Small Steps - Louis Sachar [44]
I’m so mad Dr. Doofus showed up when he did. That’s my new name for him. He’s a doctor of doofology.
I think you were going to kiss me. I know I wanted you to kiss me. I still do. Oh, so much!
God, this is even worse than yesterday’s letter! You know, I almost sent it to you. I put a stamp on it and everything. There was a mail slot by the elevator. I held the letter over the slot. I’d lift one finger, then another. It was kind of like standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering what it would be like to jump.
Do you think I’m insane? Of course not, because you’re not reading this.
When I sing love songs, it helps for me to picture someone in my mind. I used to just make up some imaginary boy of my dreams and sing about him. He looked nothing like you. He was much more handsome. Just kidding. Anyway, now, when I sing those songs, I picture you.
Don’t get all freaked out. I’m not saying I love you. It just helps me sing the songs.
I wonder what you’d think if you actually read this.
Okay, Kaira, this is getting scary. You’re not going to mail this letter. You’re not! You’re not! No way!!!!
Okay, I’m going to have to write something really embarrassing now. Then I can be sure I’ll never mail it.
Okay, here goes.
I liked it when I touched your armpit. It made me feel all goosey inside.
Aaaah!
Oh, I miss you so much!!!!
XOXOXOX
Kaira
23
“Wow,” Armpit said, then read the letter again. He imagined her holding the envelope above a mail slot, closing her eyes, and letting it go. Maybe she screamed.
He wished he knew how to get in touch with her. He looked at the back of the T-shirt. She probably was in Los Angeles now, but he had no idea what hotel she was staying at, or what TV character’s name she was using.
It was too bad she didn’t include her cell phone number, but why would she? She never planned to mail the letter.
The phone rang.
He grabbed it before the second ring. “Hello?”
“Theodore, good, I’m glad you’re home.”
It was Detective Newberg.
“We’ve got a suspect down at the station. I’d like you to be here while I question him.”
He didn’t know what to say. “I have to go to work. I only just got home from school.”
“What time do you need to be there?”
“One o’clock. I don’t even know the address of where I’m supposed to be.”
“I can have an officer take you wherever you need to go.”
“And I got to eat lunch first.”
“What kind of pizza do you like?”
“Pizza? Uh, pepperoni.”
“I’ll send a patrolman to get you.”
He hung up with Detective Newberg and called Raincreek. He got the address and left a message that he might be a little late, and that he wouldn’t need Hernandez to give him a ride.
Less than ten minutes later a patrol car pulled into the driveway.
“Can I sit in the front seat?” Armpit asked. “I don’t want my neighbors to think I’m being arrested again.”
He regretted those words as soon as they escaped his mouth, but the police officer just said, “Sure, hop in.” Maybe the officer hadn’t heard him exactly. Or else the cops already knew about his criminal record.
The police station was a three-story stucco building. Armpit recognized the place. It was where he had been taken after the fight in the movie theater.
A sign warned that all visitors were subject to search, but he just walked through the metal detector and went with the officer up to the second floor.
Detective Newberg stepped out of a room, saw Armpit, and gave him a little wave. “Come have a look,” she said, then put her finger to her lips, indicating for him to be quiet.
He went with her back into the room, which was dark and smelled like pizza. One slice had already been eaten from the box on the table.
“It’s good pizza,” said Debbie Newberg. Her cheeks reddened.
A window looked out into another room. The room was almost identical to his but brightly lit. X-Ray was sitting at a table, his fingers drumming nervously. Armpit could hear the tapping through the speakers on the wall.
“Is that Habib?” Detective Newberg asked quietly.
He almost laughed but then just shook his head.
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely