The Junior Novel by Calliope Glass

Author:Calliope Glass
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Billy’s new body was great for lots of things, but sneaking wasn’t one of them. It also didn’t help that he had a stomachache after drinking about thirty slushies. He had the worst sugar headache of his entire life, and his tongue was probably stained blue permanently. He didn’t need to see it in a mirror to know that. It felt blue.

“Shhhh,” Freddy hissed at him as Billy tripped over a footstool in the dark living room of the group home.

“Sorry,” Billy whispered. He couldn’t figure out how Freddy was managing to be so quiet. After all, he’d had the other half of the slushies, and he wasn’t even a super hero.

Squeak! went the floorboard at the base of the stairs as Billy stepped on it.

“Dude!” Freddy whispered.

“Sorry!” Billy said again.

“Why are we even here?” Billy whispered as they climbed the stairs. “I can’t stay here looking like this!”

“Yeah,” Freddy agreed, looking back at him. “You’re definitely going to need a lair or something. But we’ll have to make this work for tonight.”

Suddenly, Freddy froze on the stairs. He held a hand up. Below them, the front hall brightened as the kitchen light went on. Billy could hear Victor and Rosa in the kitchen.

“The kids said he ran off after school,” Rosa said. Her voice sounded tired and sad. “We couldn’t even keep him here two days.”

“You and I both ran away at least a couple of times back in our foster kid days,” Victor said. “Even Mary’s run off once or twice.”

Rosa sighed. “This could have been home for him,” she said. Something in Billy’s heart twanged painfully.

“Baby, do you remember what you told me the second time Mary ran away?” Victor asked. “You said, ‘Home isn’t something you’re given, it’s something you choose.’ He has to choose.”

Ahead of Billy, Freddy started back up the stairway. Billy followed him, but his heart was still beating fast in his chest. Something about the way Rosa had sounded. Something about what Victor had said. It was hard not to care—hard not to wish things could be different.

Billy was so distracted thinking about it that he tripped over his own feet, slamming his knee loudly (and painfully) into one of the steps.

“Mmmph!” He tried to smother his own yelp, but he still made way more noise than he meant to.

There was a startled silence from the kitchen. Ahead of Billy, Freddy put his face into his palm and shook his head.

“Who’s there?” Rosa called.

“Uh,” Freddy said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile, “it’s just me! Freddy! Just Freddy. All by himself. Myself. Going to bed. In my room. All by myself.”

“Weak,” Billy whispered. “Super weak.”

“Shut! Up!” Freddy hissed.

“Good night, Freddy,” Victor called up. “Try to get some rest.”

“Night,” Freddy called.

“Night,” Billy said automatically, his deep adult voice booming. Oh, crap. He clapped both hands over his mouth, but it was too late.

Freddy stared at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now?!” he whisper-shouted at Billy. Billy stared at him mutely, his hands still over his mouth.

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