The Real Us by Tommy Greenwald

Author:Tommy Greenwald
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

Mr. Cody welcomes me like a long lost friend. “Calista! So good to see you! Grab a seat anywhere, as long as it’s not right next to someone else. We’re not looking for any distractions.”

I look around the room. I see Will Hanson, slouched down, holding his book like it’s a dead rat. I recognize two other kids, Chris and Janelle, but there are four others whose names I don’t know. I remember lunch, and it slowly dawns on me that there are a lot of kids in school I don’t know by name, and have never even spoken to. I feel a weird sense of shame about that for a second, before Mr. Cody jolts me back to reality.

“Ms. Getz? A seat?”

“Oh, sorry … right.”

I find a seat in the back row and plop down.

“Let’s get cracking, shall we? No time like the present!” Mr. Cody takes out a book of his own and sits behind the desk. I open mine and start reading.

It turns out to be really good.

It’s interesting, and the story is intense, and I care about the characters, and I can’t wait to find out what happens next, and—

“Okay, time,” announces a voice.

Wait, what?

I raise my hand. “What do you mean, time?”

“I mean, that’s forty minutes,” says Mr. Cody. “Study hall is over. You’re free to leave.”

I look at the clock. He’s right. Forty minutes have gone by. It seemed like five. Actually, it seemed like none.

“This book isn’t terrible,” offers Will Hanson.

“I’ll be sure to tell the author you said so,” says Mr. Cody.

Will snorts as he gets up. “Later, peeps.”

Mr. Cody shakes his head. “Peeps? Really?”

I start gathering up my stuff, and Mr. Cody comes over to my desk. “You’re enjoying it?”

“Yeah, it’s really good.”

“That’s great.” He takes a seat at the desk next to me. “So how’s that nose of yours?”

“Fine, I guess. Still hurts a little.”

“It does look like it’s getting better.” Mr. Cody claps his hands together. “Anyway, that’s enough learning for today. I received a text from my colleague Coach Sweeney a few minutes ago, she said that you’re running late for practice. You better get going! No contact drills, though. See you tomorrow.”

“Actually, I’m not sure I’m playing soccer this year,” I say. I have no idea why I tell him that, but there it is. Now I’m going to have to hear all about what a bad decision that is, how sports build character, blah blah blah—

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Mr. Cody says.

Huh?

“You do?”

“I totally do.”

“Oh. I thought you were going to say something different.”

“Nope.” Mr. Cody sits back behind his desk. “Couldn’t agree more. Girls shouldn’t play sports.”

I stop in my tracks.

“Excuse me?”

“Girls shouldn’t play sports,” he repeats.

“Are you kidding?” I repeat, as my heart starts to beat a little faster. “Why not?” I’m not sure what I’m feeling at first, then I recognize it. Anger.

“Think of all the stuff you guys have to deal with these days,” Mr. Cody says, and I notice he’s got this quirky smile on his face as he says it.

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