The Misfits by James Howe Page B

I blame him. What it went like was this:
    Addie: DuShawn, guess what? We’ve come up with a whole new approach to the Freedom Party. You’re going to love it.
    DuShawn: Cool.
    Addie: It’s called the No-Name Party, and what we need is a list of all the names you’ve ever been called.
    DuShawn: Names?
    Addie: Yes, names. Put-downs. You know what I’m talking about.
    DuShawn: Uh-huh. I get your drift. You’re thinkin’ because I’m black I’ve been called names.
    Addie: Haven’t you?
    DuShawn: No.
    Me: Never?
    DuShawn: No. I mean, I know there are bigots out there, okay. And maybe I’m just lucky, but I’ve never had to deal with it.
    Addie: Well, but will you still run for president on our ticket?
    DuShawn: Why do you want me to run, Addie?
    Addie: I told you. You’re smart and ...
    DuShawn: And black, you said so yourself.
    Addie: Well, yes, I guess so, but that’s not...
    DuShawn: That’s not what? You got no end to that sentence. And you got eyes that see no further than the color of my skin.
    Me: Where are you going, DuShawn?
    DuShawn: I’m going to think this over.
    Addie: Well, but, you won’t let us down, will you?
    DuShawn: Who’s lettin’ who down, Addie? There’s somethin’ for
you
to think over.
    â€œDo you think DuShawn’s going to back out?” I ask Addie as I’m slashing a red line through KNOW-IT-ALL.
    Addie shakes her head, exasperated. “I hope not,” she goes. “I tried calling him before coming over here, but his sister said he wasn’t home. I don’t know why he’s being so sensitive. He said himself that the color of his skin is just a fact. The way he said the color of my skin is—”
    â€œLike peach ice cream,” Skeezie pitches in. “Or was it the inside of almonds? The dude is a poet. I’ll tell you something else, Addie: The dude likes you.”
    â€œWhat?!” Addie makes a mess of the circle she’s drawing and crumples up LARDO).
    â€œPrint that one out again,” I tell her, “It’s one of my favorites.”
    â€œI do not know what you’re talking about,” she informs Skeezie, getting that tight-lipped look of hers that makes me think of Ms. Wyman. “There is no wayDuShawn Carter likes me. And I’m not saying that because I’m white and he’s, you know...”
    â€œThe color of night,” says the Skeeze.
    â€œShut
up!”
Addie goes. I am detecting her peach ice-cream cheeks turning the shade of raspberry sherbet. “I am saying he couldn’t like me because he’s always picking on me. Spitballs and whoopee cushions and last week he was poking me all through social studies. I could hardly—”
    â€œBreathe?” I go, and Skeezie and Joe and I crack up.
    â€œYou guys! This is what I get for having three boys as my best friends.”
    â€œCount your blessings,” says Joe. “Girls’d tease you worse. I mean, if we were
girls,
the whole
school
would know you like Colin by now.”
    Joe looks up from REE-TARD and goes, “Oops.”
    Silence takes over the room and holds us hostage. Addie glares first at Joe, then at Skeezie.
    â€œYou told,” she says. “I can’t believe you told.”
    Skeezie runs a hand through his hair. “I, uh, well, I didn’t mean to, it just kind of came out.”
    â€œIt just kind of came out? How lame is that? I can’t believe you told them, Skeezie. You promised.”
    â€œDon’t get mad at Skeezie,” says Joe, “and, anyway, we’re your friends, too. How come you’re keeping secrets from us?”
    All of a sudden it’s Addie who looks like she’s been caught. She glances down at FREAK and meticulously circles it.
    â€œI thought you guys would laugh at me” is what she says when she finally speaks. “I’ve never liked a boy before.”
    â€œSo?” Joe says.