Butter by Erin Jade Lange Read Free Book Online Page A

me. The past year as an eighth grader—with jerks like Jeremy gone to the realm of high school—had been blissful. But here he was now, an in-your-face reminder of what was waiting for me when I started high school the next week.
    Jeremy cocked his chin at me. “You got a problem?” I think it was supposed to look tough, but as he was dressed to match Brian with the added bonus of an electric-green hairnet, I just couldn’t bring myself to be afraid. In fact, all of a sudden, I was laughing. It came out like a little snort at first, then a foot stomp, then I was doubled over trying to catch my breath between howls.
    Other customers in the restaurant began to join me. I’ve been told I have a contagious laugh, which can be a problem when you’re a nervous laugher anyway. I had everyonerolling in the pews at my great-aunt’s funeral. My dad was so pissed.
    I’m sure that’s all it was—my contagious laugh—that had the whole restaurant twittering, but Jeremy sure seemed to think it was at his expense. His face turned as red as the beets on my salad, and the sight of his glowing skin under that green hair net was too much. I finally just left my salad on the counter and laughed all the way out the front door, gasping for air.
    I was a little too winded for the walk home, so I called my mom to pick me up and told her I’d meet her in the parking lot behind the Salad Stop. I took a seat on a concrete bumper in front of one of the three tiny parking spots in the walled lot. I’d only been waiting a minute when I heard a car pull into the cramped space.
That was fast!
I looked up—not my mom’s Range Rover, just some Mustang.
    Suddenly, a bunch of doors were opening at once. Both the driver’s and passenger’s doors of the Mustang flew open as the back door of the Salad Stop banged against the stucco wall, shaking paint and plaster loose in a fine stream of dust. The faces came too fast to take in all at once. All I had time to register were four garish Salad Stop uniforms and two kids around Jeremy’s age in regular clothes, and then they were on me.
    They circled my little concrete curb so tight, I couldn’t get up.
    â€œNow who’s going to be sorry?” Jeremy hissed. I noticed he had removed his hair net.
    â€œWhat’s this fat ass doing at a salad bar anyway?” one of the boys from the car asked.
    â€œNot paying, for one thing,” a guy in a uniform snarled. He looked older than all the others—maybe too old for high school even.
    â€œI didn’t take the food,” I said, and felt ashamed to hear my voice shaking.
    â€œWell, we can’t exactly put it back in the bar, can we?”
    â€œI’ll give you money.” I scrambled for my wallet.
    â€œThis ain’t no robbery, Sasquatch!” The uniformed guy sounded offended. “Keep your wallet.”
    â€œThen what do you want?” I asked.
    Jeremy stepped closer, tightening the circle. “We want you to apologize to Brian.”
    â€œHey, leave me out of it.”
    Brian came into focus over Jeremy’s shoulder. He was apart from the offensive circle, checking over his shoulder so often it looked like a twitch.
    â€œDude, he called you a phone-sex operator!”
    â€œI don’t care what he called me. He doesn’t owe me an apology.” Then Brian looked directly at me. “You don’t owe me anything, okay? We’re square.”
    â€œThen apologize to
me
!” Jeremy leaned over me, blocking my view of Brian.
    The indignation rising up inside of me was stronger than the fear. It wasn’t like these guys were thugs. They were just teenagers, barely older than me, and all quite a bit smaller, come to think of it. Pound for pound, we were almost evenly matched—all of them against me. That thought floated some courage to my lips.
    â€œI’m not apologizing to you for shit,” I said. “I didn’t