Don't Care High by Gordon Korman

People will think you’re nuts.”
    â€œI mean, he’s got life right where he wants it! Picture this: It’s the Battle of Waterloo, and Napoleon’s forces are in ruins. Wellington demands that the French surrender, and Napoleon says, ‘There are a lot of things in this war I don’t understand.’”
    â€œI don’t see the connection.”
    â€œIt’ll come to you,” Sheldon promised. “But when we picked Mike to be student body president, we picked a great man. I can’t wait till next week when
The Otis Report
will have had a chance to sink in.”
    * * *
    At three o’clock in the morning, Paul was awakened from a deep sleep by the persistent shaking of his shoulders. He sat up to find his mother standing over him.
    â€œWake up, Paul.”
    Paul rubbed his eyes. “What’s the matter?”
    â€œYour cousins Cheryl and Lisa are here.”
    Paul looked at his clock radio. “It’s after three. Why can’t they come visiting at a decent hour?”
    â€œPaul, don’t be uncooperative!” his mother admonished him. “Poor Auntie Nancy! Fluffy got sprayed by a skunk.”
    â€œFluffy,” Paul repeated dazedly. There was another sore point. Other people loved their dogs; Auntie Nancy was absurd about Fluffy. From years back, he could recall his aunt telling him, “Fluffy is not a dog. She’s a little girl with long ears and a fur coat.”
    Paul yawned. “Why are you waking me up to tell me about this tragedy?”
    â€œWell, you see, Fluffy went in the house, and now everything smells just terrible. The poor girls couldn’t sleep, so they phoned and asked if they could come here.”
    â€œAnd you said sure,” Paul sighed wearily. “Is Auntie Nancy here, too?”
    â€œOh no. She’s at home with Fluffy.”
    Paul nodded sagely. “The captain stays with the stinking ship.”
    â€œDon’t be insensitive, young man. Now, come on. Out of bed. I told Cheryl and Lisa that you’d be happy to sleep on the couch so they could have your room until things are back to normal at their house.”
    â€œTell them I was misquoted,” muttered Paul sourly.
    But in the end, Paul had to make do in the den while his cousins, smelling faintly of skunk, took possession of his room, which was, Paul decided, true to the direction his life was taking. The Steves of this world may be masters of their own fate, but Paul Abrams goes where he’s pushed.

8
    T he fumigation of Auntie Nancy’s house and decontamination of its resident canine took all weekend, and Paul was forced to spend Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights in the den. He did not sleep well, as the couch seemed to have several sizeable lumps which, for some reason, could not be found when his mother lay down to check out his complaints. Paul, in his sleepless frenzy, kept imagining large, beetlelike creatures crawling around below his body.
    The small shift in location gave him a whole new angle from which to watch the apartment building across the street. The poker game had reconvened, but he could barely see it; although from this new perspective he discovered Rabbit Man. Rabbit Man lived at the corner of the building on about the thirty-fifth floor level, and every night he dressed himself in a bunny suit, sat in the window and ate carrots. The first night, Paul had thought the man was on his way to a costume party; now he didn’t know what to think.
    Then there was the couple in the apartment adjoining the Abrams’. The elderly pair who, according to Paul’s mother, “have been married forty-three years and have the most wonderful relationship,” came to blows that weekend, hurling abuse and crockery at one another. Although not as instructive as the continuing adventures of Steve on the apartment’s other border, they were much more interesting, and a lot louder.
    To make matters worse, Sheldon