“I told you. Your teachers told Mr. Tushman that you were the kind of kid who’s known for being a good egg.
I mean, I’m so proud that they think so highly of you...”
“Why is it sad?” “What do you mean?” “You said it’s flattering but kind of sad, too.”
“Oh.” Mom nodded. “Well, apparently this boy has some sort of... um, I guess there’s something wrong with his face..
or something like that. Not sure. Maybe he was in an accident.
Mr. Tushman said he’d explain a bit more when you come to the school next week.”
“School doesn’t start till September!” “He wants you to meet this kid before school starts.”
“Do I have to?” Mom looked a bit surprised.
“Well, no, of course not,” she said, “but it would be the nice thing to do, Jack.”
“If I don’t have to do it,” I said, “I don’t want to do it.”
Can you at least think about it?” “I’m thinking about it and I don’t want to do it.
Well, I’m not going to force you,” she said, “but at least think about it some more, okay?
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