AWOL in North Africa by Steve Watkins

Author:Steve Watkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2016-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

When the letters didn’t come after a few days from John Wollman III, Julie emailed him again. It took another day to get a response, and it wasn’t much. Just, Oh yeah. I forgot to put them in the mail. I’ll do that today.

“Not even an ‘I’m sorry’ or anything,” Julie said. We were at band practice and trying to focus on the set we would be playing at the next open mic competition, which would be our third one.

“I think we need a new song,” Greg said. We had our standards — this antibullying song that Julie wrote, plus a song about hamsters that Julie also wrote. We’d gone back and forth on the third song.

“What about something a little different,” Julie said, grinning. Clearly she had something in mind already.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like rap,” she said. “And I could do it. That way it wouldn’t all have to be about you being the lead singer, with all the pressure and everything.”

“Good call,” Greg said. “And we all know what pressure can do to you, Anderson.” He pretended to barf. I didn’t think it was funny, but Julie did. I hated it when those two ganged up on me like that.

“So let’s hear it,” I said. “Your big rap number.”

Julie shook her head. “I haven’t exactly written it yet. But I will.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Greg said. “Why don’t you write it about Belman. You know, making fun of him or something. That can be how we get back at him for the rubber chicken and the potatoes.”

“I have a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t we send an anonymous note to his parents and tell them about the potato cannon and get him in trouble.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “And we can hold the rubber chicken for ransom while we’re at it. I’m sure it’s a family heirloom and they’ll pay plenty to get it back.”

Greg and I both knew she was making fun of us. Or I thought Greg and I both knew that. Then he said, “You know, that just might work. And that way we could get the money back that you spent paying John Wollman III for the letters!”

Julie turned back to her keyboard, not even bothering to respond, except to say, “Can we please just get back to practicing?”

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