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Bret was getting cranky. They’d been practicing for the Christmas assembly for more than an hour, and he, like most of the boys, hated standing still. They were all in rows, all the fourth and fifth graders, standing side by side on three risers. The music teacher, Mrs. Barnett, had organized them by height, which meant that the girls were next to the boys, and that was always a problem.
Mrs. B. rapped her wooden pointer on the metal music stand. “Come on, children, pay attention. Now, let’s try the last verse again. ” Mrs. B. raised her poker and nodded at Mr. Adam, who was sitting at the piano in the corner. At the cue, he started playing “Silent Night. ”
Bret couldn’t remember a single word.
Katie elbowed him, hard. “Sing. ”
He hit her back. “Shut up. ”
She pinched him, right in the fat part of his upper arm. “I’m gonna tell. ”
“Bite me. ”
Katie slammed her arms down and stomped one foot so hard the whole riser shuddered. “Mrs. Barnett,” she yelled in a shrill, gloating voice, “Bret Campbell isn’t singing. ”
Mr. Adam’s fingers stumbled on the keys. There was a confused jangle of notes, and then silence.
Katie flashed Bret a satisfied smile.
He rolled his eyes. Like he cared.
Slowly Mrs. B. lowered her pointer. “Now, Katherine, that’s not really your concern, is it?”
“She thinks everything is her concern,” someone said, laughing.
Katie blushed. It was totally cool the way her whole face turned red. “B-But you said we all—”
Mrs. B. smiled at Bret, but it was a weird smile, sorta wiggly and sad. “Let’s not pick on Bret. We all know—”
Bret stuck his tongue out at Katie.
“—that his mom just woke up, and that it’s been a hard time for the family. ”
We all know his mom woke up.
Bret couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be true. Dad would have told him if Mommy woke up. But Mrs. B. said it …
He clutched Katie’s arm to steady himself.
She let out a little squeal, then opened her mouth to tell on him again. Only nothing came out. Instead, she frowned at Bret. “You look gross. Are you gonna puke?”
“My daddy wouldn’t do that,” he said to her.
Suddenly the door to the music room banged open and Jacey stood in the opening. Her face was all red and streaked, as if she’d been crying. “Mrs. Barnett,” she said, “I need to take Bret home now. ”
Mrs. B. nodded. “Go along, Bret. ”
Bret wrenched away from Katie so hard that four kids fell backward off the risers. He could hear everyone whispering, and he knew they were talking about him. Something else he didn’t care about.
He walked around the curious circle of his friends. Now he didn’t care if everyone saw that he was almost crying. He just wanted Mrs. B. to say that it was a mistake. Daddy would definitely have told Bret if Mom was awake.
He went to his sister. He felt very small all of a sudden, like a broken-legged action figure staring up at G. I. Joe, and his heart was beating so fast he felt dizzy. “Is Mommy—”
“Come on, Bretster. ” She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the music room and down the hall. Outside, the Explorer was parked in the bus loading zone—a complete and total no-no at this time of day. The buses would be pulling up any minute. He saw that his dad was in the driver’s seat.
This is bad.
Bret allowed himself to be loaded into the backseat like a bag of grain. Jacey strapped him into his seat, then jumped into the front seat. Before Bret could even think of what to say, they were speeding through town. People were all over the streets, putting up decorations for the Glacier Days Festival this weekend, but Dad didn’t wave to a single person. And he was driving way too fast.
