Free Invisible Inkling by Emily Jenkins Page B

himself with cheesy goodness while Gillicut is rampaging on me! I kick and flail.
    â€œDo you want me to teach you a lesson?” Gillicut asks.
    â€œWhat a stupid question,” I squeak. “Like you could teach me anything.”
    â€œI told you I’d make you pay.”
    I don’t answer, twisting my body to try to get out from under.
    Gillicut’s fingers pinch my neck and twist, hard—
    Oh.
    Ms. Cherry is standing over us.
    Gillicut drops his hand.
    â€œBoys!” says Ms. Cherry, sharply. “Are you two fighting ?”
    â€œYes!” cries Chin. “They are!”
    â€œNo, we’re not!” Gillicut stands up, releasing me. “It was all a big accident. A misunderstanding. I’m so sorry I fell over on you, Hank!”
    He eyes Ms. Cherry but talks to me. I am lying on the floor in shock, cranberry juice and yogurt in my hair, sore in several places.
    â€œLet me help you get some napkins,” says Gillicut, fake and hearty. “You have yogurt on your hair, and I think I have pizza on my face. Ha ha! I have pizza on my face, don’t I?” He laughs. Actually laughs, while smiling at Ms. Cherry.
    I am staring at Gillicut’s thick calves beneath his shorts. His bony ankles going into sneakers without socks.
    His ankles.
    Horrible, mean, bully ankles.
    I want to bite him.
    I really do.
    Want to lunge my head forward and bite Gillicut’s ankle as hard as I can, waggling my head around to make it hurt more, the way Inkling told me.
    But just like the other day in the park— I want to do it, but my teeth are too scared.
    â€œAhhhhhh!” Gillicut goes down, anyway, hitting the floor with a thud and flailing his legs around, kicking in pain.
    Inkling!
    He’s not too scared to bite. I can see his teeth marks in Gillicut’s ankle—
    â€œAhhhhhh!” He’s throwing his legs around to get Inkling off him.

    I start to sit up but, ow! Gillicut kicks me in the head and I go down again. Gillicut and Inkling and I are all tangled up now. There’s fur in my face and a foot against my shoulder—
    â€œHank! This is deeply inappropriate!”
    Miss Cherry looms.
    Reaches down.
    Grabs.
    Seconds later, I am standing. She has me firmly by the shoulder.
    Gillicut is on the floor.
    I’m dizzy. My head aches where he kicked me.
    I’m not even sure what happened. I have no idea where Inkling is.
    â€œWe don’t bite our friends, Hank!” Ms. Cherry scolds.
    What?
    Before I know it, she’s marched me out of the lunchroom and we’re heading down the hall to the principal’s office while a student “buddy” takes Gillicut to the nurse.
    â€œI didn’t bite anyone,” I say.
    â€œOh? How did Bruno get bitten, then?” Ms. Cherry says sarcastically. “Some invisible creature bit him?”
    I know I can’t explain Inkling to Ms. Cherry. But it doesn’t matter, because she doesn’t wait for an answer.
    â€œI want you to remember our motto,” she goes on. “Strangers are friends you haven’t gotten to know yet.”
    â€œGillicut isn’t a stranger or a friend,” I say. “He’s my enemy. I told you what he does to me.”
    â€œYou don’t have enemies,” Ms. Cherry snaps. “You have friends and future friends. That’s what you have.” Her blouse is stained, and her complicated hairdo is back up but lopsided.
    I don’t reply.
    As I sit in the front office, waiting for the principal, I feel Inkling’s warm body press against my leg. He’s wheezing slightly, as if he’s been running to catch up with me.
    I reach down and pick him up as soon as Ms. Cherry departs to teach class.
    â€œYou fluffed up your fur real well,” Inkling whispers, his mouth near my ear. “I bet that Gillicut was scared stupid.”
    Huh?
    I reach up to feel my hair.
    It’s standing on end because of the