Anavi’s hand trembled around the pen, and I couldn’t imagine that what she was producing on the quiz was legible. But she was trying to take it, trying not to give in. That, I admired.
I scribbled down a few more answers, guessing the whole way and mostly paying attention to Anavi and the whispers. When the egg timer dinged, Anavi jolted in her seat in shock, triggering another round of sarcastic laughter. The girl had completely lost her cool.
While I clung to my spellcheck, I’d seen spelling competitions like the one Anavi had been in. The night before, after my game research, I’d looked up Anavi’s winning year and found a video of the last few rounds.
Some of the participants’ composure had melted away as they got closer to the finish line. But not Anavi’s. She stayed completely cool, calm, and alphabetically collected, right up to the end. Even when she won, the most extreme part of her reaction had been to crack a big smile and pump one fist in the air before walking over and hugging her proud parents.
But here she was, about to pass out over a pop quiz in a subject she usually made A’s in. I wanted to know how she’d done this time.
So I reached over to take her paper to pass it up front, then subtly leaned in when I handed it to Devin. “Give it a quick look,” I told him.
Even if I hadn’t witnessed how Anavi’s pen shook, the quality of the marks on the sheet made it plain. Devin skimmed the page and murmured, “This is weird.”
“What?”
But Ms. Johnson hovered over us, her hand outstretched. Devin accepted my quiz and added his own, handing them to her.
Once she walked away, he said, “They were wrong. All of them. Nothing even close to right. Like I said, Anavi was acing this class. She’s as good at this stuff as anyone in here.”
The Warheads stared over at us.
And there it was. I had earned the full smirk. From all of them.
That was better than them being focused on Anavi. So I accepted it and sent back a look of challenge of my own, proud.
Until I glanced over and caught the expression on Anavi’s face. It was even more pained than it had been before.
For the rest of the class period, she sat folded in on herself, with only an occasional movement.
Every time, it was that same unnatural jerk, a flinch like an invisible fist had just punched her or a voice was hissing insults in her ear.
If there was one thing I hated, it was bullies.
CHAPTER 5
Finding Anavi in the crowded cafeteria at lunch was harder than I expected. But eventually I ferreted out her near-hidden spot in one of the back corners. Alone, which wasn’t a surprise. After what I’d witnessed in class, I felt sorry for her. I’d have to ask Devin if her being a loner was new behavior.
“You mind?” I scooted the chair opposite Anavi out with my boot and gingerly put down my lunch tray. I didn’t want to spook her.
The pizza on my plate was the sad-slice variety, staple of food courts and gas stations everywhere. But it was still pizza, and more recognizable than most of the other cafeteria offerings. And I was starving.
Meanwhile, Anavi was busy staring at me, wide-eyed. “Um, sincere apologies, but—”
“I’m sorry that you do mind. But I’m staying. Don’t worry, I’m not offended that you don’t want me to. My feelings don’t bruise easily.” Or at least I was good at pretending they didn’t. I sat down, putting my bag on the table beside me. “You should know I’m going to help you. Bullies like the Warheads don’t work like adults usually say. It’s not that they’re all talk and you just have to stand up to them. It’s that talk can be bad enough, but usually they’re more than willing to act too. And from what I saw earlier, it’s pretty clear these guys are not shy about acting.”
Anavi didn’t interrupt, which I took as a positive sign. I went on.
“Whatever those creepy Warheads creeps are doing to you, it’s wrong. I know there’s more to it than whispers.” Here it was. I was going to talk about things most people would call crazy with someone besides SmallvilleGuy. I didn’t see any other way to convince Anavi that I was on her side. “What you told the principal? After this morning, I believe you. I’m not going to leave you to deal with them by yourself.”
Anavi swallowed, but she didn’t speak.
I gave her time while I took a bite of pizza. Definitely sad, but, again, still pizza.
“Why?” Anavi asked finally, the question forcing its way out.
“Because they’re jerks of the highest magnitude,” I said, trying to speak the girl’s language. “The principal shouldn’t be letting them get away with tormenting you, or anything else. I didn’t like the way the teacher acted around them either. Like she was intimidated, afraid to put them in their place. Something’s definitely wrong here.”
I set down the sad pizza slice, puzzled again by how willing the adults were to indulge the Warheads’ behavior.