You’re pinning this on the wrong girl,” my brother said. Rafe plopped a briefcase on the Lizard King’s desk, and a pile of papers spilled out. Rafe picked one up. “Exhibit A.”
“What’s this?” The Lizard King frowned at the paper.
“Her report card from last year.” Rafe held out another paper. “Here’s the one from the year before that. And the one from the year before. As you can see, the grades are straight A’s.”
The Lizard King eyed the papers and suddenly let out a stream of fire from his mouth that turned my report cards into ash. But Rafe just went on with his speech.
“Georgia also got 1s in effort, which—honestly—is a little obnoxious. I mean, who tries that hard in study hall?”
“If you’re trying to make a point, Mr. Khatchadorian, I suggest you do it soon,” the Lizard King told him. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Um… right. My point is,” Rafe said, “that Georgia was a model student until she came to Hills Village Middle School. And that’s my fault.”
“Rafe?” I was so surprised, I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
My brother turned to face me. “I’m sorry, Georgia,” he said. “I know everyone thinks you’re guilty because I pulled so many pranks here. But”—he turned back to face the Lizard King—“Georgia is not me. Not even close.”
There was a long stretch of silence like a curving road leading who knows where. I stared at the Lizard King. He stared back at me. “Do you have anything to add?” Principalzilla asked.
I blinked, and Rafe disappeared.
You knew he was never really there in the first place, right? I mean, why would he be at my school in the middle of the day?
Still… it was a cool thought.
