Free True (. . . Sort Of) by Katherine Hannigan

didn’t glance at her.
    Now, as fine as Delly was feeling, that felt bad. Because she was trying to give Ferris Boyd something good, and the girl wasn’t taking it. Again.
    So she said, “Ferris Boyd, how come you just keep standing there doing nothing?”
    The girl didn’t move.
    The good feeling was fading fast. And now Delly was remembering how they could have been winners, but for real, if Ferris Boyd had done something besides slouch there.
    â€œHey,” she hollered, “I’m talking to you. How come you didn’t take the ball and shoot it? Do you want to be a loser?”
    Delly didn’t do it to be mean; she did it because she forgot. While she shouted, “Because I know you can do it. I saw you play,” she grabbed the girl’s arm.
    Ferris Boyd’s head jerked up, and her eyes were wild. Her arms flailed around her head.
    â€œShikes.” Delly pulled her hand away.
    It was too late. Ferris Boyd was running, like wild dogs were after her, down the hall and out the back door.
    â€œDouble shikes.” Delly followed her. But the girl was already sprinting across the playground.
    â€œFerris Boyd!” Delly cried, and headed out the door.
    Till Ms. Niederbaum snagged her. “Where are you going?”
    â€œIt’s Ferris Boyd,” she rasped. “She . . . she’s gone!”
    â€œWhere?”
    Delly pointed.
    â€œWhy are you here and not in your room?”
    â€œI . . . I was with Ms. Gerwitz,” Delly answered, which was sort of the truth.
    â€œGo to your class.” Ms. Niederbaum directed her.
    So she did.
    Delly spent the afternoon worrying that they wouldn’t find Ferris Boyd, and worrying that they would.
    â€œShe might be hurt.” She fretted. “But if they find her, she’ll tell. I’ll be out of here before Ms. McDougal can say ‘You’re expelled.’”
    Just before three o’clock Ms. Niederbaum came to the classroom. She and Lionel Terwilliger whispered.
    Delly prepared for her banishment to Badkidville, as Lionel Terwilliger walked toward her.
    At her desk he leaned over. “Ms. Boyd has been located,” he said softly. “She is at her home and will return tomorrow.” Then he put his hand on her shoulder. “Delaware, your awareness and concern are valued.” He was thanking her.
    Delly wanted to shout, “Happy Hallelujah!” because Ferris Boyd was safe and she wasn’t in trouble. Yet. But the way Lionel Terwilliger said it, like she was decent, made her hang her head.
    â€œHunh,” she mumbled, and he left her.

Chapter 28
    A t three o’clock, Delly raced across the playground, over the bridge, and out the River Road. At the end of the drive she checked: there was no car, no cat. And no basketball-playing girl. She ran to the front door of the old Hennepin place and banged on it. “Hey, Ferris Boyd,” she hollered, “I got to talk to you.”
    Nobody came.
    â€œFerris Boyd, this is a Dellymergency,” she shouted.
    That didn’t do it.
    She stood back and looked at the house. The curtains in the upstairs window fell together.
    â€œI got to know if tomorrow’s my last day at that school,” she muttered to herself.
    Breaking in would probably be trouble. Throwing rocks could go wrong, too.
    There was one more thing Delly could try: tell the truth. “Bawlgrammit,” she grumbled, and sat down facing the house.
    â€œOkay, Ferris Boyd,” she told the window, “here’s the truth. I’m trouble. I’ve been bad for a long time.” That was hard to say; Delly sat with it for a second.
    â€œI’ve been better, though, so they made me captain.” She went on. “I didn’t want to do it. Till I got this idea: you, me, all those kids that got no friends— we could be a team. We could help each other.”
    The curtains pulled back, just a little. Delly’d have to tell more