On Thin Ice by Michael Northrop

Author:Michael Northrop
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2019-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

I SLIP INTO SCHOOL on Tuesday with my new supplies rattling around in my backpack. I stash them in my locker and all day long I feel like I’ve got a secret. I keep my distance when I pass Landrover in the hallway, but I’m smiling to myself. You didn’t beat me.

Steering clear of him means steering clear of maker space during the day. (If going was even an option, stuffed full of his jerk friends.) I think it’s okay, though. Fingers crossed, I should have everything I need to finish the engine now, and the rest of the bike isn’t so bad. The wheels are still holding air, and they seem to roll and stop fine. The frame needs to be straightened out in a few places and repainted, but that seems pretty straightforward.

The paper comes out Wednesday, and I figure a buyer will contact me right away—I mean, it’s a Road Rokkit. (Okay, maybe “hope” is a better word than “figure.” Okay, maybe “pray.”) But that would still mean selling it Thursday or Friday at the earliest. That’s cutting it close on the rent. And I still have to get everything put back together and running. But—and this is a BIG BUT—I’m starting to see a way that this could all work. So, yeah, I’ll steer clear of Landrover. None of this works if I’m dead.

Of course, not being in the maker space during the day means I’m back in the caf at lunch. And that’s nothing to smile about. I radar-scan the room as I navigate my tray to that same empty table in the back corner. I got the hot lunch today—reduced price, but not free.

At least the back corner’s a good perch to watch the action. I see a flash of purple float by: Esme. She lands at a table half-full of eighth-grade girls. Everyone’s more popular than me. But if she’s in here, then she’s not in maker space either. Just after school. Is it just Landrover’s friends taking up the spots, I wonder, or is it something else?

I see Danny with his new crew, and Maps with a table of jock royalty—it’s like the Knights of the Round Table but for basketball. Maps saved my bacon yesterday, but he still feels so far away most of the time, like I’m looking up at him from the bottom of a lake. I walked by him this morning, and I was going to say hi. Just hi, that’s it. But he was surrounded by his super-cool friends like usual. Surrounded by guys who don’t even know I exist. So I just kept my head down and walked by.

I move on to the weirdly powdery chocolate pudding. The truth is, when I imagine my life here how I want it to be, when I just let my mind go for it and picture myself happy and surrounded by friends, it’s not new friends. It’s those guys again: Nephi, Danny, and Maps. Maybe that’s pathetic—I don’t know.

I do know this: When I look over at Danny and Maps, I don’t see them laughing much.

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