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pretty good at making it.
    Zachariah bit his lip. He was bigger. But if he punched the kid he’d get sent to the principal. And then he’d get home and be in real trouble. The physical ramifications of skipping two classes had been with him all day when he turned his head too quickly or tried to walk faster than he should have. What would his dad do to him if he got in a fight?
    The kid held up his own carton of lemonade.
    Jim and Rick and Kenny weren’t sitting at their regular table.
    He found them at the far end of the cafeteria, as if they were hiding.
    â€œHey, guys,” he said. “You moved.”
    Silence.
    â€œYou moved.”
    â€œAren’t you the kid who puked all over himself yesterday?”
    â€œVery funny.”
    â€œAnd you pissed yourself. Right?”
    â€œRick, you were there.”
    â€œI saw some guy I don’t know piss himself and puke.”
    â€œThat was me.”
    Jim’s tater tots held a particular fascination; Kenny watched the clock on the wall intensely.
    â€œYou know me.”
    â€œWe don’t know anyone who pisses himself,” Rick said.
    â€œCome on. We—”
    â€œNo one in school wants to hang out with a pisser.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œGood luck finding someplace to sit,” Rick said.
    For a few days afterward, Zachariah tried eating in the cafeteria. No one was happy to see him arrive at their table. Kids from class or soccer got up and left, or didn’t speak to him, or, once, told him to fuck off.
    He began eating his lunch in the bathroom. At least the year is almost over, he thought. I’ll be going to a new school in September, where everyone will forget this. I’ll have new friends.
    Then, over the summer, he gained weight—so much that his dad called the doctor.
    His father was angry to take time off work, but did not beat him: the doctor would see bruises if he did. Zachariah expected—and received—payback once the appointments passed.
    â€œThis is a lot of weight for a small period of time,” the doctor said. “But it is not unprecedented. It happens sometimes, usually to girls.”
    After answering questions about diet, sleep, and exercise, the doctor said Zachariah’s added weight was a phase he would grow out of. Try to exercise more than you do, he said. It’s summer, so this shouldn’t be a problem. Watch your diet. Don’t overdo it at barbecues.
    Zachariah rode his newly uncomfortable bike what felt like fifty miles a day, all over town, hoping he’d win the Weight Loss Fitness Challenge. He tried not to eat too much. Drank a lot of water. But somehow he gained more weight. And when the school year started, no one had forgotten his accident. His weight gain made him a target for people who hadn’t heard about the soccer field.
    As he sat there in the library, he realized there was research to be done.
    It was strange that his new bulk came in such close proximity to his powers emerging. What if both had been caused by the same thing? Maybe they had started that day, like there was some gland down there that activated when he got kicked in the nuts. The Internet had to have something on psychic powers, right?

10.
    D IDN ’ T WANT TO GET THERE TOO early. Sit around and talk to people he didn’t know. But not too late either. Get a good seat. Nod to people around him. Not talk. Maybe after a big play. But that was it.
    He left at six fifteen for seven. Half hour walk. If he remembered right. Didn’t go down there much. Didn’t like to think about it. Wasn’t good at it. Tried to concentrate. Couldn’t. And this was before. Wished he had done voc, like Artie. Good stuff. Jobs. But Auntie Blake said college prep. Which he hated. But she took him in so she was the boss. He said okay. Tried hard. For a long time. Two years. But never any good. Stopped trying so hard. Did about the same. Cs and Ds turned into Ds and Fs. She