He mustn't let Fulcher suspect that he was scared of a little belt in the mouth.
But instead Gary broke into a trot and started bossing the threes into line for their heat.
“You can run with the fours, Leslie.” He said it loudly enough to make sure Fulcher could hear him and then concentrated on the runners.
See, he told himself, you can stand up to a creep like Fulcher. No sweat.
Bobby Miller won the threes easily. He was the best of the fourth graders, almost as fast as Fulcher.
But not as good as me, Jess thought. He was beginning to get really excited now.
There wasn't anybody in the fours who could give him much of a race.
Still it would be better to give Fulcher a scare by running well in the heat.
Leslie lined up beside him on the right. He moved a tiny bit to the left, but she didn't seem to notice.
At the bang Jess shot forward. It felt good—even the rough ground against the bottom of his worn sneakers.
He was pumping good. He could almost smell Gary Fulcher's surprise at his improvement.
The crowd was noisier than they'd been during the other heats. Maybe they were all noticing.
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