SIX
In gym class, more wasps were swarming on the soccer field, and they were more aggressive than ever. Coach Glandis kept the students indoors, in the gymnasium, and drilled them on formations until the end of the period.
In the middle of language arts class, a flurry of yellow butterflies burst out of a ventilation duct and chased Mr. Loomis all around his desk.
At lunchtime, a minor panic erupted when Patrick Caulfield discovered a pill bug crawling out of his black bean burrito. Pill bugs look an awful lot like black beans, and soon everyone with a burrito was freaking out. Dozens of meals were tossed uneaten into the trash.
By the end of sixth period, hundreds of flypaper strips were hanging in all the hallways. They looked like greasy yellow party streamers decorated with twitching black polka dots. The students had to duck to avoid running into them.
But Robert’s strangest encounter was still to come. As he was walking to Science, his last class of the day, he spotted a familiar figure in the hallway.
“Glenn!” he called.
Robert almost didn’t recognize his friend. Most days, Glenn wore the same green army jacket and tattered blue jeans. But today he was decked out in all-new clothes: new pants, new boots, a new hooded sweatshirt. Robert ran to catch up with him.
“I didn’t think you were in school today,” he said.
Glenn shrugged and kept walking. “I am.”
“You feel better?”
“Sure.”
“How’s the bite?”
“Fine.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes.”
But things were not all right. This was not how their conversations normally went. His best friend was speaking in a flat monotone. He seemed a million miles away.
“Are you coming over for dinner tonight?”
“What?”
“My mom cooks extra for you,” Robert explained. “She needs to know if you’re coming.”
“I’m not coming.”
“Why not?”
“I have plans.”
“Plans? What plans?” It didn’t make any sense. Robert might as well have been talking to a complete stranger. “Did I do something wrong?”
Glenn turned to face him and spoke very clearly: “Dude, don’t you get it? I want you to leave me alone.”
Back in sixth grade, before the boys were friends, Glenn used to torment Robert all the time. He was always giving him arm burns and noogies and purple herbies. But none of those pranks ever hurt as much as that one simple sentence: I want you to leave me alone.
Robert stopped walking and watched Glenn disappear into the crowd. He thought about the crazy wasp and the hideous boil growing on the back of Glenn’s neck.
He realized he couldn’t see the boil any longer.
It was concealed by the brand-new hooded sweatshirt that had mysteriously become part of Glenn’s wardrobe.