“Ah, c'mon. Lemme see.” Jess shook his head. Gary reached down and tried to pull Jess's hand away from the paper.
“The Case of the Crooked—c'mon, Jess,” he whispered hoarsely. “I ain't gonna hurt nothing.”
He yanked at Jess's thumb. Jess put both arms over the paper and brought his sneaker heel crashing down on Gary Fulcher's toe.
“Ye-ow!” “Boys!” Mrs. Myers' face had lost its lemon-pie smile.
“He stomped my toe.” “Take your seat, Gary.” “But he—” “Sit down!”
“Jesse Aarons. One more peep from your direction and you can spend recess in here. Copying the dictionary.”
Jess's face was burning hot. He slid the notebook paper back under his desktop and put his head down.
A whole year of this. Eight more years of this. He wasn't sure he could stand it.
The children ate lunch at their desks. The county had been promising Lark Creek a lunchroom for twenty years,
but there never seemed to be enough money. Jess had been so careful not to lose his recess time
that even now he chewed his bologna sandwich with his lips tight shut and his eyes on the initialed heart.
Around him conversations buzzed. They were not supposed to talk during lunch,
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