CHAPTER 16

IGGY LEARNS HIS LESSON

The next day, Iggy went back to school with scabby, bloody scrapes on his face; one black eye that was really purple and green and one black eye that was really yellow; a giant Band-Aid over his nose, and a mouth full of stitches. Yup, that’s right. Stitches on the inside of his mouth. Mostly on the inside of his bottom lip.

Did everyone look at Iggy and laugh? Did kids say, “You got what you deserved, Iggy Frangi, because you hit poor Miss Hackerman with a basketball.” Did they say, “Ha! This happened because you’re always so bad, Iggy!” Did Mrs. Wander come up to him and say, “I’m glad you hurt yourself, Iggy, because now you’ll be a better person.”

No.

Kids looked at him and said, “Eww! Gross!” and “Dude! Wipeout!” and “Aaaaah!” and “I heard you got stitches in your mouth!” Then he would open his mouth, and they’d scream.

It was great.

I mean it. Sure, if a magic guy had shown up and said, “Iggy, would you like to go back in time and not mash your face up?” Iggy would have said yes. But since he couldn’t go back in time, and his face was mashed up, it was fun to make people scream. It was fun to have the most mashed-up face in the school. It was fun to have everyone bunch around him, looking at his mouth and pretending to puke.

Ms. Schulberger winced when she saw him. “Oh, Iggy!” she said. “You poor kid!” Iggy smiled bravely (which actually did hurt), and Ms. Schulberger winced again. “If you need to lie down in the nurse’s office, just let me know. Anytime, sweetie.”

It was great.

At lunch, a fifth-grade kid who was famous for falling off the roof of the sports equipment shed came over to Iggy’s table. He looked at Iggy’s face and nodded. “Respect,” he said.

It was great.

That afternoon in art, after they were done gluing their collages, six girls in Iggy’s class—including Lainey!—made him Get Well Soon cards. Usually, Lainey ignored him.

It was great.

After school, as Iggy was leaving with Diego—who said he felt like throwing up every time he looked at Iggy—Mrs. Wander was standing by the gate. She called out, “Iggy Frangi!”

He froze.

Mrs. Wander stomped toward him, her eyeballs bulging.

What? What was she going to do to him?

“You fell off your bike,” she said.

Iggy nodded.

She frowned. “I hope you’ll learn to be more careful, Iggy.”

Okay, that was not so great, but it could have been worse.

When he went home, he got ice cream for snack because he couldn’t chew.

Great.

His dad brought him a Spider-Man book, because he felt bad about telling Iggy not to bug him.

Great.

As he lay in bed that night, Iggy touched his purple-and-green eye. It felt big, but it didn’t hurt that much. The scabby parts of his face didn’t hurt that much either. Even his nose didn’t hurt a lot. The inside of his mouth, though—he poked it with his tongue—yow, that hurt.

But still, he thought, I’m not in trouble anymore. Nobody’s mad at me.

Yeah, he thought. It was worth it.