Free Big Mouth by Deborah Halverson

them. Quixote was the most famous and daring and powerful of all starship captains ever. Everything that guy did screamed Destiny. I bet
he
never got stuck in the john with the runs.
    “Now, Shermie,” Lucy said, “I know capacity training isn’t as exciting as speed-eating, but the final numbers are more dramatic, so you’ll like that. Stomach capacity and stamina are where it’s at in the twelve-minute competitions. Those heats aren’t for the two-minute sprinters.”
    “Whatever you say.” The Nathan’s Famous hot dog–eating contest was a twelve-minute HDB eat-off, so this strategy of working on capacity rather than sprint speed sounded smart to me. Maybe eating fast was why the dogs didn’t stay down. Even if I hadn’t agreed with Lucy, I was too tired to argue anyway.
    The plastic pumpkin whizzed at my face, but a Jedi leaned over our seat from behind and snagged it just before it popped me in the mouth.
Boy, he’s lucky his reflexes are quick. If that pumpkin had hit me, I couldn’t be responsible for my actions right now.
    “I put together some capacity growth graphs—oh, before I forget!” She interrupted herself and reached into her backpack, digging out a plastic shopping bag. “Here.”
    I opened the bag. It was filled with packs of gum. “What’s that for?”
    “For you to chew. It will build up your jaw strength.”
    “I don’t need to work on jaw strength. I eat gummy bears. I could chew a walnut shell into powder with this jaw.”
    The bus stuttered to a stop and three kids got on. One was dressed as a California raisin, another as Santa, and the third as a penguin.
    “You sure?” She leaned in to inspect my jaw.
    I turned away. “Yes, I’m sure. Trust me.”
    “If you say so.” She took back the bag reluctantly and drew a giant
X
through the graph. As she turned to the next page in the binder, I let my head sag back against the seat. “I don’t know if you’ll like this next graph. Shermie? Shermie!”
    I snapped fully awake.
    “Sorry.” I shook my head to get the blood moving through my brain. It didn’t help much. “Do we need to do this now, Lucy? I’m really tired.”
    “We need to talk about this new graph sooner or later. I don’t know how you’re going to take it, though….”
    I rested my head on her shoulder. “I’m tired, Lucy. I was up late.”
    “Does your head still hurt?” Her voice was soft in my ear. She’d come by Scoops during her break last night to see why I hadn’t met her in the food court. Gardo stood her up, too. I hadn’t told her
why
my head hurt, though.
    “No. It went away sometime last night. Or maybe this morning. Depends on if you count two a.m. as morning or night.” My eyelids slid closed. I swear, my head was just a big, empty, exhausted melon. And the rest of my body wasn’t much better. My legs were stiff as wood and my arms were heavy as bricks. Getting out of bed this morning was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. “The rest of me feels like a train wreck, though. I had to ride my bike through the park last night.”
    “On that hill?”
    “Yeah. At night.” Her hair brushed my lips. She didn’t smell like chocolate today, she smelled like candy canes. I bet she used peppermint mouthwash.
    “You’re working out?” she asked. “When did you start that?”
    “I wasn’t working out, I was working late. Stupid Grampy.”
    “You rode your bike up
that
hill.” She was taking in that information. I could only imagine the visual she got in her head. “How did it go? Can you do it again?”
    “What?” I sat up straight.
Ow.
“Are you insane? Why would I do it again?”
    “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” The bus shuddered to a stop. A ghoul and a nun got on. Lucy lowered her voice. “See, there’s this theory….”
    She paused and looked around her to make sure no one was listening. Then, slowly, she reached down and turned the page in her binder. There, at the top of a new black