The Great Gilly Hopkins

d piece of gum before Gilly’s nose. “Want some bubble gum?”

Oh, what the heck. The queen had used Rumpelstiltskin, hadn’t she? Agnes might come in handy some day. The trick was in knowing how to dispose of people when you were through with them, and Gilly had had plenty of practice performing that trick.

She took the gum without speaking. Agnes flushed with pleasure. “See that kid over by the fence? The one with the big nose? Her mother run away with a sailor last May.”

“So?”

Agnes put her hand up and whispered behind it. “My grandma says the whole family’s nothing but trash.”

“Yeah?” Gilly smacked her gum noisily. “What’s your grandma say about your family?”

Agnes went as stiff as a dried sponge. “Who’s been telling lies about my family?”

“Lucky guess.”

“They’re coming back. Both of them.”

“Sure.”

“Well, they are. Probably before Christmas.”

“OK, OK, I believe you.”

Agnes’s eyes darted back and forth in their sockets, studying Gilly’s expressionless face. “Are you making fun of me?” she asked finally.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Agnes’s uncertainty wavered. “I know a lot more stuff,” she said. “You know—junk about people around here.”

“I bet you do, sweetheart.” Gilly carefully blew a mediumsized bubble, which popped dangerously close to Agnes’s stringy red hair.

Agnes let out a sharp little laugh. “Watch it!” she said nervously. The first bell rang. “See you at recess?”

Gilly shrugged and headed for Harris 6. “Maybe,” she said.

Although a part of Gilly’s head wanted to get on with her schemes of how to get Mr. Randolph’s money, once she crossed the threshold of Harris 6, she forced herself to concentrate on her lessons. She had made up her mind that first day to pay attention in Miss Harris’s class. She wasn’t going to let a bunch of low-class idiots think they were smarter than she was. It was infuriating to find herself behind in almost every subject, but she knew that the fault lay in Hollywood Gardens Elementary and not in herself. She would work madly until she had not only caught up with but passed them all, and then she’d skid to a total halt. That kind of technique drove teachers wild. They took it personally when someone who could obviously run circles around the rest of the class completely refused to play the game. Yep. And in Miss Harris’s case that was just how Gilly wanted it taken.

At lunchtime Agnes’s class had gotten to the cafeteria first, so when Gilly left the line, Agnes was already seated and waved her over to her table. Gilly would have preferred to eat alone. Agnes wasn’t the most appetizing luncheon companion, but since Gilly had decided Agnes might sometime come in handy, she might as well get used to her. She went over and sat down opposite Agnes, who smiled like a cartoon cat across the trays. “I get free lunch, too,” she said.

Gilly glared at her. Nobody was supposed to know who got free lunch and who didn’t. So much for privacy. The first thing she was going to teach Agnes Stokes was when to keep her big mouth shut.

“You know, don’t you, Agnes, it makes me sick just looking at you?”

Agnes gave her kicked-dog expression. “Wha’cha mean?”

“Nothing personal. You just make me sick—that’s all.”

Agnes jerked the cafeteria bench closer to the table and started to roll up her dragging shirtsleeves.

“It’s nothing personal,” Gilly continued. “In fact, you probably can’t help it. I don’t blame you. I’m just not going to put up with it.”

“Put up with what?”

Gilly leaned way across the table and right into Agnes’s pink face. “Your big mouth!”

Agnes tilted backward to get her face out of Gilly’s leering one. People were staring at them. They both straightened up, but Gilly kept the leer in place.

“I ain’t got no big mouth,” Agnes said quietly.