Gifted by Beth Evangelista Page B

not
that
bad,” said the Bruder, defending me. I thought,
Not that bad? Whatever happened to gum-drop with a capital “G”?
    â€œHe is
that
bad! He’s pompous and overbearing!”
    â€œStill, he
is
gifted,” said Mrs. Love thoughtfully, summing me up in her own neat way. “I suppose Mr. Clark thinks we’re lucky to have him.”
    Her words seemed to hang in the air as the teachers mulled this over, or maybe they’d only paused in order to curse me under their collective breath. I didn’t really know.
    What I did know was that time stood still, and for a long while I just sat there. Not thinking. I couldn’t think. It was like I was numb all over. If somebody had come along and kicked me hard in the stomach, I probably wouldn’t have felt it.
    So I just sat there.

Chapter 19
    There’s no telling how long I might have sat there. What brought me morosely to my feet were the words, “Gifted? He’s just a pompous snot with a superiority complex!” uttered passionately by that anonymous male voice. I got up slowly and, taking the long way around the mess hall, staggered off in a daze to the solitude of Cabin F. I’d left my ginger ale untouched in the sand. It must have been its discovery that made my music teacher come looking for me.
    I don’t know how he found me. I had become as invisible as possible, buried deep inside my sleeping bag with just the tip of my nose sticking out. I would have kept that inside, too, and zipped the bag up over my head and let that be the end of that except I didn’t think I’d have the stamina. I’d just have to let Sam and Jason finish me off in Their own way whenever They had the time. Granted, Their way would not be quite as neat as my way would have been, but I felt sure it would be considerably quicker. I would leave it to theexperts and make everybody happy. Suddenly a hand shook my shoulder.
    â€œGeorge, you need to see the nurse. No arguments now. I can see that you’re hurt.”
    â€œI’m not hurt.”
    â€œThen what’s the problem?”
    The problem? My mind had just flashed
The George R. Clark Story: Random Scenes from the Past
. Stupid memories like Mr. Caruso sitting beside me on the bench and agreeing that any idiot could hit a line drive but it took a special person to keep the score as neatly and as accurately as I did.
The big liar
. But one could expect as much from a man who chewed the same wad of gum twenty-four seven, even while sucking down Gatorade. A man whose cross-trainers were always sparkling white because he never took part in his own war games. He was just a clapper and a whistler! A pair of ladies’ four-inch stiletto heels would have served him just as well! I didn’t care what he thought.
    What
hurt
was remembering all the time I’d spent in the science lab with Mrs. Love. And all the talks. Deep, intellectual talks, usually about something I’d just read in
Popular Science
involving two-headed livestock. Come to think of it, Mrs. Love had never really said much when we’d talked, but she’d always looked awfully enthralled. At least she’d moved her eyebrows up and down a lot as I spoke. Now I knew she was just praying silently that when the bell rang, I would go home and trip over a rug wrinkle and break my neck. She would have paid to see that.
Oh my God!
    And all the carefully misspelled notes slid through the vents in my locker asking me to make the world a better place and just die already. I had always imagined theywere from some of the more academically impaired members of the student body. Now I wasn’t so sure. They might easily have been put there by the begemmed hand of Mrs. Bruder after a couple of swift looks over her shoulder.
    I could have kicked myself for being so gullible. And I would have done so had my sleeping bag provided more leg room. It was humiliating! The whole world had lined up against me, and