Free Gabe Johnson Takes Over by Geoff Herbach

later, I had fifteen new messages on my Facebook post. By midafternoon, I had twenty-six.
    The Geekers were becoming united. Sort of.
    Strengthening the bone, I guess. The leadership bone.
    Here’s the problem: I didn’t really have anything to tell any of the twenty-six band people who contacted me. So I wrote back to all of them. I’m putting together a plan of action. Stay tuned. This is the beginning.
    Everybody was pretty cool, except Austin Bates, who wrote back to me, Can’t wait to hear about your big plan, fudge nuts.
    Camille had to go to her grandma’s house to help her weed and crap, so she wasn’t available for counsel.
    No, didn’t hear a peep out of Shaver. Why would Shaver contact me?
    I know people think Shaver had something to do with all this, but other than falling apart and getting arrested, he didn’t.
    Justin was totally silent. Remember how he texted me a couple days before with Talk tomorrow? He didn’t contact me at all. I’m sure he saw all the stuff on Facebook. He’s the class president and he stays on top of everyone’s business. Dude seriously knows if someone’s grandma in Ohio has a cold or whatever. He wouldn’t miss this band news just because he’d fallen in love with a magical evil witch.
    Kailey? How would I know her reaction, man?
    Okay. Sure. You already know apparently. Yes, I did get a Facebook message from Baba Obi that said I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
    No, sir, I don’t mind if you use the facilities. Good luck to you. They aren’t pretty.

CHAPTER 12
    Welcome back, Mr. Rodriguez. You were gone a long time.
    Talked to who?
    Yeah! You’d think the cops would do a better job cleaning their bathroom. It’s like they hired Doris to be the janitor or something. Better laugh than cry.
    Way to change the subject by the way. Who did you talk to?
    Fine. I’ll tell you about Tuesday.
    Resort people really started flowing into the donut shop on Tuesday morning. It’s been a pretty cool start to the season, right? But the weather Tuesday got summery, temperature in the 80s (not great for a fat kid who sweats like a hot dog). The rich people swarmed, man. Two Long Johns ! Is this whole wheat? Do you use local ingredients? Half dozen of the glazed— Gore and I were on, but Dante had to call RC III to come help too. That’s how crazy it was.
    While all the richies shouted about donuts, Camille texted me like ten times. She kept suggesting different places where we could have the concert. Wilson Beach on the sand, the playground next to the marina, softball field (which is actually in use throughout Spunk River Days), etc . Then she asked questions like Where are we going to practice? I drove up to school. It’s locked. How can we get the sheet music? Music stands? How many songs do you think we all know by memory? Haven’t marched or pepped in a long time.
    At one point, even though customers were staring at me, I texted back TOO BUSY. TALK LATER.
    RC III and Gore glared at me. Gore said, “Stop looking at your phone. Too many customers. You’re not acting like a professional.”
    â€œLike a professional donut salesman? What’s that?” I asked while I was pulling a jelly-filled donut for a blond kid.
    The kid’s mom smiled.
    â€œQuality in all we do,” Gore said.
    â€œHah,” RC III laughed. “That’s what my dad says.”
    â€œQuality in looking like a zombie,” I mumbled.
    â€œI heard that,” Gore said. RC III glared at me and shook his head. But Gore laughed a little. Gore doesn’t ever let rip like a roaring laugh, but she actually laughs a lot. It’s just sort of hard to tell. Her black lipstick mouth doesn’t really smile. She just makes a little exhale sound and her eyes crinkle.
    Did you know she has purple eyes?
    Well, blue-violet anyway.
    Man, we worked and worked and worked.
    Around 10:30, the store