Non-classifiable
Silas' seven grandparents took him on outings over the July long weekend. Two took him camping. Two took him to the dog show. Two took him to the dinosaur museum. And one rode the roller coaster with him at the amusement park.
But sometimes Silas couldn't keep up with his seven grandparents.
"After all, I'm only one small boy," said Silas.
Skateboarding always made me feel in groove, totally chilled and high-wired at the same time. At the skate park, though, I felt none of that. I slapped my board down, kicked for speed and dropped into the middle of the bowl. Way too many people were zigzagging crazy patterns back and forth. It was madness.
I was getting some nasty looks. But I couldn't leave, even though that was what those ugly staring faces said without one word. It was clear I was not liked. Was it the way I looked? Was it my hair? Or was it just me?
It was Mike and me on the fast break, two-on-one against a skins' defenseman. I was closing in on the top of the key, with the defenseman stuck to me like glue, when I saw Mike. He was wide open at the bottom of the key and calling for the ball. One sharp pass to Mike and we'd clinch the win. But then I heard Coach Donovan's voice in my head: Whatcha got, kid? Whatcha got? And I thought: I'll show you what I've got.
"Hi, Laura! Hi, kids!" he says, overfriendly and not waiting for an answer. I don't even want to say his name. I hate him. I totally, absolutely, completely, really, truly hate him.
You've been designated special ed?" Kevin gasped.
"Not yet. They still have some testing to do, but they're letting me work there on a trial basis."
"Wow," Kevin said. "I can't believe that you did it...you fooled them."
"It wasn't hard."
"You're, like, a genius," Ahmad said. He sounded impressed.
"An evil genius," Cody said.
"There's nothing evil about this. Nobody gets hurt. Besides, I don't want any more talk about me being a genius. I'm just Ed... special Ed."
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!
I landed heavily on the rough wood of the dock. Somehow I tripped over the rope in my hand and fell sideways. But I never let go of that rope. I scrambled to my feet and eased the boat against the dock. Dad stepped off to tie the stern rope while I tied the bow. I waited for him to say, "Nice work," or "Well done," or maybe, "Sorry I yelled at you," but he didn't even look my way. He patted the pockets of his shorts. "Anyone seen my wallet?" he asked.
Amy appeared from nowhere. "I'll get it, Dad," she said and disappeared into the cabin.
I stared after her. Dad? Since when was he her dad? This kid wanted everything that was mine.
