Free The Twinning Project by Robert Lipsyte Page B

while.”
    â€œHow can you do that?”
    â€œThe pills I’m taking.”
    â€œWhat pills?”
    â€œI had to take these pills to change my attitude.” He hated to lie, but he was surprised at how easy it was. “And they have these side effects. I can’t play the violin. And I don’t remember things.”
    â€œOh, Tom, that’s terrible.” She squeezed his arm. “I’ll help you all I can.”
    â€œLook who’s here, all dressed up.” A huge kid with a splash of pimples on his forehead made a big deal of looking Eddie up and down but without getting too close. “You running for class president?” He had a snorty laugh, through his nose.
    A bully,
thought Eddie,
but he seems scared of me. Of Tom.
He dimly remembered Tom telling him about some guy he had to stop. Bratzky?
    â€œFall back, pizza face,” growled Alessa.
    Eddie said, “Never make fun of how a person looks, Alessa. He can’t help it.”
    That got the kid really angry. He raised his fists and Eddie got ready to duck, but a teacher suddenly appeared. “Better hurry up—bell’s going to ring.” She checked Eddie up and down. “You look like you had a makeover, Tom.”
    It took him a moment to figure out what she meant. Like he had been made over—gussied up, as Grandpa would say. The teacher seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so Eddie said the first thing that popped into his head. “I’m running for class president.”

THIRTY-TWO
    NEARMONT, N.J.
    2011
    Â 
    T OM’S school was different from his in ways that made Eddie blink. He couldn’t believe the way teachers dressed here on EarthOne. They dressed worse than
kids
dressed on EarthTwo! In his school, teachers wore suits and ties or dresses. Here the men teachers wore polo shirts and dungarees, and so did some of the women. The kids were all in T-shirts and dungarees, and some of the dungarees were pretty weird, with rips and colored stitches and even glass beads. And they were tight, not like the baggy dungarees on EarthTwo. Some kids had rings in their noses and lips and eyebrows. That made Eddie wince.
    Right under the flag in the front of the classroom, where the picture of the president usually goes, was a photo of a Negro man. Who could that be?
    Kids weren’t as respectful here, but the teachers didn’t seem to mind. Everybody was jokier. Some kids and teachers greeted each other by slapping palms or bumping fists. It was weird. Nobody slapped Eddie’s palm or bumped his fist, which was just as well, since he wasn’t sure how to do it. They steered clear of him, didn’t look him in the eye. It seemed as if most kids and teachers didn’t like him. Or were afraid of him. Eddie felt sorry for Tom.
    And for myself,
Eddie thought.
I’m a friendly guy, and hanging out with other kids is the best part of school. That’s why teams are so great. This is really lonely.
    Alessa was in all his classes, so he just followed her from room to room, and she pointed him to Tom’s seat. The teachers didn’t call on him. A good thing, he thought. Math was hard. Forget French. In his school only the eggheads took French. Eddie was taking Spanish.
    At lunch, Alessa said, “I loooved the way you put Britzky down. ‘Never make fun of how a person looks.’”
    Britzky, the kid she had called pizza face, was glaring at them from across the cafeteria.
    â€œI meant it,” Eddie said.
    â€œSure you did.”
    The cafeteria was a pretty neat place. There was a long serving counter with all kinds of hot meals, cheeseburgers, food with Spanish names, salads, different sizes and shapes of spaghetti, a dozen different sodas. Each thing had its own little sign, with its name and the number of calories in it. Eddie knew what calories were, but he had never worried about them. He needed to eat a lot to keep his weight up, especially during