Friendship
I reached down and picked up one of the tomatoes. It was so overripe it was squishy and soft to the touch. My fingers sunk in, almost breaking the skin. I tossed it a few inches up into the air and caught it again. Nice weight. Nice.
Keegan still had his back to me. There was a slight wind—left to right—so I'd have to take that into account. I drew my arm back and threw the tomato. It flew through the air, slightly spiraling, toward him and—splat! It smashed right into the back of his head and exploded into a thousand pieces of pulp!
"Photocopier malfunctions are not newsworthy," Martin said. "Not newsworthy?" Trixi said. "Listen to me, Marty. This week at our school, you had the best stories any newspaper editor could hope for. Just think of the headlines you could have had! Photocopier Goes Wild! This Week Origami! Next Week, Paper Airplanes?"
"That’s ridiculous," Martin said.
"Or how about Toilets Reciting Poetry at Upland Green School! What Will They Do Next? Sing Opera? Tap Dance?" "That's even more ridiculous. In my newspaper, I just report the facts," Martin said.
"Hey," Keely said to her brother, Reg. "This is a good day for a bug walk!"
"What is it with you and bugs?" he asked. "Rocks are so much better."
Keely got a serious look on her face and started to sing,
"Rocks are boring, rocks are dead.
Reg has rocks in his head."
"Rocks don't do anything," she said with a sniff.
"That’s why I like them," Reg said. "They don't fly away, they don't bite and they last a long time."
