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“You can’t keep telling people you don’t pick your nose,” said Stuart. “That sounds weird.”
“But I don’t!” said Marvin.
His face burned as he thought about it.
Everybody had laughed at him. Even Nick and Stuart. If they were true friends, they would have stuck up for him.
He couldn’t stop thinking about it, all day and into the night.
It was unfair. He didn’t pick his nose. The ball was over the line.
When he got to school the next morning, the first person he saw was Casey Happleton.
“Hi, Marvin,” said Casey. Her ponytail stuck out of the side of her head.
“I didn’t pick my nose,” said Marvin.
“What?”
“I didn’t pick my nose,” he repeated.
Casey looked at him a moment. Then she remembered. “You’re gross,” she said.
Warren sat in front of him. He had been absent yesterday.
“Hey, Warren,” Marvin whispered as he tapped Warren’s shoulder.
Warren turned around.
“Did you hear I pick my nose?” Marvin asked him. “Well, I don’t.”
Melanie sat next to Warren. “What’d he say? What’d he say?” she asked. Melanie always wanted to know everything.
“He asked me if I knew he picked his nose,” said Warren.
“Oh, yeah,” said Melanie. “Marvin’s the biggest nose picker in the whole school.”
“I am not!” whispered Marvin.
All morning Marvin kept telling everyone he didn’t pick his nose. But the more he talked about it, the more the other kids teased him about it.
And the more they teased him, the more he kept talking about it.
“Don’t get too close to Marvin,” said Clarence. “Or else he’ll try to pick your nose too.”
3
It got worse.…
“What’s your favorite color, Marvin?” asked Judy.
Marvin thought about red, because he had red hair and his name was Marvin Redpost. But really, he liked green better—the color of grass and trees. The color of springtime.
“Green,” he said.
“The color of boogers!” said Melanie.
“You’re disgusting, Marvin!” said Judy as she wrote down his answer on her sheet of paper.
