Something to Hold by Katherine Schlick Noe Read Free Book Online Page A

were making a mess of it," she says. "But you were right."
    ***
    When the last bell rings and all the kids hurry outside, I walk up to Mr. Nute's desk. He sits with his head down, grading papers.
    "I'm sorry."
    "Uh-huh," he says. He doesn't look up, just keeps slashing red pen across the long division problems in front of him. I'm not sure if that means I can go or if I'm supposed to say something else.
    After a moment, Mr. Nute sets down the pen and frowns at me. "You want my advice?" It's not a question. "Stay away from her."
    "Jewel?"
    He nods. "She is going nowhere. None of them are."
    How can he say that about his students?
Mr. Nute sounds like those girls in Sunday school.
    My heart pounds in my throat, but my mouth goes ahead on its own. "If you feel that way," I ask quietly, "why are you here?"
    Mr. Nute shakes his head, his eyes frowning. "It's a job." He turns back to the papers on his desk. "They will drag you down if you let them."
    Mr. Nute picks up the pen again, and I am dismissed.

Good Riddance,
Báshtan
    H OWIE leans his nose into the backstop, his fingers hooked into the thick wire mesh. In the student tide that spreads over the playfield between the dining hall and the school, Howie anchors himself in his own little radioactive zone and watches every pitch.
    My brother is the only kid who'll stand beside him. Joe doesn't even seem to notice the gap between them and everybody else. He and Howie chat away, watching the game. I'm hoping they don't yell something stupid when I have to bat.
    It's the first time I've tried to play. Pinky kept bugging me to get in the game. She says it's the way to make friends in this school. I'm not sure I believe her. I saw what happened to Franklin that first day. But I finally got up the nerve and ran out into left field, even without a glove.
    And now I've worked my way all the way up to the backstop. I'm having fun, and so I make sure to keep away from Raymond, who will bat in front of me. I don't want to give him any reason to pick on me, so I slide a few steps away from Howie and Joe.
    Benson goes up to the plate and wags the bat at his shoulder. "Babe Ruth looks for his six hundredth home run," he chatters at Jewel, who is on the mound. Jewel winds up and pitches. Benson crushes the ball past third.
    "Go!" shouts Howie. Like all the words off his tongue, this comes out kind of thick. The kids standing around the backstop snicker, but Howie doesn't seem to hear them.
    Benson stops on second—a ground-rule double because the ball got caught under the snake slide, way over at the playground. Raymond is up next. While the fielder runs to get the ball, he takes two big cuts with the bat.
    Jewel catches the ball, holds it ready, then throws. Raymond cracks it dead on and is around first base before Pinky, in the outfield, sees it coming her way.
    Pinky does what I would do—she ducks—and the ball bounces over the back fence and onto the highway. A home run.
    When Raymond stomps on home plate with both feet, Howie jumps up and down, rattling the chainlinks of the backstop. Raymond stands still and stares right at him. "What're you lookin' at?" he says. I take a few more steps to the side, moving out of Raymond's line of sight. He shakes his head. "Spaz."
    "C'mon—who's up?" Jewel calls from the mound. It's my turn to bat, but Raymond hasn't moved from home plate.
    "I'll be up," Howie offers, like he didn't hear what Raymond said.
    Something bad is going to happen. I look over to the other side of the field, where a teacher stands by the tetherball pole, playground whistle dangling from her hand. She's too far away. I pick up the bat.
    "I'll be up!" Howie says again.
    Raymond turns his back on him. "You can't play," he says. "'Cause you're a moron."
    By the way Howie's face dissolves, I know he heard this time. He pushes himself away from the backstop and lopes across the field. Joe runs after him. Howie is just a dot by the time he gets to the swings and