CHAPTER 20

MAGGIE HAD NO IDEA WHAT Hudson’s game was. Scooping the trash away from her tray almost seemed . . . heroic. But the crack about her shoes changed everything.

Obviously he’d been on the website. Probably one of the bazillion “likes.” Which meant he’d only been pretending to help her. He’d waited until her guard was down and zinged her good —loud enough for everyone to hear. Maybe he figured he’d score big points with someone . . . but definitely not her. Hudson wasn’t a hero. He was a moron.

When he’d prayed —or given thanks —or whatever it was that Christians did before a meal, she’d been suspicious, hadn’t she? And for good reason. Every other person she’d ever known who claimed to be a Christian wasn’t all that much different from anybody else. They just thought they were.

She didn’t see Hudson again until Mr. Cutter’s class. Actually, she didn’t see anybody. She kept her focus on the floor tiles as much as she could.

Maggie was one of the first ones in the room. She even beat Mr. Cutter. Hudson walked in, hesitated, and then headed right for her desk. Now what? She unzipped her backpack and started digging around inside. Maybe he’d just keep going.

“Hey, ah . . .”

Maggie kept rummaging.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”

She looked him right in the eyes. “If?” Why did people even bother with lame apologies like that? What it really meant was I don’t think there was a thing wrong with what I said, but since you obviously do, I’ll be a good sport and apologize.

He looked confused. “I like your shoes. That’s all I said.”

Maggie glared at him. “And who talked you into doing that? Kat?”

“What?” His face actually looked like he had no idea what she was talking about.

He could act. She had to admit that. Which made him even more dangerous. She wasn’t going to get fooled into trusting him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I . . .”

He gave her a Mr. Innocent face. Maggie was so not buying it. She went back to digging in her backpack.

He took a step toward his desk. Then stopped. “Lose something important?”

He just wouldn’t let it go. “Extremely.” She’d lost the respect of everyone in the school. Her own self-respect too. She might have lost any chance for friendship in junior high.

“Can I help y —”

“No, you can’t help.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “What I really need isn’t in here.” Which was absolutely true. She glanced at her own T-shirt. She needed an escape from this school and everybody in it.

“Um . . . okay.” He inched backward toward his desk.

Pancake rushed in, all out of breath, pulled Hudson aside, and talked so quiet Maggie couldn’t hear a word. But by the look on Pancake’s face, he was worried. Hudson scanned the room as he listened, like he was expecting trouble.

She looked away just as Kat and her litter filed in. Maggie had her own troubles to deal with.

The oinks and snorts started. Giggles and laughter. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the pain would keep her mind off the pig noises. Why didn’t anyone stop them? Why didn’t someone stand up to them and tell them how wrong it was? Angry tears burned her eyes. She turned without thinking —and regretted it the instant she did. Jo was looking right at her —oinking just like the others.

“Please, Jo,” Maggie whispered. “Stop.”

Jo glanced at Kat for an instant —and oinked again.

Maggie’s tears broke free. “Coward.” She spun around in her seat.

She had to do something. Get in front of this somehow. Tighten the laces on these “Chucks,” as Hudson called them, and hotfoot it out of here.

Mr. Cutter walked in and dropped a stack of folders on his desk. The bell rang.

The oinks slowed —and got quieter —but they didn’t stop.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Mr. Cutter stepped over to the smart board. “This is a classroom, not a barnyard.” He shook his head, smiling slightly. “Savage beasts. Sounds like we’ve got a bunch of pigs in here today.”

Maggie glared at Kat. Alexa. Pigs, yes. Then Jo. And definitely one chicken.