How to Survive Middle School by Donna Gephart Read Free Book Online Page A

holding me is the police officer.
The police officer is holding me!
    “I’m sorry … i-it’s just …,” I stammer.
    Her grip tightens.
    Elliott struggles against the man holding him, and I can’t believe how much he looks like he wants to kill me.
    The cafeteria falls whisper-quiet as the bald guy who had the megaphone this morning charges over. He nods at the police officer. “I’ll take it from here.”
    When the officer loosens her grip, the bald guy grabs my arm. It hurts.
    Elliott breathes through flaring nostrils, like a bull ready to charge.
    I glance around at kids staring at me and bite my lower lip.
    “Take him to the nurse,” the bald guy says to the man holding Elliott. “Then make sure he gets to my office. I’ll have to call his parents.”
    Parent
, I want to say.
Elliott has one parent
.
    As he’s being led away, Elliott glowers at me, food splattered on his collared shirt and a fat red mark on his cheek. I look down, knowing I ruined Elliott’s first day of school, too.
    Tommy stands nearby, grinning.
    “Let’s go,” the bald man says, tightening his grip on my already sore arm.

It turns out Mr. Carp (aka Bald Guy) is the assistant principal for sixth grade.
    I know this because there is a sign on his desk that reads MR. CARP, SIXTH-GRADE ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL .
    “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr….” He runs his hand over the freckled skin on his scalp.
    “Greenberg.”
    “What do you have to say, Mr. Greenberg?”
    “Uh, I’m really sorry.”
    Mr. Carp nods. “I’ll bet you are, son.” And he picks up the phone.
    Actually, I’m not that sorry. Because I, David Todd Greenberg, biggest fraidy cat ever, was in my first fight. And I think I might have won!
    I’ll never tell Mr. Carp this, but I feel a little proud of myself.
    Until Dad shows up.

Dad skids into Mr. Carp’s office, breathing hard.
    I sink low in my chair, feeling smaller than ever.
    “Mr. Greenberg?” Mr. Carp says to him.
    Dad shakes Mr. Carp’s hand but looks at me. “What’s this about a fight, David?”
    I can tell by the look in Dad’s eyes that he’s hoping it’s a mistake, that some other David Greenberg was dumb enough to get into a fight the first day of school.
    “It’s j-just—” I stammer.
    “And why are you wearing
that
?” Dad points to my T-shirt. “I thought I made it clear—”
    “Mr. Greenberg?” Mr. Carp points to the chair next to mine.
    Dad sits and runs his hand through his hair.
    “I’ve looked into David’s file,” Mr. Carp says. “It’s obvious he’s a good kid. A really good kid.”
    Dad’s face softens a little.
    “Sometimes, starting middle school can be rough.”
    “You can say that again,” I mutter.
    They both glare at me, and my cheeks get warm.
    Mr. Carp continues. “But David made a mistake.”
    “A big mistake!” Dad says, looking directly into my eyes.
    I sink lower in my chair.
    Mr. Carp puts both palms on his desk. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Mr. Greenberg, you’re going to take David home. We’ll call it a one-day suspension.”
    The word “suspension” kicks my heart into overdrive.
    “Okay,” Dad says, the vein on the side of his head pulsing.
    “And he’s going to come to school tomorrow wearing a collared shirt.”
    “Of course,” Dad says, giving me a look.
    “And he’s going to stay out of trouble all year.” Mr. Carp looks at me. “Isn’t that right, David?”
    “That’s right,” I say.
    Mr. Carp offers me his hand, and I shake it even though my palm is sweaty. Then he shakes Dad’s hand and picks up the phone. “Send the other boy in now.”
    As Dad and I walk out of Mr. Carp’s office, Elliott walks in.
    His shirt is soaked and covered with food stains.
    I know that’s probably the only new shirt Elliott got this year. His mom rarely has money for extras like school clothes. And whatever he gets has to last all year, even if he outgrows it. Even if his former best friend ruins it with a tray full