Bluefish by Pat Schmatz Read Free Book Online Page A

You're not being very polite."
    Travis turned and stared at Chilson, the blond guy.
    Chilson showed his teeth in a fake smile.
    "What's the matter, too scared to talk?" asked the one with long dark hair.
    Travis shook his head and waited, giving them a chance to start it. Chilson flicked a butt in his direction and then turned away. Travis's shoulders went down. He let out a slow breath. Not today. Maybe some other day.
    At dinner, Grandpa passed him some bright-orange mac and cheese out of a box, with frozen peas tossed in, and said, "I've been thinking. You should go out for a sport or get a job."
    "Why?" Travis poked his fork in and came up witha drippy straw stack.
    "You need something to do."
    "I had plenty to do at the old place."
    "Good cold Christ, boy, how long you going to keep chewing that song? Can we just try and live in the present here? Maybe for one day?"

    Travis didn't answer. He scooped up more orange watery macaroni. Grandpa leaned across the table and poked Travis's shoulder with a sharp finger.
    "You answer when I talk to you, boy."
    Travis glared at him.
    "Trying to kill me with that look? Trav, I'm trying here, in case you didn't notice. You think you could climb on board even for a minute?"
    Travis scraped his chair back and took his plate to the sink. When he turned around, Grandpa had gotten to his feet.
    "You wanna take a poke at me?" Grandpa stepped closer. He tapped his white-stubbly, saggy- skinned jaw.
    "Think that might make you feel better?"
    The smell of tobacco and aftershave rolled off him.
    Travis clamped his fists in his pockets and stepped sideways, against the counter.
    "Just leave me alone."
    "No." Grandpa said it soft as he reached out and tapped Travis on the chest with his bony finger. "I won't."
    on FRIDAY
    I'm not going to school today. Travis is too good to do my brilliant skit idea, fine. Let him figure it out for himself. I am spending my day here in your trailer.
    The madre was actually up this morning, which made it more fun to act like I was rushing off to school. She announced that she's done drinking forever, which, you know, means she's going to act like she gives a crap for a day or two. She said she's going shopping to buy some chicken and potatoes and make a big dinner. I said that's great, Ma.
    I'll be hungry after my long day of learning.
    Bad part: she called Butt face Jimmy to ask him over for dinner. Good part: he didn't answer.

CHAPTER TEN
    The bell rang for social studies. The classroom door closed. The seat behind Travis was empty. No whispers, no pencil jab. When they broke off to work on their projects, Travis doodled in the margins of notebook paper.
    "Is your outline ready to go, Travis?" Ms. Gordon knelt next to his desk.
    He shook his head.
    "Did you and Velveeta decide what you're doing?"
    "We're not partners."
    "So - you're going to work individually?" she asked, and Travis nodded. "You'll still need to turn in an outline by the end of class today."
    The bell rang, and Travis was the first one out the door.
    Fourth period, Travis stared at the line drawings in the fox book as the minutes ticked by.
    "Travis Roberts," McQueen called. Travis's head jerked up like it was on a string. "Come into my office, please. Bring your book. I'd like to cut into your lunch hour for a minute or two."
    Travis took a deep breath. First the project, now this.

    Skate- by time was over.
    "Have a good weekend, people," McQueen said as the bell rang. "I know you'll all spend it reading."
    He turned to Travis.
    "How's the book going?"
    "Fine."
    "You didn't turn in the paragraph on literature last week. And you turned in a blank paper for the vocabulary quiz on Wednesday."
    Travis slid into his teacher- talk slouch. He stopped hearing the words.
    McQueen's voice was a low and distant rumble, like a summer storm that passed north, never coming close.
    BAM!
    The crash lifted Travis all the way out of his chair.
    "Sorry," McQueen said, grinning. "But not really. I wanted your