Read Online Bullyville by Francine Prose - Free Book Online Page B

that.” And now, it seemed, he did think about it. After a while, he said, “It was probably his dad’s idea. His dad has this big thing about making him a better person. Making all of us better people.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “I feel like a better person already. So what did they do to Tyro after the new kid freaked out and left school?”
    Seth looked at me as I’d asked him why day follows night, or why the earth revolves around the sun. “Duh-uh,” he said. “Nothing.”
    â€œWhy not?” I said.
    â€œBecause his dad gives a fortune to the school. He owns some kind of bank or something. Or maybe an insurance company. A big corporation, anyway. They’re loaded. Tyro gets everything hewants. Dude, haven’t you seen his car ?”
    â€œWhat car?” I said.
    â€œHe’s got that white Escalade they let him park in the faculty lot.”
    â€œAn Escalade? A kid drives an Escalade ?”
    â€œCome on,” said Seth. “You don’t think anyone on the faculty could afford a ride like that.”
    â€œDr. Bratton’s got a Yukon,” I said.
    â€œBratwurst?” said Seth. “Everybody says that Tyro’s dad bought that Yukon for Bratwurst after the trouble Tyro had with the new kid last year. Look, can we stop talking about Tyro? It makes me nervous just to mention the guy.”
    We rode the rest of the way in silence. When Seth got off the bus, he didn’t even say good-bye.
    Finally, we got to my stop. There it was—my house! All the lights were blazing. And the truth was, my plain little house had never looked more beautiful than it did that day as we pulled up in front of it.
    Just as Dr. Bratton had promised, I got back so late that my mom was already home from her newjob, and the house was full of wonderful food smells. If I wasn’t mistaken, Mom was making her special pot roast and potatoes. My favorite. Wait until I told Mom that I hadn’t even had lunch!
    I found her in the kitchen, flushed and happy from cooking. She turned to look at me. I guess she was trying to tell from my face, before I had a chance to say anything, how my first day at school had gone. I tried to arrange my features in the most miserable and sour expression, but the truth was, there was no way I could look glum enough to show her just how much I’d enjoyed my introduction to Bullywell.
    Our eyes met, and in that instant, I saw how the last month must have looked, from my mom’s point of view, the terrible sorrow and confusion of having Dad die so horribly before they could begin to sort things out. I saw what it must have felt like to know that she’d been just a few degrees of fever—my fever—away from dying herself and leaving me to…what? To be raised by Gran or one of the aunts? I saw how terrifyingit had been for her.
    Mostly I saw how desperately she wanted things to be positive and normal, how much she needed me to like my new school, how badly she wanted me to appreciate the privileged education that had come as a gift, a pitiful consolation prize for all that pain and disaster. She wanted me to have the kind of education she thought I’d get at Baileywell. Or maybe she wanted me to get to know rich, powerful people—or, at least, rich kids who would grow up to be powerful people—as if that could somehow protect me and keep me safe. But didn’t she know that plenty of rich and powerful people had died, along with Dad, along with weak and poor ones? And didn’t she understand that there was nothing safe about Bullywell?
    At that moment, I understood that even with the new and better job, the new clothes, even with the satisfaction of firing Caroline, she wasn’t a new person. What had happened to Mom—to us both—would never just go away. Life would never be the same for her, she might never completelyrecover. And the strangest part was, it was as if Dr. Bratwurst was