I shake my head. “He threw it into his own face.”
“Why would he throw it into his own face?”
“To make you think I threw it into his face.”
Principal Gordon turns to Blake. “Mr. Montgomery, is that true?”
“No, sir.”
Principal Gordon turns back to me. “He says he didn’t do it.”
“He’s lying.”
“Calling somebody a liar is a strong accusation, Mr. Conklin. You have to understand that when I’m reviewing two very different accounts of what happened, I’m more inclined to believe the one where a student didn’t throw rat guts in his own face.”
“I understand,” I say. “But that’s what happened.”
“Why would he do that? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that to myself. Mr. Montgomery, did you enjoy what happened?”
“No, sir,” says Blake. “The experience will haunt me.”
“I have to go with the story that sounds the most credible. I’ve had some strange, strange kids in my office over the years. I once had a kid who ate an entire tub of paste. Obviously, this was when I was an elementary school principal; students tend to grow out of the paste-eating phase by the time they’re teenagers. But he ate an entire tub. I don’t mean a small tub either. We had to call an ambulance. You’d think there’d be a point when he’d say to himself, ‘Okay, I’ve eaten enough paste for one sitting.’ But no. He gorged himself. And it was not easy for the doctors to get all that paste out of him. And that kid still doesn’t compare to somebody smearing a dissected rat in his own face.”
“It wasn’t smeared,” I say. “It was thrown.”
“By you?”
“No.”
“By who then?”
“Blake! By Blake!”
“Are you sure you’re not protecting another student?”
“Principal Gordon, I know it sounds deranged, but I’m telling the truth.”
“You two are cousins, right?”
“Yes.”
“That explains it,” the principal says, looking satisfied.
“How does that explain anything?” I ask.
“Cousins are known for their hijinks. This one got out of hand.” Principal Gordon clears his throat. “Mr. Montgomery, this was a terrible way for you to be welcomed to our school, and I regret that your educational experience has been clouded by the event. Since there were no witnesses and there’s a difference in opinion about what actually happened, I’m not going to punish anybody, but Mr. Conklin, I’m going to ask you to apologize.”
“He doesn’t have to apologize,” says Blake. “He may have thrown them on accident.”
“He shouldn’t have been holding rat parts in the first place. I know proper dissection protocol. Mr. Gy would never have you mucking around in there.”
“My hands are clean,” I protest.
“Enough,” says Principal Gordon. “We’re done with the debate. Apologize to your cousin, and I’ll send you on your way.”
“I’m sorry, Rodney,” says Blake.
“Not you.”
“Oh, my mistake. I have guilt issues, so I apologize a lot even when it’s supposed to be somebody apologizing to me.”
“Mr. Conklin?”
I consider refusing to back down, but what will that get me? They’ll call Mom. I might get suspended, and this whole situation will turn into even more of a mess than it already is. Even I’m having trouble believing what Blake did, so how am I going to convince anybody else?
I look at Blake. “I’m sorry for what happened,” I say. I figure that counts as a real apology, but is vague enough that I’m not admitting guilt.
“Do you accept your cousin’s apology, Mr. Montgomery?”
“Yes, of course I do. We’re family.”
“Good. There’s clearly some tension between you two, and you need to work it out before this escalates. I don’t expect to see either of you in my office again. You’re dismissed.”
• • •
“How’d it go?” asks Audrey, walking up to my locker.
“He let us off with a warning.” I spin the dial again. I’m so stressed out right now that I can’t get my combination right.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you do it?”
I stare at her. “What?”
“Why’d you do that? You knew you’d get in trouble. Why are you putting your future at risk?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“It doesn’t seem like something anybody would do to themselves. I can’t imagine wanting to get somebody in trouble so much that I’d splat a rat into my face.”
“Well, you’re not Blake. C’mon, Audrey, you can’t really believe that I did it. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“You were pretty mad at him.”
“So?”
“So, maybe you lost your temper…”
“No! He set me up! He knew nobody would believe that he’d do something so gross, and he was right! Even my own girlfriend doesn’t believe me!”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you.”
“You just did.”
Audrey furrows her brow in concentration as if giving careful consideration to what she’s about to say. This can’t be good.
“All I’m saying is that you’ve been frustrated with him since he got here and I want you to think before you act. That’s all.”
“I can’t believe you’re on Team Blake!”
“I’m not on Team Blake,” Audrey insists. “I don’t even like him all that much. I just think that your resentment is coming out in unhealthy ways.”
“You know what? Fine.” I still can’t get my locker open. I yank on the lock, hard, hoping that the adrenaline flowing through my body is so intense that I can tear off the lock and impress Audrey with my Hulk strength. But the adrenaline lets me down, and I may have pulled a muscle in my arm.
“What would Blake hope to accomplish?” Audrey asks.
“This! What’s happening right now is what he hopes to accomplish!”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. Jealousy? Thirst for power? Attention? I don’t want to understand Blake’s mind. It’s dark and scary. Are you breaking up with me?”
“No! I’m just asking you to be nice to him. It was hard enough to get my mom to let me date a punk rocker. She won’t let me date a delinquent.”
“All right,” I say. “I promise that I will never again do the thing I didn’t do.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you need help with your locker?”
“No. I’ll get it eventually.”
Audrey pats me on the arm, which is as close as she’ll ever get to a public
