Ana knelt down next to me. “Charity, are you okay?”
A KETTLE EXPLOSION was approaching fast.
Ana grabbed my hand and helped me up for a quick getaway.
Coach announced, “Please welcome our special princess . . . Jazmine Cooper!”
My feet stopped. I turned around.
Jaz looked like she was going to barf. Her face went white. Her small body shrank down into her wheelchair.
I would not wish this sort of honor on anyone. It was a pity prize.
Jaz sat frozen as the applause died down.
Coach George brushed his nose with his hand. “Uh . . . will Jazmine Cooper please join the members of the court up front?” He waved his hand for her to come.
Students applauded again . . . less loudly.
Jaz moved her hand to control her wheelchair. Instead of rolling forward, she rolled herself backward a little.
A few people laughed.
Skyler scrunched her nose, confused. “Go, Jazmine, go! You won. Coach called your name.”
I wished Jazmine could fly like a bluebird into Skyler’s field of poppies, where she did not have to be paraded like a strange specimen. Was this Jergen’s idea of being nice? Or was he getting back at her for complaining about the Princess Court?
Celia knelt beside Jaz. They whispered to each other. Jaz shook her head.
My eyes were glued to the scene. I could not stop myself from gawking along with all the other gawkers. Then I realized something—my negative attitude stopped me from seeing it before.
Jaz had only one choice—dare to be included.
I jumped and clapped to get her attention. Jaz turned to me with a look of terror. I nodded at her.
I believe in you, Jaz.
She nodded back. Then with the look of a soldier going into battle, Jaz faced Coach. She inched her chair forward to join the other princesses. Then she picked up speed. In the middle of the gymnasium, she stopped to twirl her chair and wave like a queen. The gymnasium burst into applause. She put her hand up to her ear imitating what Darcy did. Kids screamed louder.
Darcy folded her arms, looking annoyed as Jaz made a tour around the circumference of the entire gym. The crowd roared and chanted her name—“JAZ-MINE! JAZ-MINE! JAZ-MINE!” Then she aimed her chair straight for the center of the princess lineup and raced forward. Darcy and Lilly leaped to the side to avoid getting run over.
More laughter and applause from the audience.
Coach George announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome this year’s Princess Court!”
The EPIC kids jumped and clapped, seeing Jazmine in the middle of all those cheerleaders. I jumped too. Leave it to Jaz to make poppies out of poop nuggets.
Diagnosis: Delusional
Stuart tapped his pencil on the table and ran a hand through his messy, brown hair. “What experiment should we choose?”
My new science lab partners, Stuart and Rachel, were drama-free so far. Stuart was different than most kids—I mean that in a good way. He loved learning, and he treated me like a real person. A person with a brain.
No more messages from Sassygirl72 on the gossip app. Was I now accepted as a student at Lincoln?
Probability: uncertain.
“I think we should let you choose the project, Charity,” Rachel said. “I mean, you were stuck in those boring classes for so long. Your brain must be bursting with brill ideas.”
With her hazelnut hair woven in a side braid, Rachel was fashionable without being snooty about it.
Neither of them seemed to mind that at that moment I was stacking my puzzle pieces on top of each other and click-clicking my tongue in rhythm with music in my head.
10, 11, 12, 13 . . .
Click. Click-click. Click-click-click.
Rachel twisted the fake diamond bracelet on her wrist. “Something that makes us look super smart but isn’t super hard.”
Stuart nodded. “Okay, so something between exploding a bottle of soda with a mint and curing lung cancer.”
26, 27, 28 . . .
Click. Click-click. Click-click-click.
Rachel snapped her fingers. “Hey, do you think Harding would let us explode soda bottles?”
Stuart smacked his forehead. “What do you think?”
I nudged Ana to help me.
We could genetically engineer a new species of tomato. One that tastes like sour cherry gummy worms.
“Oh yeah,” Rachel said. “That would make me eat my vegetables for sure.”
“Technically, tomatoes are a fruit,” Stuart said.
32, 33, 34, 35 . . .
Click. Click-click. Click-click-click.
Rachel socked him gently in the arm. “You’re totally earning your nerd reputation today, dude.”
Stuart observed me. “Charity, does your autism make you sensitive to smells? We may want to avoid strong-smelling chemicals.”
Rachel jerked her head back. “Stu, that’s so rude. You don’t talk about someone’s . . . you know . . . affliction to their face.”
I typed, with Ana’s help.
Better to talk to my face than talk behind my back.
“Gee, I guess you’re right.” Rachel scanned the room. “Not that I would ever do that, you know.”
My nose should be ok, Stu. Thanks for asking.
Right when I reached out my hand for a fist bump, a sound pierced my eardrums.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
I swept my tower of puzzle pieces to the floor and slapped my ears with both hands.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.
Rachel put a hand to her mouth and gasped. “OMG, is she hitting herself?”
Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.
“What’s wrong, Charity?” Ana pulled a hand away from my ear to type, but the sound penetrated like an electric eel. I pulled my hand away and pounded the black lab bench.
Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.
What’s happening? Another fire alarm?
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
No. All eyes were on me. I was the only one hearing it.
I slipped out of my chair. My knees hit the tile floor.
“Charity, walk with me.” Ana’s voice sounded as if it was under water.
I screamed. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
How could no one else hear it?
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
A million miles away, I heard voices. My lungs screamed harder.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
“Is she breathing?”
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
“Somebody call 911.”
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Firecrackers in my brain.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Then, nothing.
The noise was gone.
Ana’s hands cradled my head. She wiped drool off my cheek with a tissue. I released the death grip on my ears and opened my eyes. Her face came into focus.
“Charity, can you hear me?”
The entire class was standing above Ana. Their expressions
