Free The Mealworm Diaries by Anna Kerz

cross-overs. She learned those really fast. And at the end, we all took turns running and jumping through the long ropes. Some of the teachers even joined in. The audience loved it. They cheered.” He chuckled. “City kids don’t know much about skipping, so they’re easy to impress.”
    â€œDid you wear your shorts?” his mother asked.
    â€œYeah. Everybody who skipped wore the new uniform. That was the whole point of the assembly: to show the rest of the school how good it looks.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œDid anybody say anything? Yeah. Mostly they asked dumb questions, so I told them about the staples and the steel plates and the screws until they were really grossed out.” He reached for another cookie and took a bite before he added, “Aaron said my scar looked like a lightning bolt and he wanted to touch it. I told you how weird he is.”
    His mother laughed. “I don’t know if he’s weird, but he sounds as if he’s really curious.”
    â€œYeah. He can’t help it.” Jeremy took another sip of milk and a bite of cookie before he went on. “So many of the kids thought skipping was cool that they asked Mr. Collins to start a skipping club when cross-country is over, and he said yes. And guess what? Even Tufan wants to join, and he used to say that skipping was only for girls.”
    That night Jeremy had a different dream. In this dream, dots of blood, the size of mealworm droppings, bubbled up along his scar line. Aaron appeared, saying, “Can I touch it? Can I touch it?” and his finger came closer and closer until Jeremy shouted, “No! Don’t!”
    â€œYou’re scared,” Aaron said. He sounded sad.
    Jeremy nodded.
    Aaron made a quick motion with his finger, as if he were switching off a light. “Then turn it off.”
    â€œYeah, right.”
    â€œTry it.”
    Jeremy raised his hand to turn off an invisible switch just as a beam of hallway light hit his face and woke him. His mother was a shadow in the doorway.
    â€œSame dream?” she asked.
    â€œNo…No. It was nothing. Sorry.”
    â€œYou okay?”
    â€œFine. Really.”
    She closed the door. He waited. When he heard her go back to her own room, he turned on his bedside lamp, shoved his quilt aside and pulled up his pajama pants to peer at his leg. The scar was there, same as ever, but there was no blood…and his bed was dry .

SEVENTEEN
    Another Saturday. The morning was damp and grey and cold, with a wind that whispered of winter. The park was packed with kids. It vibrated with noise and tension.
    â€œOkay, guys!” A teacher’s voice bellowed through a megaphone. Guys…guys…guys! boomeranged from the trees. The boys on the starting line shifted. “Pay attention… tention…tention…tention !”
    â€œWe’re listening,” Tufan grumbled. “Start already. It’s freezing out here.”
    â€œYa got that right,” Horace chimed in. He was slapping his arms across his chest. Jeremy was doing the same. It didn’t help much. The October wind sliced into the tender skin at the back of his neck and behind his knees.
    The teacher with the megaphone gestured to the goal posts. “There’s your rabbit. Wave your hand, rabbit.”
    A bigger kid wearing paper bunny ears semaphored with both arms.
    â€œFollow the rabbit,” the teacher went on. “He’ll lead you to the finish. ARE YOU READY?”
    Jeremy toed the line. Leaned forward. Eyed the rabbit. Stood statue-still even when he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard a voice say, “Hey, Jeremy.”
    Aaron.
    Jeremy clenched his teeth and spread his elbows to fill in the gaps between himself and his neighbors. No way was he going to let Aaron lever himself into line beside him.
    Neither was Horace. “Get lost!” he growled, and to Jeremy’s relief Aaron stayed back until the sound of the