Free Fish in a Tree by Lynda Mullaly Hunt Page B

within my nature to hit someone. I will not meet violence with violence. I won’t stoop to their level.”
    “Stoop to their level?” I ask.
    “If I act like them, I am no better,” he says.
    “Well, I say this is like trying to give Jell-O a spine,” Keisha says.
    Albert squints, which makes me wonder if he’s actually mad. “Some of the most lethal creatures on earth are invertebrates.”
    “Don’t throw that science at me,” Keisha says. “All I know is that you need to stick up for yourself. If you just let them do that, it’s like telling them it’s okay.”
    Albert stays quiet.
    Keisha’s voice is no longer soft. “I just don’t get it, Albert.
What
in the
world
would it take for you to fight back?”
    Albert looks upset. I know Keisha is trying to help him, but I think it’s like throwing him an anchor for a life jacket.
    “So, Albert. You’ve always liked science?” I ask, trying to get another conversation going. But Keisha gasps and looks at the ceiling—frustrated with Albert.
    “Yes,” Albert says. “But, Ally, I would like to ask
you
a question.”
    “Sure. Go ahead.”
    “Shay is not kind to many people. But I have observed that she is the most unkind to you and I don’t understand it. Do you know why?”
    “Yeah,” Keisha says. “She really does seem to have it in for you.”
    “Yeah, well . . .”
    “Oh, is there a story?” Keisha says. “I just love a good story.”
    “There’s no story. I won the art award last year. She was mad about that.”
    “Oh no. There’s more of a story, all right. Now, spill it.”
    “Let’s just say she holds grudges.”
    “Spill it. Use the word
grudges
and there has got to be a really
good
story!”
    “Well . . . on my second day here last year, I’d bought a bag of cheese crackers at lunch. I was assigned to sit next to her, which she wasn’t so happy about. I was almost done with my sandwich when she grabbed the bag of crackers from the table and ripped them open and ate them.”
    “Are you kidding? She
did
that?”
    I nod. I really don’t want to finish this story.
    “She is
un
be
lie
vable,” Keisha says, shaking her head.
    “Anyway, I kind of had this habit of doing things without thinking. Well . . .” I pause. “I used to do it even more than I do now. So, when she took a piece of cake out of her lunch box, I reached over, sunk my fingernails through the frosting, grabbed a hunk, and stuffed it in my mouth.”
    Keisha hangs over the table laughing while Albert looks like I stuck him with a pin. “You
did
that?” he asks, wide-eyed.
    “And then . . .” Uh, I really don’t want to tell them this. “While I licked the frosting off of my fingers, I asked her, ‘So how do you like
that
?!’”
    I cringe when I think of Shay’s face. Total surprise followed by looking at me like I was a disease on two feet. And somehow, deep down inside, I knew I’d pay for that forever.
    But Keisha is still laughing. “That is the
best.
More people ought to put that girl in her place. She walks all over everybody.”
    I kind of think out loud, “She thought I was a freak.”
    “She deserved it. Just taking your food like that? Are you kidding?”
    “Well, the thing was,” I say, and then I stop because I can’t quite push out the rest. “I was mad that she’d eaten my crackers. But, when lunch was over, I reached into my jacket pocket and found mine.”
    Keisha laughs loud and long while Albert raises his eyebrows. “Wait,” Albert says, “she didn’t actually eat yours?”
    I shake my head.
    “So she thinks you grabbed a hunk of her cake for no reason?” Keisha asks.
    “Uh, yeah. Kind of. Yeah.”
    Keisha’s laughter gets even louder just as my mother is looking across the restaurant, giving me “the look.” Keisha leans against me and says, “Okay. I admit it. That is the
best
story I’ve heard. In. My. Whole. Long. Life. Ally Nickerson, if I didn’t love you already for that flower thing you