Blob by Frieda Wishinsky Page B

time-out seat for half an hour for that. What can I do about Zoe? Maybe I could call her a snake. Match her nasty name for nasty name. She’s as skinny as a snake and just as poisonous. But snake doesn’t sound that bad. I have to think of a nastier name.
    I feel a sharp jab in my shoulder. I hear someone yell, “Ouch!”
    I look up.
    I’ve collided with a boy. “Watch where you’re going, stupid,” he snarls.
    â€œSorry,” I say.
    He growls and walks away.
    It’s only 10:00 am, and I hate school already.

“If you let a bully intimidate you, he’s going to do it again.”
    â€”Charles Djou
    chapter three
    Mr. London talks about the books we’ll be reading, the essays we’ll be writing and the exams we’ l l be taking. Why does school always start with lists and schedules?
    Luckily in the last five minutes of class, Mr. London gives me another idea. He tells us about how he volunteered in a literacy program in Africa this summer. He visited an animal preserve and saw lions, tigers and gerenuks, which are a kind of gazelle. He says it’s amazing how tall gerenuks are when you view them up close. He showed us a picture of one and it’s a skinny, weirdlooking animal.
    Gerenuk! That’s what I’ll call Zoe. She probably has no idea what a gerenuk is. It sounds like something ugly though, and if I say it in just the right insulting voice it might work.
    I’ll fire off my insult as soon as Zoe hits me with blob . I have to stand up to Zoe or she’ll never stop. Annie Lucas never stood up to anyone, and the kids pounded her with insults day after day. I can’t let that happen to me.
    I feel better as I head off to art class. Ms. Holmes, my art teacher, only spends ten minutes talking about schedules and rules. We start a project right away. We have to design ads for our favorite food. Favorite food? Easy! Chocolate, of course. I come up with this:
    WANT TO GO TO HEAVEN AND STILL STAY ON EARTH?
    EAT CHOCOLATE.
    Ms. Holmes says it’s original, fun and to the point. I feel great.
    I draw a giant chocolate bar with angel wings. The bar is sailing through the air toward the open hand of a girl. She’s looking longingly up at it. She can’t wait to grab it. Eat it. Enjoy it.
    The bar looks so delicious I want to eat it. I wish I had chocolate with my lunch. But I’d be nuts to eat chocolate. It will only make me blobbier. No matter how much I love chocolate, I have to resist it. It’s healthy food from now till all my fat is gone.
    The bell rings. Kids fly out of classrooms. I walk alone down the crowded hall toward the lunchroom. All I can think about is Zoe and Sarah. What if Zoe has the same lunch hour as us? What if she makes another crack about me in front of everyone? What if Sarah ignores me?
    I tell myself it’s just lunch. It’s not the dentist or jail. But my stomach feels like marbles are banging around inside it. My mouth feels as dry as if I jammed a box of stale crackers into it.
    Halfway down the hall, I hear Zoe behind me. I catch a few words. “Mia, did you see how she…,” she says. “She’s so…” Then she laughs.
    I know she’s talking about me. I know she wants me to hear. I want to turn around and scream at her. I want to tell her to shut up. I want to call her a gerenuk, but I can’t.
    I hurry into the lunchroom. Sarah is sitting at a table alone. I walk over to her.
    â€œHi, Sarah.”
    Sarah looks up from her yogurt. “Oh, hi.”
    â€œSo how was your morning?” I sit beside her on the bench.
    â€œFine.” Sarah’s eyes dart around the room. I glance around and see that Zoe is heading toward us.
    I clench my teeth. I will not move.
    â€œHi, Sarah,” she says. “Oh, hi, Eve.” She eyes my lunch bag. “What do you have in there? I hope it’s not fattening.”
    Sarcasm drips like grease from her mouth. I want to