suspension with three extra hours in study hall. A full-blown fist fight with busted lips and bloody noses might result in a three-day suspension, no after-school activities, and one month of probation.
Theo was not a fighter. His last scuffle had been in fourth grade when he and Walter Norris got in a heated wrestling match at the city swimming pool. But as he stood there, frozen, and watched the fight right in front of him, he suddenly had the urge to join it. After all, his friend Woody was slugging it out in defense of his honor. The least Theo could do was go to his rescue. And perhaps a suspension was not the end of the world. His parents would go berserk, but they would eventually settle down. What did his mother say last night? “The first thing you do is fight back. Attack. When you’re right, you never back down.”
Ike would be proud.
Sometimes, a guy has got to fight.
Theo dropped his backpack, yelled something that not even he understood, and jumped into the pile.
Chapter 12
On one side of the table, Baxter sat with Griff, and on the other side Woody sat with Theo. The opposing sides faced each other as the tension slowly faded and reality set in. Baxter had an ice pack on the side of his face and his left eye was swollen and completely closed. It looked awful. Woody was proud, though he suppressed a smile. With suspension coming and angry parents to deal with, smiles were not possible. Griff’s face showed no damage, nor did Woody’s. Theo’s bottom lip was puffy and there was a spot of dried blood on it. He tapped it with a tissue. His more serious wound was a throbbing head, courtesy of a kick at the bottom of the pile by either Baxter or Griff, but he did not mention this.
Mr. Mount sat at the end of the table and stared at the boys. He had angrily pulled them apart and marched them down to the library and into the small study room where they were now sitting and cooling off. As the seconds and minutes ticked by, the boys settled down. Their breathing slowed. Their heart rates were returning to normal. Nothing like a good fight to get the pulse racing and the blood pumping.
“What happened?” Mr. Mount finally asked.
All four boys stared at the table. Nothing. Not a word.
“Could this have anything to do with the rumor that Theo was arrested yesterday?” Mr. Mount asked, looking squarely at Theo, who did not take his eyes off the surface of the table.
Mr. Mount knew that Woody was a hothead and Baxter liked trouble. He also knew that Griff followed Baxter around like a new puppy. He would never believe, though, that Theo Boone would start a fight, or jump into the middle of one. But Mr. Mount had once been a boy, and he understood things. The way he figured it, Baxter and Griff were picking on Theo, and Woody defended his friend.
There were voices outside the room. Mr. Mount said, “I think Mrs. Gladwell is here. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.” With that, he stood and left the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Woody snarled, “Nobody rats, okay? I mean it, nobody rats. Not one word.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the door opened wide and Mrs. Gladwell stormed in. One look, and the boys knew they were dead.
She stared at them as she slowly took a seat at the end of the table. Mr. Mount eased into the room, closed the door, and stood against the wall. He was there as her witness.
“Are you okay, Baxter?” she asked, without a touch of sympathy.
Baxter nodded slightly.
“And Theo? Is that blood on your bottom lip?”
Theo nodded slightly.
She stiffened her spine, frowned even harder, and began, “Well, I want to know what happened.”
Neither boy moved the tiniest muscle. All seven eyes (Baxter had only one workable eye at this point) were glued firmly at something fascinating, though invisible, on the table. Silence, as seconds passed. Her face became redder, her frown even harsher.
“Fighting is a very serious offense,” she lectured. “We do
Theo was not a fighter. His last scuffle had been in fourth grade when he and Walter Norris got in a heated wrestling match at the city swimming pool. But as he stood there, frozen, and watched the fight right in front of him, he suddenly had the urge to join it. After all, his friend Woody was slugging it out in defense of his honor. The least Theo could do was go to his rescue. And perhaps a suspension was not the end of the world. His parents would go berserk, but they would eventually settle down. What did his mother say last night? “The first thing you do is fight back. Attack. When you’re right, you never back down.”
Ike would be proud.
Sometimes, a guy has got to fight.
Theo dropped his backpack, yelled something that not even he understood, and jumped into the pile.
Chapter 12
On one side of the table, Baxter sat with Griff, and on the other side Woody sat with Theo. The opposing sides faced each other as the tension slowly faded and reality set in. Baxter had an ice pack on the side of his face and his left eye was swollen and completely closed. It looked awful. Woody was proud, though he suppressed a smile. With suspension coming and angry parents to deal with, smiles were not possible. Griff’s face showed no damage, nor did Woody’s. Theo’s bottom lip was puffy and there was a spot of dried blood on it. He tapped it with a tissue. His more serious wound was a throbbing head, courtesy of a kick at the bottom of the pile by either Baxter or Griff, but he did not mention this.
Mr. Mount sat at the end of the table and stared at the boys. He had angrily pulled them apart and marched them down to the library and into the small study room where they were now sitting and cooling off. As the seconds and minutes ticked by, the boys settled down. Their breathing slowed. Their heart rates were returning to normal. Nothing like a good fight to get the pulse racing and the blood pumping.
“What happened?” Mr. Mount finally asked.
All four boys stared at the table. Nothing. Not a word.
“Could this have anything to do with the rumor that Theo was arrested yesterday?” Mr. Mount asked, looking squarely at Theo, who did not take his eyes off the surface of the table.
Mr. Mount knew that Woody was a hothead and Baxter liked trouble. He also knew that Griff followed Baxter around like a new puppy. He would never believe, though, that Theo Boone would start a fight, or jump into the middle of one. But Mr. Mount had once been a boy, and he understood things. The way he figured it, Baxter and Griff were picking on Theo, and Woody defended his friend.
There were voices outside the room. Mr. Mount said, “I think Mrs. Gladwell is here. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.” With that, he stood and left the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Woody snarled, “Nobody rats, okay? I mean it, nobody rats. Not one word.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the door opened wide and Mrs. Gladwell stormed in. One look, and the boys knew they were dead.
She stared at them as she slowly took a seat at the end of the table. Mr. Mount eased into the room, closed the door, and stood against the wall. He was there as her witness.
“Are you okay, Baxter?” she asked, without a touch of sympathy.
Baxter nodded slightly.
“And Theo? Is that blood on your bottom lip?”
Theo nodded slightly.
She stiffened her spine, frowned even harder, and began, “Well, I want to know what happened.”
Neither boy moved the tiniest muscle. All seven eyes (Baxter had only one workable eye at this point) were glued firmly at something fascinating, though invisible, on the table. Silence, as seconds passed. Her face became redder, her frown even harsher.
“Fighting is a very serious offense,” she lectured. “We do
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