Read Online Reluctantly Alice by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor - Free Book Online Page B

never been in the school newspaper. Now everyone knew I was a seventh grader. Somebody tried to grab my arm and stop me just before I ducked into Language Arts, but I made it. I even got there before Denise and sat with my heart pounding. When she came in, she gave me her usual “poor you” smile and said nothing.
    I don’t think the teachers even knew about SGSD yet. Miss Summers, who wears Obsession perfume (I know because she smells just like Crystal Harkins, and that’s what Crystal wears), talked about words that had more than one meaning, such as “funny,” which could mean either hilarious or peculiar, and I decided that the most peculiar thing of all was that there was torture and horror going on right under the teachers’ noses and they didn’t even recognize it.
    By lunchtime, no one had caught me yet, but I could see Denise and her friends eyeing me from three tables away. When they left the cafeteria before I did, I knew they were up to something.
    â€œWell, I haven’t been stopped all morning!” said Pamela, and I think she actually was disappointed. “All this worry for nothing. I’m going right out on the school steps after lunch and get some sun.”
    â€œI’m going to go in a restroom and bolt the door to a toilet stall and sit there till the bell rings,” Elizabeth said shakily.
    â€œWhat about the library?” I asked.
    â€œI already looked,” Elizabeth said. “There are ninth graders stationed at both ends of the hall. They grab you before you even get to the door.”
    I wasn’t going to sit outside with Pamela, but I wasn’t going to lock myself in a stall, either. If Denise saw me going into a restroom, she’d simply corner me. I tried to think of where I could go that kids usually didn’t and finally decided on the faculty parking lot. I’d sit down between the principal’s and the vice principal’s cars. It was the only place I could think of that I had any chance at all.
    When we were through eating, I walked to the main door of the cafeteria and peered out to make sure Denise wasn’t there. Then, while Elizabeth headed for a restroom and Pamela went right out the front entrance, just begging to be caught, I slipped around a side door and headed across the grass toward the faculty lot.
    I could hear someone singing the school song in front of the building. I saw a girl backed up against a tree out near the sidewalk, a group of older students gathered around her saying, “Second verse! Louder!”
    And just as I started down the row of parked cars, I saw Denise and her gang coming toward me. I stopped, and it seemed as though the whole world had stopped turning.
    It was sort of like standing out in the middle of the road watching a truck bear down on you. I knew that if I turned around and ran, they’d catch me. If I went left, Iwas up against the brick building. If I went right, I’d be out in the middle of traffic. If I continued straight ahead . . .
    This is what it’s like to die, I told myself, and leaned against a car as Denise came toward me.
    â€œHey, Widdle Alwice,” said Denise.
    I tried smiling. I couldn’t even fake it.
    â€œYour mama teach you to sing?” Denise went on, and the three other girls giggled. One was tall and stoop-shouldered, one was short and square, and the other had a face full of zits. They were four girls who acted as though nobody could possibly like them very much, so nobody did.
    â€œWe want to hear the school song,” the tall one said, squinting her eyes at me.
    The short girl started yelping, “Song! Song!” to call other kids over, and people started coming from all directions, like ants at a picnic.
    Denise nudged my arm. “We’re waiting,” she said. “Sing.”
    â€œI—I can’t,” I said. “I know the words, but I can’t sing. I can say them for you, though.”
    Did