“Are my eyes deceiving me?” Tex embraced Milo at their usual table at the back of the canteen. “Welcome home, Feesh!”
Milo ceremoniously took his seat across from Lucy, who looked as happy as a pig in a puddle. He unpacked his feta and lentil salad, which struck him as underwhelming for such a celebratory occasion. Maybe after school they could stop by that hokey burger joint again. He was craving another mint milkshake. And those sweet potato fries…
Lucy ripped open a packet of hot sauce and squeezed it over her plateful of tacos. “Want one?” she offered her tray to Milo.
“Thanks.” He eagerly nabbed a taco. The hot sauce burned his tongue, but the taco was one of the best things he’d ever tasted. Am I going nuts or is this wackadoodle mountain town growing on me?
“Sladan!” called a strident voice from across the room.
Lucy jumped in her seat. “What did I do?”
A slender girl with short dark hair and a yellow blazer strode across the cafeteria.
“You had a deadline this morning, did you not?” Tex whispered. He cradled his head in his hands.
The girl stopped in front of their table, her arms crossed. Milo noticed that she had a nose ring. He’d never seen one in person before.
“Where’s my article?” the girl demanded.
“Oh, snap, the deadline,” said Lucy.
“Milo Fisher, have you met Gertie Lee?” Tex introduced them. “She is the editor of the SPEAMS Sentinel.”
Milo held out his hand, which Gertie shook harder than necessary.
Without letting go she turned to Lucy. “Dining with the enemy, I see?”
“Enemy?” Milo pulled his hand free.
“No offence,” said Gertie, “but your father’s company is nothing but a force of destruction and despair. The world needs to retain its temperate rain forests, thank you very much.”
Tex shrugged apologetically at Milo, who was at a loss for words.
“And speaking of Nu Co. –” Gertie turned to Lucy – “what did your investigation uncover?”
“You’re writing about my dad’s company?” asked Milo.
“It’s my dad’s company, too,” Lucy responded, avoiding eye contact.
Milo felt the sting of annoyance. Why was every aspect of his life now tainted by his father’s business affairs? This was not an issue most thirteen-year-olds had to navigate.
“We go to print at the end of the week,” said Gertie. “I’ve made space for you on the front page, Sladan. You’ve got two days to turn in your piece, and it had better be good, and I mean polished like a diamond tiara, or your journalistic credibility is dust.”
Milo had the impression that Ms Lee was a girl with a frighteningly bright future ahead of her.
“Understood.” Lucy sheepishly saluted.
“Gertie,” said Tex. He reclined, one arm dangling suavely over the back of his chair. “Did you see my latest satire on the school’s paltry response to the climate crisis?”
“I did, indeed,” said Gertie. “Really good stuff, Arkhipov. You’re a go-getter. I like it. I wish some of that gusto would rub off on your slacker friend, here.”
Lucy leaned back peevishly.
Tex rose and offered his arm to Gertie. “May I explain the symbolism of the frog in boiling water as I escort you to the boiler room?”
She linked her elbow with his. “You know,” she said as they sauntered off, “you’ve got an intriguingly dark sense of humour.”
“As they say in Russia, it is better to laugh than to cry, since both are useless anyway.”
“That’s profound, yo.”
Tex winked at Lucy as he and Gertie exited the cafeteria, deep in conversation.
Milo blinked. “And I thought I’d seen everything.”
“I think he’s wearing a freshly ironed pair of jeans today,” said Lucy, disturbed.
“So you’re writing an expose on Nu Co.?” Milo turned to face her. “Since when?”
“Since you weren’t talking to me,” she said. “And anyway, something weird is going on over there. Everyone’s saying so.”
“Seems like there’s something weird going on everywhere,” muttered Milo.
“Welcome to Sladanville, my friend.”
Milo laughed. “Speaking of strange places,” he said, lowering his voice, “how many shapeshifters like Thingus do you think there are in Sticky Pines?”
Lucy choked on her food and started coughing.
“If you think about it,” Milo continued, “they could be anywhere, right? They could be anyTHING.”
Nodding, Lucy took a sip of water.
Milo gasped as something occurred to him. “What if there are Thinguses that could actually turn into people?”
Lucy coughed so hard she spat water all over the table.
“Are you okay?” Milo hopped up and patted her on the back.
Nanoseconds later, his chair went flying as someone deliberately rammed into it. His backpack was knocked to the floor, its contents spilling out across the linoleum.
“Outta my way, rich boy,” said Lars, the hulking seventh-grade bully.
Milo snapped round to face him. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you bug-brained barbarian?” It was by far the rudest thing he had ever said to anyone. For a split second he felt pretty good. Then Lars grabbed him by the collar and pulled him nose to nose. The warmth drained from Milo’s face. Uh-oh.
“You telling me what to do, fish guts?” snarled Lars. His breath smelled like Cheetos and unbridled rage. “Like your old man does to my ma, keeping her at that stupid factory all day and night, cleaning up his stinking messes?”
The cafeteria fell silent as everyone turned to stare.
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Milo.
Lars pushed him back and Milo stumbled over his social studies book.
“Back off, Lars,” Lucy sputtered, still coughing.
“Stay out of it, grape-nut,” Lars spat. “What are you gonna do, tell your mommy?”
Lucy shot daggers at Lars as he sidled up to Milo, towering menacingly overhead.
“You and your old man think you can boss everyone around, don’t you?”
“I. Uh. No?” said Milo. Nice going, Fish. That’ll teach him.
Lars yanked Milo off the ground, pulling his collared shirt out of the waistband of his khakis. Toes dangling, Milo realised with a jolt that he’d never been in a physical fight before and he had no idea
