had obviously been a struggle. His goggles were hanging from one of the sprinklers on the ceiling, and a flip-flop was stuck into the ceiling. He must have kicked it off hard (though the ceilings seem pretty cheap). Anyway, the police came and everything, but they never found any sign of him.
The candle wax from the vigils for Jamie had hardly dried in the quad six months later, when a substitute teacherâI think her name was Ms. Berlinâalso disappeared under mysterious circumstances. She was at school late. The report said she was using the schoolâs wi-fi to do other side work. They tracked her on there until about 8:45. The next morning they found her computer open, her baking blog
Whatchya Knead
half-written, and little pieces of her dress on the floor. No sign of the substitute. A Missing Persons report was filed, and her family came into town and were on TV asking if anyone saw her. But no one had.
Just another disappearance in Wollville. The towns-people areâI wouldnât say used to itâbut they donâtstop what theyâre doing over stuff like that anymore.
I donât worry much because of my size. But of course our parents do, so we always have to tell them where weâre going to be and when weâll be home.
I make my way to World History and feel a SHOVE.
I spin around. Iâm quick for my size.
Itâs Tanner.
âWhatâs up, freshman?â
âHey, Tanner.â
I take him in. Here at school itâs more noticeable that he spent the summer working out. Heâs been trying to move up a weight class for wrestling, and it looks like he will. Not a problem I have.
I look around and there are a lot of people staring. I donât know how many kids here knew we were siblings. We only moved here last year, and our parents decided to spare me Middle School with home schooling. But people have seen me around town. In the back of the movie theater (where I have to sit), at the pool (hello tidal wave), and at back to school shopping at the mall, where I bought shoes in the menâs department.
Obvious-alert to parents: donât move when your daughterâs in 8th grade. And an ogress. Duh.
I ignore the stares and decide to needle Tanner. âI met Kelsey. She likes you.â
Tanner cringes.
âOh, no. Did she ask about me?â
âUh ⦠yeah! Thatâs how I know!â
âDonât tell her about me. She stalked me all last year. She talks CONSTANTLY.â
I pretend to care. Iâm not sure why, âWell, she was nice to me, so I like her.â
âGreat,â he turns to go. âIâll look for you at lunch.â
âI donât need â¦,â but I realize how much my voice is booming. And I realize how many people are looking. And I realize that I probably do need someone to sit with.
I head to the cafeteria after Gym and donât see Tanner. I think maybe heâs in line for lunch.
I first notice the giant ogre serving lunch, because of his size. Heâs the first person Iâve ever met since I reached my full height that I had to look up at. And Iâve met NBA players (when my parents took me to âfan daysâ to make me feel better about being 6â1â in 6th grade). The ogre sees me, too. He looks surprised, like he hadnât considered there could be others like him.Probably because he doesnât go online muchâheâs older.
I grab a tray and try to blend in. I glance at the other girls. Everybody is slouching and leaning on the buffet. I could never lean on anything. I learned that in second grade when I broke the school jungle gym.
The other girls click away on their phones. Sure, I could do the same. Only I donât really have anyone but my mom to text. So I spend my time stealing peeks at the cafeteria guy. He seems to have makeup on. But itâs hard to tell since he barely looks up.
âHey,â Tanner sidles up beside me. âCan we
Learning to Kill: Stories