Read Online Schooled by Gordon Korman - Free Book Online Page B

bigger successes. They say the apple never falls far from the tree, you know.”
    “Rain,” I reminded her gently, “that sounds like a negativity trip.”
    Rain taught me that when people are negative, they’re trying to put duct tape on their own damaged souls. And while we were all for using duct tape on a drainpipe or a fender, it could never hold together something as important as a soul.
    “You’re right,” she admitted with a sigh. “It’s hard to stay positive when you’re surrounded by psychic zombies. I find myself slipping back to the Dark Ages before Garland. Yesterday I made a hand gesture to one of the so-called doctors—let’s just hope it was muscle memory from my taxi-driving career.”
    It made me feel weird to hear Rain speaking ill about Sophie without even meeting her. Of course, I was partly to blame for that. I’d told Rain some of the mean stuff Sophie had said and done. I had to tell her the good about Sophie, but it was hard to nail down. Like when Sophie smiled, just for that instant, there was almost no such thing as sadness. Would Rain even understand that? I wasn’t sure I did myself.
    Everything about Sophie had a kind of shine to it. After years of studying art with Rain, I still couldn’t remember a color as intense as the glitter polish Sophie painted on her toenails. Even her shelf in the bathroom was a wondrous sight—a skyline of bottles, tubes, and jars of all shapes and hues. And the names! Passion Fruit Heel Softener with Volcanic Pumice; Bird of Paradise Exfoliating Scrub; Honey-Infused Moisturizing Lotion with Ylang Ylang. I used her Pomegranate Shampoo with Giga-Volumizing Power once, and when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe my eyes. My hair was standing up straight in all directions—a huge sphere of blond fuzz surrounding me like a giant halo.
    I tried brushing it down, but all it did was crackle and stand even stiffer. Somehow this Giga-Volumizing Power filled your hair with static electricity as if you’d stuck your finger in a light socket.
    To make matters worse, there was urgent pounding, and Sophie snarled, “Get out of there! You’re hogging the bathroom!”
    When I opened the door, she stumbled back three steps and gawked at me. “I’ve heard of bad hair days, but wow! You look like your head exploded!”
    “I tried your shampoo,” I confessed.
    She was disgusted. “If you’re going to use the Giga-Volumizer, you’ve got to use the conditioner that comes with it. Otherwise you might as well be pumping ten thousand volts through your hair.”
    I must have looked completely helpless, because she took pity on me. She grabbed a bottle, marched me to the kitchen, and shoved my head in the sink. As she wet me down with the vegetable sprayer, I could feel my hair collapsing from its planetoid shape.
    “When was your last haircut?” Sophie marveled.
    “I’ve never had one,” I replied.
    “Never?”
    “Well, there was the time I whacked my head on the pump handle of our well. Doc Cafferty shaved part of my scalp so he could put in stitches.”
    She poured on some sweet-smelling stuff and started to massage it in. “Who’s he? Your pediatrician?”
    “No, the vet.”
    The massaging hands froze. “Do me a favor,” she said finally. “What you just told me—never repeat that to anyone. Especially if they have Child Services on their name tag.”
    My hair was fine after that, and I never again used anything from Sophie’s beautiful bathroom shelf. But it wasn’t because she said I couldn’t. She even gave me some advice about cream for oily skin. I never touched it, though. I know when I’m playing with fire.
    I think she was in a better mood because her father was in town, and her driving lessons were going well. Mr. Donnelly was a really nice person, although whenever he was around, his ex-wife looked pained and squinty, like she was trying to read something off a sign that was very far away.
    Mr. Donnelly even took the time to