Free Reluctantly Alice by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

you ever see the way lions and tigers sort of walk around their food before they tear into it? The purring noise they make? That’s what Denise was doing right then—the way her eyes started to smile, her lips started tostretch. Soft laughter began at the back of her throat and worked its way out.
    â€œNo good,” she said. “We want to hear you sing it, Widdle Alwice. When you go to basketball games, you have to be able to sing. How are you going to help the team along if you’re just standing there saying the words?”
    â€œSing! Sing! Sing! Sing!” the other three girls began to chant, and then some of the other kids joined in. “Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!”
    â€œI can’t,” I said again.
    The kids crowded in closer. It was probably the nearest Denise had ever come in her life to being onstage, the most attention she had ever got. “You can’t sing ?” she asked in mock horror. “What’s the matter? Is your singer broken? Every American girl can sing.” She nudged me a little harder. “ Try it.”
    I shook my head and stared at the ground. I felt like I was going to throw up, and imagined puking all over Denise’s Nikes. I imagined her knocking the daylights out of me.
    â€œMaybe she needs to spray her throat first with a little toilet water,” the girl with the zits said.
    â€œYeah, a little dunk in the toilet might help,” the tall girl suggested.
    â€œI can’t sing,” I told them again. “I never could.”
    â€œWell, we want to hear what it sounds like, anyway,” said Denise. She was really enjoying herself now and was talking louder so everyone could hear. “Everyone listen, now. Widdle Alwice is going to try.”
    They crowded in closer still. They were all grinning.
    â€œLast chance,” said Denise. “Do or dunk. Which will it be?” She turned to the short girl beside her. “You know that toilet up on second? The one that doesn’t flush? Widdle Alwice is going to smell really nice after we dunk her in that one.”
    I knew exactly which toilet they were talking about. It always stunk, and it was filled almost to the top with toilet paper and crud.
    Why couldn’t the principal look out of his window right now and see what was going on? Why couldn’t Patrick get out of band practice early and come rescue me? Why couldn’t real life be like fairy stories once in a while, where there’s always a prince when you need him?
    â€œSing!” Denise ordered, starting to sound angry, and then, somewhere behind me, I heard my name.
    â€œHey, Al.”
    I turned. It was Lester. I couldn’t believe it.
    Everyone else turned too. Lester was strolling acrossthe driveway, and I could see his car parked out by the curb.
    â€œHey, Al!” he said again. “How you doin’?” He was making like we weren’t related, I knew. Just a friend who had dropped by.
    I didn’t know what to say. But Lester took over. “I was driving by, saw you out here, and thought I’d stop,” he said, putting one arm around my shoulder and walking me out of the circle. “What’s up? What’s been happening lately?”
    Denise and her friends stared after us. I could see Denise’s eyes as I walked away, small and squinty with that “I’ll get you” look. The other kids began to wander off and finally, when Les and I got around to a tree and were by ourselves, I tried hard not to bawl.
    â€œThey almost had me, Lester,” I said shakily.
    â€œI sort of figured that,” he said, and put his hands in his pockets. “How long before lunch period is over?”
    I looked at my watch. “Four or five minutes.”
    â€œI’ll hang around,” he said. “It’ll only make me a few minutes late to class.” He looked over to where Denise and her gang were still standing. “The hefty one. That’s