face on.”
“Go right ahead,” Billy said.
“So cough up the blankie,” the Hoove said, holding out his hand. “I’m going to take it on a practice run up the flagpole, just to make sure there are no last-minute glitches.”
Billy unzipped his backpack and pulled the swatch of blue blanket out of its box. The Hoove wadded it up tightly so that it was no bigger than a marble. As he flew off, he whistled “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad,” and it actually worked this time, making him invisible even to Billy. All he could see of the Hoove was the little blue ball of blanket traveling through the air, looking like a dandelion floating in the breeze.
Billy was actually relieved to be free of the Hoove for a while. He had to focus on what he was about to do. The old doubts were creeping in again, and he had to overcome them. This was no time to be soft on Rod Brownstone. Billy knew his reputation was at stake. Was heforever going to be the good little boy or was he finally going to stand up for himself?
He forced himself to concentrate on what the Hoove had taught him … that the only way to fight a bully was to out-bully him. He repeated that sentence over and over and over again as he turned the corner and walked up the steps and through the doors of Moorepark Middle School.
CHAPTER 14
The trophy case was located in the main hall between the principal’s office and the attendance office. Every kid in school had to pass by it on the way to class. Billy approached the case cautiously, looking both ways down the hall. His stomach was doing somersaults as his mind began to grasp the risk he was about to take. It was not going to be easy to put the note up without being seen. He was going to have to look casual, like he was really interested in examining the school’s athletic history, and at the same time, tape the note to the glass as quickly as he could.
Billy reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He pulled out the roll of Scotch tape he had hidden there, and did exactly what he had practiced the night before, pulling off four equalstrips that he attached to the tips of four of his fingers. Looking intently at the case, as though he had never seen a trophy before, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out the flyer, neatly folded into fourths. He looked around and noticed Ricardo Perez walking up to him.
Oh no
, he thought to himself.
He’s onto me. How could he possibly know what I’m doing?
“Hey, man,” Ricardo said to Billy. “You coming to baseball practice today?”
“Absolutely,” Billy answered, stuffing his hand with the Scotch tape strips into his pocket. He was glad that Ricardo hadn’t put out his hand for a high five. That would have been a very sticky situation.
“Got your gear?” Ricardo asked.
“Oh yeah. I have a whole plastic baggy full of pencils, a sharpener, and a new score pad.”
Ricardo squinted at Billy. “I thought you wanted to make the team,” he said. “Leave the pencils in your backpack, dude. Show the coach you’re a player.”
Ordinarily, Billy would have welcomed this advice, but at the moment, all he wanted was for Ricardo to leave so he could get on with his mission.
“Thanks for the tip,” Billy said. “I’ll see you later. No pencils. That’s a deal.”
Ricardo nodded and walked off, joining some other members of the team as they headed for homeroom. Billy had to act fast, before anyone else noticed he was hanging around the display case. He unfolded the flyer and pulled his hand with the tape strips from his pocket. Unfortunately, all the strips stayed behind, having adhered to the inside fabric. Billy had no choice but to pull the roll of Scotch tape out and start all over again. His hands were shaking as he tore off four more strips.
“Move fast,” he said to himself. “Like a Scotch tape ninja.”
That didn’t make much sense, but the image did the trick for Billy. He deftly tore off the four strips and was just about to
“Go right ahead,” Billy said.
“So cough up the blankie,” the Hoove said, holding out his hand. “I’m going to take it on a practice run up the flagpole, just to make sure there are no last-minute glitches.”
Billy unzipped his backpack and pulled the swatch of blue blanket out of its box. The Hoove wadded it up tightly so that it was no bigger than a marble. As he flew off, he whistled “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad,” and it actually worked this time, making him invisible even to Billy. All he could see of the Hoove was the little blue ball of blanket traveling through the air, looking like a dandelion floating in the breeze.
Billy was actually relieved to be free of the Hoove for a while. He had to focus on what he was about to do. The old doubts were creeping in again, and he had to overcome them. This was no time to be soft on Rod Brownstone. Billy knew his reputation was at stake. Was heforever going to be the good little boy or was he finally going to stand up for himself?
He forced himself to concentrate on what the Hoove had taught him … that the only way to fight a bully was to out-bully him. He repeated that sentence over and over and over again as he turned the corner and walked up the steps and through the doors of Moorepark Middle School.
CHAPTER 14
The trophy case was located in the main hall between the principal’s office and the attendance office. Every kid in school had to pass by it on the way to class. Billy approached the case cautiously, looking both ways down the hall. His stomach was doing somersaults as his mind began to grasp the risk he was about to take. It was not going to be easy to put the note up without being seen. He was going to have to look casual, like he was really interested in examining the school’s athletic history, and at the same time, tape the note to the glass as quickly as he could.
Billy reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He pulled out the roll of Scotch tape he had hidden there, and did exactly what he had practiced the night before, pulling off four equalstrips that he attached to the tips of four of his fingers. Looking intently at the case, as though he had never seen a trophy before, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out the flyer, neatly folded into fourths. He looked around and noticed Ricardo Perez walking up to him.
Oh no
, he thought to himself.
He’s onto me. How could he possibly know what I’m doing?
“Hey, man,” Ricardo said to Billy. “You coming to baseball practice today?”
“Absolutely,” Billy answered, stuffing his hand with the Scotch tape strips into his pocket. He was glad that Ricardo hadn’t put out his hand for a high five. That would have been a very sticky situation.
“Got your gear?” Ricardo asked.
“Oh yeah. I have a whole plastic baggy full of pencils, a sharpener, and a new score pad.”
Ricardo squinted at Billy. “I thought you wanted to make the team,” he said. “Leave the pencils in your backpack, dude. Show the coach you’re a player.”
Ordinarily, Billy would have welcomed this advice, but at the moment, all he wanted was for Ricardo to leave so he could get on with his mission.
“Thanks for the tip,” Billy said. “I’ll see you later. No pencils. That’s a deal.”
Ricardo nodded and walked off, joining some other members of the team as they headed for homeroom. Billy had to act fast, before anyone else noticed he was hanging around the display case. He unfolded the flyer and pulled his hand with the tape strips from his pocket. Unfortunately, all the strips stayed behind, having adhered to the inside fabric. Billy had no choice but to pull the roll of Scotch tape out and start all over again. His hands were shaking as he tore off four more strips.
“Move fast,” he said to himself. “Like a Scotch tape ninja.”
That didn’t make much sense, but the image did the trick for Billy. He deftly tore off the four strips and was just about to
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