Slob - Ellen Potter [7]
“We all signed our boy names on our math test,” she said.
“But how will Mr. Shackly know who you are?”
“He won’t. He’ll have to ask. Then we will stand up in class and publicly declare that we are to be called by our boy names from now on.”
“He won’t do it, you know,” I said. Mr. Shackly is one of the tougher teachers at our school.
“He’ll have to,” Jeremy said simply. “We won’t answer him if he calls us by our girl names.”
I groaned. There was going to be trouble. The GWAB members were pretty intense. I’ve seen them around, looking very determined. They recruited Jeremy after they saw her get into a fight with a boy in her class. They said she had the right stuff, and she agreed to join. I don’t think she did it because she actually wants to be a boy. I think she did it because she was just lonely. Things have been a little topsyturvy for us these past two years—new school, new apartment. New life. I think Jeremy was just glad to have some friends again. Plus, she loves a good fight and so do most of the GWAB members. It was a perfect fit, really.
“Hey! Flapjack!”
Jeremy and I both turned around to see Andre Bertoni jogging up to us. We occasionally meet him as we’re walking to or from school since he lives right across the street from us, in this fancy apartment building called Fuji Towers.
More about Fuji Towers later.
Andre was wearing his big-screen smile. I heard Jeremy swallow hard. Really, I heard it. She has a huge crush on Andre. She’s a sensible kid in every other way.
“How you doing, man?” Andre said when he caught up to us. “Hey, Caitlin.”
“She’s not Caitlin anymore,” I told him. “She’s changed her name to Jeremy.”
“But that’s a boy’s name,” he said, his smile now looking confused.
“That’s right,” I said.
He looked over at Jeremy, and her face became roughly the same color as her hair.
“You know what I would do if I were you, Flapjack?” he said, looking away from Jeremy.
Kill yourself? I thought. But I said. “I have no idea, Andre.”
“I’d sue,” he said confidently.
“Sue who?” I asked.
“The school,” Andre said. “Because of what Mr. Wooly did to you.”
“What did he do?” Jeremy’s ears pricked up at this. She was always looking out for unfair things that people had done to other people, especially if it involved me.
“Nothing, nothing,” I said.
“What did he do to Owen?” she addressed this to Andre, completely forgetting herself and yanking Andre’s jacket sleeve. Andre looked a bit surprised himself. He smoothed down the material of his jacket (it was probably some fancy European jacket that his father had brought back from some super-suave country).
“He put him in a dog harness and forced him to roll around on the floor,” Andre said.
“It was nothing,” I insisted.
Jeremy’s mouth gawped open. For a moment I thought she was about to bellow. She’s a little bit like a superhero with no superhero talents. She despises bullies and loves underdogs, much like the classic superhero. But she’s thin as a coat hanger and on the shortish side, and all she can do is punch reasonably hard with her bony knuckles. No jet-propelled flying, no invisibility skills.
“I’ll pulverize him,” she said in this quiet voice. It was impressive. Even Andre gave her his full attention for about seven seconds before he turned back to me.
“Tell your mother to call my dad. He might