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Small Steps (Holes 2)

Page 33

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“Maybe that’s what she likes about him,” said Roxanne. “The danger!”

“He’s a nice guy,” said Tatiana. “He’s sweet.”

“Sweet? He almost killed two people, girl!” Roxanne reminded her.

“Do you know what they called him at Camp Green Lake?” asked Claire.

“Yes, I know,” said Tatiana.

“Armpit!” Claire said. “Out of all those nasty, sweaty guys, he smelled the worst!”

“It was so bad, even the other sweaty guys noticed,” said Roxanne. “And you know guys! It’s gotta stink really bad before they notice.”

“And you really want to sit next to him, in that hot arena, with everyone all jammed close together?” asked Claire.

“He’ll probably put his big, fat, sweaty arm around you,” said Roxanne.

“I like ‘Red Alert!’?” said Tatiana. “I think it’ll be cool to see Kaira DeLeon sing it in person.”

Armpit stopped in the restroom before school on Friday and splashed his face with cold water. Then he caught up with Tatiana just before she got to class.

“My friend said I could use his car. One of the doors doesn’t open, but at least I got wheels.”

“That’s great,” said Tatiana without looking at him. She entered the classroom and maneuvered her way between the desks. Claire whispered something to her when she sat down, and Tatiana said something back.

Armpit couldn’t hear what they said, but he was able to read Tatiana’s lips. She told Claire to shut up.

He went to work early on Saturday, glad to be doing physical labor so he wouldn’t drive himself crazy thinking about the concert and Tatiana. Hernandez dumped a truckload of dirt in the driveway, and now they mixed it with peat moss before spreading it around the yard.

Better to use a fifty-cent plant and ten-dollar dirt than a ten-dollar plant and fifty-cent dirt. Jack Dunlevy said that all the time.

He got home around four-thirty but didn’t shower right away, or else he’d be all sweaty again by the time he picked up Tatiana. Instead, he went over to Ginny’s.

Ginny’s mother looked all frazzled when she opened the door. “Oh, Theodore, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “Ginny’s— It’s my fault. I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Armpit stepped inside. “Ginny, are you okay?”

She sat on the floor, crying while she hugged Coo.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?”

“My d-d-dad . . .” She was unable to continue.

“Did your dad call?”

Her father had left home when she was a baby.

“He l-left because of m-me. B-because of my disa-b-b-bility.”

“That’s not what I said!” said her mother.

“It’s true!” Ginny exclaimed.

“It wasn’t you. It was the whole situation.”

“If I g-get b-b-better, will he c-come h-h-home?”

Ginny’s mom was crying now too.



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