Free Up High in the Trees by Kiara Brinkman Page B

coat, so the rest of it flies behind him like a cape.
    What’s your name?! the boy screams. What’syourname, what’syourname, what’syourname! he screams and he rides the yellow bike toward me.
    His sister is running after him and she’s also screaming, What’syourname, what’syourname, what’syourname!
    The boy rides right past me without stopping and the girl follows him. I look at her feet. She’s not wearing the white shoes. She’s wearing black high-top sneakers.
    The boy turns around at the end of the street and comes toward me again. This time he stops in front of the white house and jumps off the seat so he’s standing with one foot on each side of the yellow bike. His sister catches up with him.
    You know how to talk or what? the boy asks me.
    His sister’s coughing from running so much. She bendsforward onto her knees, then sits down on the ground. She coughs without covering her mouth.
    Do you talk? the boy asks me again.
    Yes, I tell him.
    Did you hear that? he asks his sister and she just nods her head.
    Today the boy is wearing a shirt. It’s gray with long sleeves. His coat looks funny now, hanging flat around his head. He’s wearing shorts instead of pants even though it’s cold outside. His shoes are tall, red cowboy boots that go all the way up to his knees. The girl stands up next to him so that I’ll look at her, too. She’s wearing jeans and a white coat. Her jeans are too short. I can see that she’s wearing red socks.
    Do you want your bike? the boy asks. His voice is louder again.
    You can have it if you want, I tell him. I stand up because I’m ready to go back inside the white house and lock the door. Then the boy will have to go away.
    Hey! he screams. He gets off the bike and pushes it over so that it lands hard on the ground and then kicks the front tire.
    I don’t want your damn, stinking bike, the boy says.
    The girl copies him. She kicks the front tire and says, I don’t want your damn, stinking bike.
    Shut up, Shelly, the boy says and pushes her.
    Who do you live here with? the boy yells at me. Then he starts coughing. He doesn’t cover his mouth either.
    My Dad, I tell him.
    Do you want me to ring the doorbell and ask your dad what your dumb name is? he asks. His voice is quieter now.
    No, I say. I sit back down on the front steps.
    Well, then, he says and walks toward me. He looks back at his sister and puts his hand up so she doesn’t follow him.
    The boy keeps walking toward me and I don’t know what to do.
    My name is Sebby, I tell him to make him stop walking.
    The boy stops and puts his hands in his pockets. Up close, he has freckles all over his cheeks and on his nose.
    That’s not a name, he says.
    My whole name is Sebastian James Lane, I tell him.
    The boy nods his head at me.
    Okay, fine, he says, Sebastian James Lane. He says my name funny, like it’s a fancy name.
    I don’t like how he says it.
    My name is Jackson and that’s Shelly, he says. He points at his sister and she stands up, but then he holds his hand out the same way as before and that means she has to stay where she is.
    Nice to meet you, the boy says and puts out his hand for me to shake.
    I shake it and then he walks away.
    Hey! the girl yells at me, how come you wear glasses all the time?
    So I can see more, I tell her
    The boy turns around to look at me.
    See ya, he says. Next time you don’t have to be such a jerk.

    Dear Ms. Lambert,
    A long time ago, I fell out the window and I was okay. I was thinking about falling and what it would be like and then it happened.
    There’s a boy here named Jackson and a girl named Shelly. I had to tell them my name and now maybe they will be nice to me.
    I have a dead Grandpa Chuck who liked pigeons. Do you think that’s weird to like pigeons? I don’t like any birds, because when I see one then I think something bad is going to happen.
    Mother saw a