Free The Secret of Ferrell Savage by J. Duddy Gill & Sonia Chaghatzbanian

are, aren’t you?”
    I hate it when she thinks she knows everything.
    â€œYes,” I grumbled.
    â€œRight. So when are you going to tell Littledood?”
    â€œI could tell him right before science class if you’d just give me a chance,” I said.
    â€œWhat’s with the shiny shoes? Are you playing golf after school?” she asked.
    â€œAs a matter of fact, I am. I won’t be home.”
    â€œEven Tiger Woods can’t play in the snow. Wow,you must be really good,” she noted. I could actually hear her roll her eyes.
    I gritted my teeth and then started mumbling.
    â€œYou think that just because you’re muttering under your breath I can’t hear you,” she said. “But I hear you perfectly. Something about me flying a kite into a tornado over pirate- and shark-infested waters. Am I right?”
    I slammed my locker shut and looked her in the face. “Did you know Hitler was a vegetarian?” I asked.
    â€œWhat’s your point?”
    I didn’t know either. I guess I was trying to scare her by showing her I could be a powerful dictator if I wanted, but, on second thought, the last thing a middle-school kid with cannibalistic tendencies needs is to be compared with a senseless murderer of millions.
    â€œI don’t know” was all I said. Lame.
    She turned to go to her class, but then she turned back around to face me. “Your mother is so desperate, she hides butter to put on her toast.”
    â€œWell, your mother is so skinny, she uses a Cheerio for a hula hoop!”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œI have no idea! What are you talking about?” I shouted into the now empty hallway.
    â€œI’m talking about how your mother eats her toast at the sink, so you won’t know she’s putting butter on it—real butter, from the milk of live cows. She keeps it hidden in your fridge, in an empty Arm & Hammer Baking Soda box.”
    â€œYou’re making that up!”
    â€œAnd one time she came into the restaurant, and my mom said your mom ordered a club sandwich. A real one,” she said.
    The bell rang, but Mary and I were stuck in a stare down—like we used to do when we were in second grade.
    â€œYou look away first,” I said.
    â€œNo way,” she said. “I always win at staring contests. You know I’ll stand here all day if I have to.”
    â€œYou’re going to miss class. Don’t you have some big new words to learn? Some more As to make?” Dang, those were supposed to be insults, but they sure weren’t sounding like them. I had a lot to learn in the whole game of fighting.
    â€œOkay, on the count of three, we’ll both look away. Agreed?” she asked.
    â€œAgreed,” I said. And, without losing eye contact, I walked just close enough to her so we could shake on it.
    â€œOkay, get ready,” she said. “One. Two. Thr—” She stopped. “Ha! I won! You looked away. I won!”
    â€œYou cheated,” I exclaimed, refusing to look at her again and risk starting the whole thing over.
    â€œThat’s not cheating. I deceived you. There’s nothing wrong with deception, Ferrell Savage.”
    Just then two guys I barely knew came down the hall. “Hey, you’re the Golden Hill survivor dude,” one of them said.
    â€œCool shoes,” the other one said.
    I thanked them and then looked at Mary, to show her that some people recognized cool when they saw it, but she was already halfway down the hall and walking through her classroom doorway.
    I click-clacked to my own classroom, half-completed homework in hand, mumbling to myself about Mary, kites, lightning, tornadoes, cramps, and pirate- and shark-infested oceans.

Chapter Fifteen

    I WAS LATE TO SCIENCE class and still only had half my homework. I quickly prepared to tell Mrs. Beaker I couldn’t find it. Which wouldn’t really be a lie, after all, because when