Free Skinnybones by Barbara Park

shrugged again. “Help yourself.”
    I hurried to the table and picked up my fork.
    My mother glanced over at me. “Chicken,” she said.
    Geez! What was wrong with her, anyway? Couldn’t she give it a rest?
    “I’m not a chicken, Mother! I ran off the Little League field because I’d already blown it and Ididn’t know what else to do! But that doesn’t mean I’m a chicken!”
    Mom stared at me for quite a while. Finally, she turned to Dad and pointed at the food.
    “Chicken?” she said.
    After he had taken a piece, she turned back to me again. “Shall we try this one more time, Alex? Chicken?”
    This time, I stuck my fork into a chicken breast and put it on my plate. I managed to mumble “thank you,” but that was the last thing I said during the entire meal.
    After I ate, I went back to my room and fed my graham-cracker-and-pretzel sandwich to my fish.
    Then I took a shower and went straight to bed.
    Tomorrow I would have to face the whole school. And something told me it was going to take every bit of strength I had.

chapter twelve
WHO WOULD HAVE THUNK IT?
    One of the things I really hate about my mom is how she always knows when I’m lying. Don’t ask me how she does it. I’ve tried to figure it out, but so far I’ve had no luck at all.
    On Monday morning, when she came to get me out of bed, I moaned and groaned and held my sides. But she didn’t buy it for a second. Instead, she just opened my blinds and smiled.
    “What a nice sunny day it is out there,” she said.
    “Aggg … ooowww!” I cried out.
    Mom rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. I guess I’m supposed to play along and ask you what’s wrong with your stomach.”
    I doubled over. “It’s killing me, Mother. That’s what’s wrong. There must have been somethingwrong with my chicken last night.”
    Mom walked over to my fish bowl. “Did your fish have chicken for dinner, too?” she asked.
    “Don’t make jokes. This isn’t funny,” I told her.
    “I’m not making a joke, Alex. Your fish is belly-up,” she said.
    I jumped out of bed and ran over to the bowl. “That’s impossible. No! He can’t be! I just bought him! He couldn’t have croaked already!”
    Mom looked closer. “Maybe he’s faking it. Maybe he just wants us to flush him down the toilet so he can swim to the sea,” she said.
    I glared at her. “How can you make a joke about this? This is my dead pet we’re talking about here.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Alex. You go through at least one fish a week. You’ve only had that one for three days. How much can a three-day-old goldfish mean to you?”
    “A lot, Mother. That’s how much. For the past three days, that fish was the only friend I had.”
    I put my hand over my heart. “We shared our secrets and our dreams.”
    I thought a moment.
    “Plus a graham cracker and two pretzels,” I added quietly.
    I got my fish net and scooped him up. Then I ranhim into the bathroom and flushed. I watched him swirl. Another buck-fifty right down the pot.
    When I got back to my room, my mother was smiling.
    “Well, I see that your stomach is better,” she said. “You haven’t moaned or groaned for several minutes.”
    I grabbed my sides and bent over.
    “Forget it, Alex,” she said. “You’re going to school.”
    Geez! If it hadn’t been for that stupid fish, I could have pulled it off! Man! You try to do your pet a favor by giving him a special snack and he pays you back by dying. How selfish and inconsiderate is
that?
    After breakfast, I walked to school as slowly as I could. I was trying to brace myself for all the teasing. There was going to be a ton of it, too. And what made it even worse was that T.J. Stoner was going to be leading the pack.
    As I walked onto the playground, I saw T.J. standing at the water fountain. He didn’t see me, though. That’s because there were about a million little kids gathered around him, waving pieces of paper.
    No. It can’t be
, I thought.
They’re not asking him for