Wicked Hungry

Change could be good right now.

But if things got worse?

No, forget it. Things can’t get worse. Karen is crazy. I mean, I already have dark black hair all over my chest and back, have loose teeth and aching joints. What next, are my teeth going to fall out? Am I going to sprout fur?

One little pill is not going to kill me.

I’ll take one and see how it affects me. It’s got to be more natural than what the doctor prescribed me, right? It probably won’t hurt me, and what if...what if it helps me? Zach may be a pain, but he’s wicked smart. The boy can grow anything practically just by looking at it, all without chemicals; he hates them so much he wouldn’t take an aspirin if he were dying.

Most of all I don’t see why he’d lie to me about my knee. I might as well trust him. What do I have to lose? But I’ll walk inside to get something to eat first. I don’t want to upset my stomach.

Chapter 7: KAREN WON’T COME OUT

A few days later I can’t say I feel a dramatic change, just more of an absence. It takes me a while to figure it out.

My knee hasn’t ached all day.

And I’m smiling.

My parents can’t understand why. I’m not going to tell them, either.

I take a walk instead, and leave the brace at home. The sun is hot, but the wind is cool, cold almost. Can I catch just a hint of fall color in some of the leaves? Is it really already September? Fall comes so early here in New England.

I walk by Jonathan’s house and think about walking up and knocking. But he’s probably still gone at drawing camp. The boy is going to write some serious graphic novel someday.

Me, I can’t wait until summer is over. I barely see Enrique except when he’s running by; the rest of the time he’s over at the garage, helping his dad and his big brother work on car engines.

Maybe I should walk by Karen’s. Why not? At this hour, her parents are at work. If she can’t come out, maybe she’ll let me in.

I walk up to my house and ring the doorbell, but the house is silent. There’s no movement. No light from inside.

No. I want to talk to her. I’m not just walking away. I can feel her in there somewhere. Smell her floral scent. She’s waiting. Watching.

I bang on the door again.

Suddenly she’s there. I can feel her right on the other side of the door.

“Stanley?” she whispers. “Stanley, what do you want?”

“Can you open the door?” I ask her. “This is kind of awkward.”

She opens it, just a crack. But there’s a chain.

“I don’t want to see anyone right now. I’m still trying to figure things out. Someone is going to help me.”

“Who?” I ask her. “Who’s going to help you? With what?”

“I can’t tell you until later, maybe, after I’ve met her. I really think she can help me.”

“Just open the door. I wanted to tell you something.”

“Tell me, then,” she says, keeping the door shut.

“Nothing, just my knee...it’s feeling better.”

“Wow,” she says. “That’s unexpected. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s amazing. I mean, all that stuff Zach was saying—”