggie spread a napkin out like a place mat and arranged her sandwich on it. But she didn’t eat. And she didn’t say a word. Not a simple “thanks.” Nothing. The girl was a mystery.

Pancake scooped most of the empty bags onto his tray. “I’m making a garbage run.”

Hudson slid the rest onto his tray and followed.

“Hudson, wait.” Maggie’s voice.

He stopped in his tracks —halfway to the garbage barrel.

She stepped up alongside him. “Sometimes I’m not sure about you, but thanks for what you just did.”

He walked to the barrel with her, dumped the garbage, and headed back to their table. “Does this mean we’re friends?”

She smiled. “The jury is still out on that one.”

Hudson stood across the table from her and raised both hands. “I’m innocent.”

She laughed —just a little. Then caught herself like she didn’t dare let down her guard. She looked so . . . fragile.

“I saw those six names you wrote down.” She pointed to his notebook. “What is it, a hit list or something?”

He motioned for her to lower her voice. They were way too close to Kat’s table. “Something like that.”

“I’m not sure that will help your case with the jury.”

“It’s not what you think. It’s for the Creating Change project. I’m working with Pancake.” He flipped the notebook over.

Hudson wanted to change the topic. Build her up somehow. Say something nice. What he really wanted was to keep the conversation going. “Maggie . . .”

She looked up at him.

“I . . . uh . . .” His mind went blank. His face got warm and he looked at the floor —actually at her red high-tops. And not just any high-tops. They were classic Converse . . . the Chuck Taylor All Stars. Girls like compliments. Girls like shoes. Why the thought popped into his head, he had no idea. “Nice Chucks.”

“Excuse me?” She blushed. Looked confused.

“Your shoes . . . Chuck Taylors . . . he’s the guy who designed them —like a hundred years ago.” He blurted it out. Too fast. Too loud.

Katrina twisted in her seat. “No wonder they look so ridiculous.” Alexa and Giovanna laughed hysterically.

What had he done? He wanted to rush around the table and block their view of Maggie. He had to fix this. “They’re classics.”

“They’re circus shoes,” Kat said.

What? Somehow he’d given them ammo —against Maggie.

Maggie looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock and die. She glared at him. “Jerk.” She grabbed her tray and left the table.

And in that instant he knew. The jury had reached a decision. Hudson looked at Pancake. “What did I say?”

“Based on her reaction,” Pancake said, “the wrong thing.”