奇迹男孩WONDER(英语版)
Fiction
Drama
Education
Language Learning

奇迹男孩WONDER(英语版)

作者: Qiming_Tian
最近更新: 2022/10/20
天生面部缺陷的小男孩奥吉,从小由母亲在家里教导,五年级时,他终于有机会进入普通的学校学习。初进学校的奥吉因为自己的长相受到同学们的嘲笑和欺负,但是在父亲、母亲、姐姐、老师以及好友的帮助下,他最终找到了...

Recent Episodes

[Part 2_Via]C35——August Through the Peephole

[Part 2_Via]C35——August Through the Peephole

August Through the Peephole His eyes are about an inch below where they should be on his face, almost to halfway down his cheeks. They slant downward at an extreme angle, almost like diagonal slits that someone cut into his face, and the left one is noticeably lower than the right one. They bulge outward because his eye cavities are too shallow to accommodate them. The top eyelids are always halfway closed, like he's on the verge of sleeping. The lower eyelids sag so much they almost look like a piece of invisible string is pulling them downward: you can see the red part on the inside, like they're almost inside out. He doesn't have eyebrows or eyelashes. His nose is disproportionately big for his face, and kind of fleshy. His head is pinched in on the sides where the ears should be, like someone used giant pliers and crushed the middle part of his face. He doesn't have cheekbones. There are deep creases running down both sides of his nose to his mouth, which gives him a waxy appearance. Sometimes people assume he's been burned in a fire: his features look like they've been melted, like the drippings on the side of a candle. Several surgeries to correct his lip have left a few scars around his mouth, the most noticeable one being a jagged gash running from the middle of his upper lip to his nose. His upper teeth are small and splay out. He has a severe overbite and an extremely undersized jawbone. He has a very small chin. When he was very little, before a piece of his hip bone was surgically implanted into his lower jaw, he really had no chin at all. His tongue would just hang out of his mouth with nothing underneath to block it. Thankfully, it's better now. He can eat, at least: when he was younger, he had a feeding tube. And he can talk. And he's learned to keep his tongue inside his mouth, though that took him several years to master. He's also learned to control the drool that used to run down his neck.These are considered miracles. When he was a baby, the doctors didn't think he'd live. He can hear, too. Most kids born with these types of birth defects have problems with their middle ears that prevent them from hearing, but so far August can hear well enough through his tiny cauliflower-shaped ears. The doctors think that eventually he'll need to wear hearing aids, though. August hates the thought of this. He thinks the hearing aids will get noticed too much. I don't tell him that the hearing aids would be the least of his problems, of course, because I'm sure he knows this. Then again, I'm not really sure what August knows or doesn't know, what he understands and doesn't understand. Does August see how other people see him, or has he gotten so good at pretending not to see that it doesn't bother him? Or does it bother him? When he looks in the mirror, does he see the Auggie Mom and Dad see, or does he see the Auggie everyone else sees? Or is there another August he sees, someone in his dreams behind the misshapen head and face? Sometimes when I looked at Grans, I could see the pretty girl she used to be underneath the wrinkles. I could see the girl from Ipanema inside the old-lady walk. Does August see himself as he might have looked without that single gene that caused the catastrophe of his face? I wish I could ask him this stuff. I wish he would tell me how he feels. He used to be easier to read before the surgeries. You knew that when his eyes squinted, he was happy. When his mouth went straight, he was being mischievous. When his cheeks trembled, he was about to cry. He looks better now, no doubt about that, but the signs we used to gauge his moods are all gone. There are new ones, of course. Mom and Dad can read every single one. But I'm having trouble keeping up. And there's a part of me that doesn't want to keep trying: why can't he just say what he's feeling like everyone else? He doesn't have a trache tube in his mouth anymore that keeps him from talking. His jaw's not wired shut. He's ten years old. He can use his words. But we circle around him like he's still the baby he used to be. We change plans, go to plan B, interrupt conversations, go back on promises depending on his moods, his whims, his needs. That was fine when he was little. But he needs to grow up now. We need to let him, help him, make him grow up. Here's what I think: we've all spent so much time trying to make August think he's normal that he actually thinks he is normal. And the problem is, he's not.

2022/10/20
06:47
[Part 2_Via]C34——Seeing August

[Part 2_Via]C34——Seeing August

Seeing AugustI never used to see August the way other people saw him. I knew he didn't look exactly normal, but I really didn't understand why strangers seemed so shocked when they saw him. Horrified. Sickened. Scared. There are so many words I can use to describe the looks on people's faces. And for a long time I didn't get it. I'd just get mad. Mad when they stared. Mad when they looked away. "What the heck are you looking at?" I'd say to people-even grown-ups. Then, when I was about eleven, I went to stay with Grans in Montauk for four weeks while August was having his big jaw surgery. This was the longest I'd ever been away from home, and I have to say it was so amazing to suddenly be free of all that stuff that made me so mad. No one stared at Grans and me when we went to town to buy groceries. No one pointed at us. No one even noticed us. Grans was one of those grandmothers who do everything with their grandkids. She'd run into the ocean if I asked her to, even if she had nice clothes on. She would let me play with her makeup and didn't mind if I used it on her face to practice my face-painting skills. She'd take me for ice cream even if we hadn't eaten dinner vet. She'd draw chalk horses on the sidewalk in front of her house. One night, while we were walking back from town, I told her that I wished I could live with her forever. was so happy there. I think it might have been the best time in my life. Coming home after four weeks felt very strange at first. I remember very vividly stepping through the door and seeing August running over to welcome me home, and for this tiny fraction of a moment I saw him not the way I've always seen him, but the way other people see him. It was only a flash, an instant while he was hugging me, so happy that I was home, but it surprised me because I'd never seen him like that before. And I'd never felt what I was feeling before, either: a feeling 1 hated myself for having the moment I had it. But as he was kissing me with all his heart, all I could see was the drool coming down his chin. And suddenly there I was, like all those people who would stare or look away. Horrified. Sickened. Scared. Thankfully, that only lasted for a second: the moment I heard August laugh his raspy little laugh, it was over. Everything was back the way it had been before. But it had opened a door for me. A little peephole. And on the other side of the peephole there were two Augusts: the one I saw blindly, and the one other people saw. I think the only person in the world I could have told any of this to was Grans, but I didn't. It was too hard to explain over the phone. I thought maybe when she came for Thanksgiving, I'd tell her what I felt. But just two months after I stayed with her in Montauk, my beautiful Grans died. It was so completely out of the blue. Apparently, she had checked herself into the hospital because she'd been feeling nauseous. Mom and I drove out to see her, but it's a three-hour drive from where we live, and by the time we got to the hospital, Grans was gone. A heart attack, they told us. Just like that. It's so strange how one day you can be on this earth, and the next day not. Where did she go? Will I really ever see her again, or is that a fairy tale? You see movies and TV shows where people receive horrible news in hospitals, but for us, with all our many trips to the hospital with August, there had always been good outcomes. What I remember the most from the day Grans died is Mom literally crumpling to the floor in slow, heaving sobs, holding her stomach like someone had just punched her. I've never, ever seen Mom like that. Never heard sounds like that come out of her. Even through all of August's surgeries, Mom always put on a brave face. On my last day in Montauk, Grans and I had watched the sun set on the beach. We had taken a blanket to sit on, but it had gotten chilly, so we wrapped it around us and cuddled and talked until there wasn't even a sliver of sun left over the ocean.And then Grans told me she had a secret to tell me: she loved me more than anyone else in the world. "Even August?" I had asked. She smiled and stroked my hair, like she was thinking about what to say. "I love Auggie very, very much," she said softly. I can still remember her Portuguese accent, the way she rolled her r's. "But he has many angels looking out for him already, Via. And I want you to know that you have me looking out for you. Okay, menina querida? I want you to know that you are number one for me. You are my ..." She looked out at the ocean and spread her hands out, like she was trying to smooth out the waves, "You are my everything. You understand me, Via? Tues meu tudo. I understood her. And I knew why she said it was a secret. Grandmothers aren't supposed to have favorites. Everyone knows that. But after she died, I held on to that secret and let it cover me like a blanket.

2022/10/4
07:36
[Part 2_Via]C33——Before August

[Part 2_Via]C33——Before August

Before August I honestly don't remember my life before August came into it. I look at pictures of me as a baby, and I see Mom and Dad smiling so happily, holding me. I can't believe how much younger they looked back then: Dad was this hipster dude and Mom was this cute Brazilian fashionista. There's one shot of me at my third birthday: Dad's right behind me while Mom's holding the cake with three lit candles, and in back of us are Tata and Poppa, Grans, Uncle Ben, Aunt Kate, and Uncle Po. Everyone's looking at me and I'm looking at the cake. You can see in that picture how I really was the first child, first grandchild, first niece. I don't remember what it felt like, of course, but I can see it plain as can be in the pictures. I don't remember the day they brought August home from the hospital. I don't remember what I said or did or felt when I saw him for the first time, though everyone has a story about it. Apparently, I just looked at him for a long time without saying anything at all, and then finally I said: "It doesn't look like Lilly!" That was the name of a doll Grans had given me when Mom was pregnant so I could "practice" being a big sister. It was one of those dolls that are incredibly lifelike, and I had carried it everywhere for months, changing its diaper, feeding it. I'm told I even made a baby sling for it. The story goes that after my initial reaction to August, it only took a few minutes (according to Grans) or a few days (according to Mom) before I was all over him: kissing him, cuddling him, baby talking to him. After that I never so much as touched or mentioned Lilly ever again.

2022/10/3
02:38
[Part 2_Via]C32——A Tour of the Galaxy

[Part 2_Via]C32——A Tour of the Galaxy

A Tour of the GalaxyAugust is the Sun. Me and Mom and Dad are planets orbiting the Sun. The rest of our family and friends are asteroids and comets floating around the planets orbiting the Sun. The only celestial body that doesn't orbit August the Sun is Daisy the dog, and that's only because to her little doggy eyes, August's face doesn't look very different from any other human's face. To Daisy, all our faces look alike, as flat and pale as the moon. I'm used to the way this universe works. I've never minded it because it's all I've ever known. I've always understood that August is special and has special needs. If I was playing too loudly and he was trying to take a nap, I knew I would have to play something else because he needed his rest after some procedure or other had left him weak and in pain. If I wanted Mom and Dad to watch me play soccer, I knew that nine out of ten times they'd miss it because they were busy shuttling August to speech therapy or physical therapy or a new specialist or a surgery. Mom and Dad would always say I was the most understanding little girl in the world. I don't know about that, just that I understood there was no point in complaining. I've seen August after his surgeries: his little face bandaged up and swollen, his tiny body full of IVs and tubes to keep him alive. After you've seen someone else going through that, it feels kind of crazy to complain over not getting the toy you had asked for, or your mom missing a school play. I knew this even when I was six years old. No one ever told it to me. I just knew it. So I've gotten used to not complaining, and I've gotten used to not bothering Mom and Dad with little stuff. I've gotten used to figuring things out on my own: how to put toys together, how to organize my life so I don't miss friends' birthday parties, how to stay on top of my schoolwork so I never fall behind in class. I've never asked for help with my homework. Never needed reminding to finish a project or study for a test. If I was having trouble with a subject in school, I'd go home and study it until I figured it out on my own. I taught myself how to convert fractions into decimal points by going online. I've done every school project pretty much by myself. When Mom or Dad ask me how things are going in school, I've always said "good" when it hasn't always been so good. My worst day, worst fall, worst headache, worst bruise, worst cramp, worst mean thing anyone could say has always been nothing compared to what August has gone through. This isn't me being noble, by the way: it's just the way I know it is. And this is the way it's always been for me, for the little universe of us. But this year there seems to be a shift in the cosmos. The galaxy is changing. Planets are falling out of alignment.

2022/9/28
04:25
[Part 1_August]C31——Names

[Part 1_August]C31——Names

NamesRat boy. Freak. Monster. Freddy Kruger. E.T. Gross-out, Lizard ace. Mutant. I know the names they call me. I've been in enough playgrounds to know kids can be mean. I know, I know, I know. I ended up in the second-floor bathroom. No one was there because first period had started and everyone was in class. I locked the door to my stall and took off my mask and just cried for I don't know how long. Then I went to the nurse's office and old her I had a stomach ache, which was true, because I felt like rd been kicked in the gut. Nurse Molly called Mom and had me lie down on the sofa next to her desk. Fifteen minutes later,Mom was at the door. "Sweetness," she said, coming over to hug me. "Hi." I mumbled. I didn't want her to ask anything until afterward. "You have a stomach ache?" she asked, automatically putting her hand on my forehead to check for my temperature. "He said he feels like throwing up," said Nurse Molly, looking at me with very nice eyes. "And I have a headache," I whispered. "I wonder if it's something you ate," said Mom, looking worried. "There's a stomach bug going around," said Nurse Molly. "Oh geez," said Mom, her eyebrows going up as she shook her head. She helped me to my feet. "Should I call a taxi or are you okay walking home?" "I can walk." "What a brave kid!" said Nurse Molly, patting me on the back as she walked us toward the door. "If he starts throwing up or runs a temperature, you should call the doctor." "Absolutely," said Mom, shaking Nurse Molly's hand. "Thank you so much for taking care of him." "My pleasure," answered Nurse Molly, putting her hand under my chin and tilting my face up. "You take care of yourself, okay?" I nodded and mumbled "Thank you." Mom and I hug-walked the whole way home. I didn't tell her anything about what had happened, and later when she asked me if I felt well enough to go trick-or-treating after school, I said no. This worried her, since she knew how much I usually loved trick-or-treating. I heard her say to Dad on the phone: "… He doesn't even have the energy to go trick-or-treating. ... No, no fever at all ... Well, I will if he doesn't feel better by tomorrow. ... I know, poor thing . .. Imagine his missing Halloween." I got out of going to school the next day, too, which was Friday. So I had the whole weekend to think about everything. I was pretty sure I would never go back to school again.

2022/9/26
03:36
[Part 1_August]C30——The Bleeding Scream

[Part 1_August]C30——The Bleeding Scream

The Bleeding Scream Walking through the halls that morning on my way to the lockers was, I have to say, absolutely awesome. Everything was different now. I was different. Where I usually walked with my head down, trying to avoid being seen, today I walked with my head up, looking around. I wanted to be seen. One kid wearing the same exact costume as mine, long white skull face oozing fake red blood, high-fived me as we passed each other on the stairs. I have no idea who he was, and he had no idea who I was, and I wondered for a second if he would have ever done that if he'd known it was me under the mask. I was starting to think this was going to go down as one of the most awesome days in the history of my life, but then I got to homeroom. The first costume I saw as I walked inside the door was Darth Sidious. It had one of the rubber masks that are so realistic, with a big black hood over the head and a long black robe. I knew right away it was Julian, of course. He must have changed his costume at the last minute because he thought I was coming as Jango Fett. He was talking to two mummies who must have been Miles and Henry, and they were all kind of looking at the door like they were waiting for someone to come through it. I knew it wasn't a Bleeding Scream they were looking for. It was a Boba Fett. I was going to go and sit at my usual desk, but for some reason, I don't know why, I found myself walking over to a desk near them, and I could hear them talking. One of the mummies was saying: "It really does look like him." "Like this part especially . ..," answered Julian's voice. He put his fingers on the cheeks and eyes of his Darth Sidious mask. "Actually," said the mummy, "what he really looks like is one of those shrunken heads. Have you ever seen those? He looks exactly like that." "I think he looks like an orc." "Oh veah!" "If I looked like that," said the Julian voice, kind of laughing, "I swear to God, I'd put a hood over my face every day." "I've thought about this a lot," said the second mummy, sounding serious, "and I really think ... if I looked like him, seriously, I think that I'd kill myself." "You would not," answered Darth Sidious. "Yeah, for real," insisted the same mummy. "I can't imagine looking in the mirror every day and seeing myself like that. It would be too awful. And getting stared at all the time." "Then why do you hang out with him so much?" asked Darth Sidious. "I don't know," answered the mummy. "Tushman asked me to hang out with him at the beginning of the year, and he must have told all the teachers to put us next to each other in all our classes, or something." The mummy shrugged. I knew the shrug, of course. I knew the voice. I knew I wanted to run out of the class right then and there. But I stood where I was and listened to Jack Will finish what he was saying. "I mean, the thing is: he always follows me around. What am I supposed to do?" "Just ditch him," said Julian. I don't know what Jack answered because I walked out of the class without anyone knowing I had been there. My face felt like it was on fire while I walked back down the stairs. I was sweating under my costume. And I started crying. I couldn't keep it from happening. The tears were so thick in my eyes I could barely see, but I couldn't wipe them through the mask as I walked. I was looking for a little tiny spot to disappear into. I wanted a hole I could fall inside of: a little black hole that would eat me up.

2022/9/23
05:13
[Part 1_August]C29——Costumes

[Part 1_August]C29——Costumes

CostumesFor me, Halloween is the best holiday in the world. It even beats Christmas. I get to dress up in a costume. I get to wear a mask. I get to go around like every other kid with a mask and nobody thinks Ilook weird. Nobody takes a second look. Nobody notices me. Nobody knows me. I wish every day could be Halloween. We could all wear masks all the time. Then we could walk around and get to know each other before we got to see what we looked like under the masks. When I was little, I used to wear an astronaut helmet everywhere I went. To the playground. To the supermarket. To pick Via up from school. Even in the middle of summer, though it was so hot my face would sweat. I think I wore it for a couple of years, but I had to stop wearing it when I had my eye surgery. I was about seven, I think. And then we couldn't find the helmet after that. Mom looked everywhere for it. She figured that it had probably ended up in Grans's attic, and she kept meaning to look for it, but by then I had gotten used to not wearing it. I have pictures of me in all my Halloween costumes. My first Halloween I was a pumpkin. My second I was Tigger. My third I was Peter Pan (my dad dressed up as Captain Hook). My fourth I was Captain Hook (my dad dressed up as Peter Pan). My fifth I was an astronaut. My sixth I was Obi-Wan Kenobi. My seventh I was a clone trooper. My eighth I was Darth Vader. My ninth I was the Bleeding Scream, the one that has fake blood oozing out over the skull mask. This year I'm going to be Boba Fett: not Boba Fett the kid in Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, but Boba Fett the man from Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Mom searched everywhere for the costume but couldn't find one in my size, so she bought me a Jango Fett costume since Jango was Boba's dad and wore the same armor and then painted the armor green. She did some other stuff to it to make it look worn, too. Anyway, it looks totally real. Mom's good at costumes. In homeroom we all talked about what we were going to be for Halloween. Charlotte was going as Hermione from Harry Potter. Jack was going as a wolfman. I heard that Julian was going as Jango Fett, which was a weird coincidence. I don't think he liked hearing that I was going as Boba Fett. On the morning of Halloween, Via had this big crying meltdown about something. Via's always been so calm and cool, but this year she's had a couple of these kinds of fits. Dad was late for work and was like, "Via, let's go! Let's go!" Usually Dad is super patient about things, but not when it comes to his being late for work, and his yelling just stressed out Via even more, and she started crying louder, so Mom told Dad to take me to school and that she'd deal with Via. Then Mom kissed me goodbye quickly, before I even put on my costume, and disappeared into Via's room. "Auggie, let's go now!" said Dad. "I have a meeting I can't be late for!" "I haven't put my costume on yet!" "So put it on, already. Five minutes. I'll meet you outside." I rushed to my room and started to put on the Boba Fett costume, but all of a sudden I didn't feel like wearing it. I'm not sure why maybe because it had all these belts that needed to be tightened and I needed someone's help to put it on. Or maybe it was because it still smelled a little like paint. All I knew was that it was a lot of work to put the costume on, and Dad was waiting and would get super impatient if I made him late. So, at the last minute, I threw on the Bleeding Scream costume from last year. It was such an easy costume: just a long black robe and a big white mask. I yelled goodbye from the door on my way out, but Mom didn't even hear me. "I thought you were going as Jango Fett," said Dad when I got outside. "Boba Fett!" "Whatever," said Dad. "This is a better costume anyway." "Yeah, it's cool," I answered.

2022/9/21
05:43
[Part 1_August]C28——The Cheese Touch

[Part 1_August]C28——The Cheese Touch

The Cheese Touch I noticed not too long ago that even though people were getting used to me, no one would actually touch me. I didn't realize this at first because it's not like kids go around touching each other that much in middle school anyway. But last Thursday in dance class, which is, like, my least favorite class, Mrs. Atanabi, the teacher, tried to make Ximena Chin be my dance partner. Now, I've never actually seen someone have a "panic attack" before, but I have heard about it, and I'm pretty sure Ximena had a panic attack at that second. She got really nervous and turned pale and literally broke into a sweat within a minute, and then she came up with some lame excuse about really having to go to the bathroom. Anyway, Mrs. Atanabi let her off the hook, because she ended up not making anyone dance together. Then yesterday in my science elective, we were doing this cool mystery-powder investigation where we had to classify a substance as an acid or a base. Everyone had to heat their mystery powders on a heating plate and make observations, so we were all huddled around the powders with our notebooks. Now, there are eight kids in the elective, and seven of them were squished together on one side of the plate while one of them me had loads of room on the other side. So of course I noticed this, but I was hoping Ms. Rubin wouldn't notice this, because I didn't want her to say something. But of course she did notice this, and of course she said something. "Guys, there's plenty of room on that side. Tristan, Nino, go over there," she said, so Tristan and Nino scooted over to my side. Tristan and Nino have always been okay-nice to me. I want to go on record as saying that. Not super-nice, like they go out of their way to hang out with me, but okay-nice, like they say hello to me and talk to me like normal. And they didn't even make a face when Ms. Rubin told them to come on my side, which a lot of kids do when they think I'm not looking. Anyway, everything was going fine until Tristan's mystery powder started melting. He moved his foil off the plate just as my powder began to melt, too, which is why I went to move mine off the plate, and then my hand accidentally bumped his hand for a fraction of a second. Tristan jerked his hand away so fast he dropped his foil on the floor while also knocking everyone else's foil off the heating plate. "Tristan!" yelled Ms. Rubin, but Tristan didn't even care about the spilled powder on the floor or that he ruined the experiment. What he was most concerned about was getting to the lab sink to wash his hands as fast as possible. That's when I knew for sure that there was this thing about touching me at Beecher Prep. I think it's like the Cheese Touch in Diary of a Wimpy Kid. The kids in that story were afraid they'd catch the cooties if they touched the old moldy cheese on the basketball court. At Beecher Prep, I'm the old moldy cheese.

2022/9/19
03:24
[Part 1_August]C27——School Pictures

[Part 1_August]C27——School Pictures

School PicturesI don't think anyone will be shocked to learn I don't want to have my school picture taken on October 22. No way. No thank you. I stopped letting anyone take pictures of me a while ago. I guess you could call it a phobia. No, actually, it's not a phobia. It's an "aversion," which is a word I just learned in Mr. Browne's class. I have an aversion to having my picture taken. There, I used it in a sentence. I thought Mom would try to get me to drop my aversion to having my picture taken for school, but she didn't. Unfortunately, while I managed to avoid having the portrait taken, I couldn't get out of being part of the class picture. Ugh. The photographer looked like he'd just sucked on a lemon when he saw me. I'm sure he thought I ruined the picture. I was one of the ones in the front, sitting down. I didn't smile, not that anyone could tell if I had.

2022/9/18
01:18
[Part 1_August]C26——Halloween

[Part 1_August]C26——Halloween

Halloween At lunch the next day, Summer asked me what I was going to be for Halloween. Of course, I'd been thinking about it since last Halloween, so I knew right away. "Boba Fett." "You know you can wear a costume to school on Halloween, right?" "No way, really?" "So long as it's politically correct." "What, like no guns and stuff?? "Exactly." "What about blasters?" "I think a blaster's like a gun, Auggie." "Oh man . . . ," I said, shaking my head. Boba Fett has a blaster. "At least, we don't have to come like a character in a book anymore. In the lower school that's what you had to do. Last year I was the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz." "But that's a movie, not a book." "Hello?" Summer answered. "It was a book first! One of my favorite books in the world, actually. My dad used to read it to me every night in the first grade." When Summer talks, especially when she's excited about something, her eyes squint like she's looking right at the sun. I hardly ever see Summer during the day, since the only class we have together is English. But ever since that first lunch at school, we've sat at the summer table together every day, just the two of us. "So, what are you going to be?" I asked her. "I don't know yet. I know what I'd really want to go as, but I think it might be too dorky. You know, Savanna's group isn't even wearing costumes this year. They think we're too old for Halloween." "What? That's just dumb." "I know, right?" "I thought you didn't care what those girls think." She shrugged and took a long drink of her milk. "So, what dorky thing do you want to dress up as?" I asked her, smiling. "Promise not to laugh?" She raised her eyebrows and her shoulders, embarrassed. "A unicorn." I smiled and looked down at my sandwich. "Hey, you promised not to laugh!" she laughed. "Okay, okay," I said. "But you're right: that is too dorky." "I know!" she said. "But I have it all planned out: I'd make the head out of papier-mâche, and paint the horn gold and make the mane gold, too. ... It would be so awesome." "Okay." I shrugged. "Then you should do it. Who cares what other people think, right?" "Maybe what I'll do is just wear it for the Halloween Parade," she said, snapping her fingers. "And I'll just be, like, a Goth girl for school. Yeah, that's it, that's what I'll do." "Sounds like a plan." I nodded. "Thanks, Auggie," she giggled. "You know, that's what I like best about you. I feel like I can tell you anything." "Yeah?" I answered, nodding. I gave her a thumbs-up sign. "Cool beans."

2022/9/17
03:47
[Part 1_August]C25——Apples

[Part 1_August]C25——Apples

ApplesMy birthday is October 10. I like my birthday: 10/10. It would've been great if I'd been born at exactly 10:10 in the morning or at night, but I wasn't. I was born just after midnight. But I still think my birthday is cool. I usually have a little party at home, but this year I asked Mom if I could have a big bowling party. Mom was surprised but happy. She asked me who I wanted to ask from my class, and I said everyone in my homeroom plus Summer. "That's a lot of kids, Auggie, ," said Mom. "I have to invite everyone because I don't want anyone to get their feelings hurt if they find out other people are invited and they aren't, okay?" "Okay," Mom agreed. "You even want to invite the 'what's the deal' kid?" "Yeah, you can invite Julian," I answered. "Geez, Mom, you should forget about that already." "I know, you're right." A couple of weeks later, I asked Mom who was coming to my party, and she said: "Jack Will, Summer. Reid Kingsley. Both Maxes. And a couple of other kids said they were going to try to be there." "Like who?" "Charlotte's mom said Charlotte had a dance recital earlier in the day, but she was going to try to come to your party if time allowed. And Tristan's mom said he might come after his soccer game." "So that's it?" I said. "That's like . .. five people." "That's more than five people, Auggie. I think a lot of people just had plans already," Mom answered. We were in the kitchen.She was cutting one of the apples we had just gotten at the farmers' market into teensy-weensy bites so I could eat it. "What kind of plans?" I asked. "I don't know, Auggie. We sent out the evites kind of late." "Like what did they tell you, though? What reasons did they give?" "Everyone gave different reasons, Auggie." She sounded a bit impatient. "Really, sweetie, it shouldn't matter what their reasons were. People had plans, that's all." "What did Julian give as his reason?" I asked. "You know," said Mom, "his mom was the only person who didn't RSVP at all." She looked at me. "I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I laughed because I thought she was making a joke, but then I realized she wasn't. "What does that mean?" I asked. "Never mind. Now go wash your hands so you can eat." My birthday party turned out to be much smaller than I thought it would be, but it was still great. Jack, Summer, Reid, Tristan, and both Maxes came from school, and Christopher came, too all the way from Bridgeport with his parents. And Uncle Ben came. And Aunt Kate and Uncle Po drove in from Boston, though Tata and Poppa were in Florida for the winter. It was fun because all the grown-ups ended up bowling in the lane next to ours, so it really felt like there were a lot of people there to celebrate my birthday.

2022/9/16
04:05
[Part 1_August]C24——Mr.Browne’s October Precept

[Part 1_August]C24——Mr.Browne’s October Precept

Mr.Browne’s October Precept Mr. Browne's precept for October was: YOUR DEEDS ARE YOUR MONUMENTS. He told us that this was written on the tombstone of some Egyptian guy that died thousands of years ago. Since we were just about to start studying ancient Egypt in history, Mr. Browne thought this was a good choice for a precept. Our homework assignment was to write a paragraph about what we thought the precept meant or how we felt about it. This is what I wrote: This precept means that we should be remembered for the things we do. The things we do are the most important things of all. They are more important than what we say or what we look like. The things we do outlast our mortality. The things we do are like monuments that people build to honor heroes after they've died. They're like the pyramids that the Egyptians built to honor the pharaohs. Only instead of being made out of stone, they're made out of the memories people have of you. That's why your deeds are like your monuments. Built with memories instead of with stone.

2022/9/15
01:32
[Part 1_August]C23——Jack Will

[Part 1_August]C23——Jack Will

Jack WillI hung out with Jack in homeroom, English, history, computer, music, and science, which were all the classes we had together. The teachers assigned seats in every class, and I ended up sitting next to Jack in every single class, so I figured either the teachers were told to put me and Jack together, or it was a totally incredible coincidence. I walked to classes with Jack, too. I know he noticed kids staring at me, but he pretended not to notice. One time, though, on our way to history, this huge eighth grader who was zooming down the stairs two steps at a time accidentally bumped into us at the bottom of the stairs and knocked me down. As the guy helped me stand up, he got a look at my face, and without even meaning to, he just said: "Whoa!" Then he patted me on the shoulder, like he was dusting me off, and took off after his friends. For some reason, me and Jack started cracking up. "That guy made the funniest face!" said Jack as we sat down at our desks. "I know, right?" I said. "He was like, whoa!" "I swear, I think he wet his pants!" We were laughing so hard that the teacher, Mr. Roche, had to ask us to settle down. Later, after we finished reading about how ancient Sumerians built sundials, Jack whispered: "Do you ever want to beat those kids up?" I shrugged. "I guess. I don't know." "I'd want to. I think you should get a secret squirt gun or something and attach it to your eyes somehow. And every time someone stares at you, you would squirt them in the face." "With some green slime or something," I answered. "No, no: with slug juice mixed with dog pee." "Yeah!" I said, completely agreeing. "Guys," said Mr. Roche from across the room. "People are still reading." We nodded and looked down at our books. Then Jack whispered: "Are you always going to look this way, August? I mean, can't you get plastic surgery or something?" I smiled and pointed to my face. "Hello? This is after plastic surgery!" Jack clapped his hand over his forehead and started laughing hysterically. "Dude, you should sue your doctor!" he answered between giggles. This time the two of us were laughing so much we couldn't stop, even after Mr. Roche came over and made us both switch chairs with the kids next to us.

2022/9/14
03:28
[Part 1_August]C22——Wake Me Up when September Ends

[Part 1_August]C22——Wake Me Up when September Ends

Wake Me Up when September EndsThe rest of September was hard. I wasn't used to getting up so early in the morning. I wasn't used to this whole notion of homework. And I got my first "quiz" at the end of the month. I never got "quizzes" when Mom homeschooled me. I also didn't like how I had no free time anymore. Before, I was able to play whenever I wanted to, but now it felt like I always had stuff to do for school. And being at school was awful in the beginning. Every new class I had was like a new chance for kids to "not stare" at me. They would sneak peeks at me from behind their notebooks or when they thought I wasn't looking. They would take the longest way around me to avoid bumping into me in any way, like I had some germ they could catch, like my face was contagious. In the hallways, which were always crowded, my face would always surprise some unsuspecting kid who maybe hadn't heard about me. The kid would make the sound you make when you hold your breath before going underwater, a little "uh!" sound.This happened maybe four or five times a day for the first few weeks: on the stairs, in front of the lockers, in the library. Five hundred kids in a school: eventually every one of them was going to see my face at some time. And I knew after the first couple of days that word had gotten around about me, because every once in a while I'd catch a kid elbowing his friend as they passed me, or talking behind their hands as I walked by them. I can only imagine what they were saying about me. Actually, I prefer not to even try to imagine it. I'm not saying they were doing any of these things in a mean way, by the way: not once did any kid laugh or make noises of do anything like that. They were just being normal dumb kids. I know that. I kind of wanted to tell them that. Like, it's okay, I know I'm weird-looking, take a look, I don't bite. Hey, the truth is, if a Wookiee started going to the school all of a sudden, I'd be curious, I'd probably stare a bit! And if I was walking with Jack or Summer, I'd probably whisper to them: Hey, there's the Wookiee. And if the Wookiee caught me saying that, he'd know I wasn't trying to be mean. I was just pointing out the fact that he's a Wookiee. It took about one week for the kids in my class to get used to my face. These were the kids I'd see every day in all my classes. It took about two weeks for the rest of the kids in my grade to get used to my face. These were the kids I'd see in the cafeteria, yard time, PE, music, library, computer class. It took about a month for the rest of the kids in the entire school to get used to it. These were the kids in all the other grades. They were big kids, some of them. Some of them had crazy haircuts. Some of them had earrings in their noses. Some of them had pimples. None of them looked like me.

2022/9/13
04:00
[Part 1_August]C21——Padawan

[Part 1_August]C21——Padawan

PadawanThat night I cut off the little braid on the back of my head. Dad noticed first. "Oh good," he said. "I never liked that thing." Via couldn't believe I had cut it off. "That took you years to grow!" she said, almost like she was angry. "Why did you cut it off?" " don't know," I answered. "Did someone make fun of it?" "No." "Did you tell Christopher you were cutting it off?" "We're not even friends anymore!" "That's not true," she said. "I can't believe you would just cut it off like that," she added snottily, and then practically slammed my bedroom door shut as she left the room. I was snuggling with Daisy on my bed when Dad came to tuck me in later. He scooched Daisy over gently and lay down next to me on the blanket. "So, Auggie Doggie," he said, "it was really an okay day?" He got that from an old cartoon about a dachshund named Auggie Doggie, by the way. He had bought it for me on eBay when I was about four, and we watched it a lot for a while especially in the hospital. He would call me Auggie Doggie and I would call him "dear ol' Dad," like the puppy called the dachshund dad on the show. "Yeah, it was totally okay," I said, nodding. "You've been so quiet all night long." "I guess I'm tired." "It was a long day, huh?" I nodded. "But it really was okay?" I nodded again. He didn't say anything, so after a few seconds, I said: "It was better than okay, actually." "That's great to heat, Auggie," he said quietly, kissing my forehead. "So it looks like it was a good call Mom made, your going to school." "Yeah. But I could stop going if I wanted to, right?" "That was the deal, yes," he answered. "Though I guess it would depend on why you wanted to stop going, too, you know. You'd have to let us know. You'd have to talk to us and tell us how you're feeling, and if anything bad was happening. Okay? You promise you'd tell us?" "Yeah." "So can I ask you something? Are you mad at Mom or something? You've been kind of huffy with her all night long. You know, Auggie, I'm as much to blame for sending you to school as she is. "No, she's more to blame. It was her idea." Mom knocked on the door just then and peeked her head inside my room. "Just wanted to say good night," she said. She looked kind of shy for a second. "Hi, Momma," Dad said, picking up my hand and waving it at her. "I heard you cut off your braid," Mom said to me, sitting down at the edge of the bed next to Daisy. "It's not a big deal," I answered quickly. "I didn't say it was," said Mom. "Why don't you put Auggie to bed tonight?" Dad said to Mom, getting up. "I've got some work to do anyway. Good night, my son, my son." That was another part of our Auggie Doggie routine, though I wasn't in the mood to say Good night, dear ol' Dad. "I'm so proud of you," said Dad, and then he got up out of the bed. Mom and Dad had always taken turns putting me to bed. I know it was a little babyish of me to still need them to do that, but that's just how it was with us. "Will you check in on Via?" Mom said to Dad as she lay down next to me. He stopped by the door and turned around. "What's wrong with Via?" "Nothing," said Mom, shrugging, "at least that she would tell me. But . . . first day of high school and all that." "Hmm," said Dad, and then he pointed his finger at me and winked. "It's always something with you kids, isn't it?" he said. "Never a dull moment," said Mom. "Never a dull moment," Dad repeated. "Good night, guys." As soon as he closed the door, Mom pulled out the book she'd been reading to me for the last couple of weeks. I was relieved because I really was afraid she'd want to "talk," and I just didn't feel like doing that. But Mom didn't seem to want to talk, either.She just flipped through the pages until she got to where we had left off. We were about halfway through The Hobbit. "Stop! stop!' shouted Thorin," said Mom, reading aloud, "but it was too late, the excited dwarves had wasted their last arrows, and now the bows that Beorn had given them were useless. "They were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days. They had crossed the enchanted Stream; but beyond it the path seemed to straggle on just as before, and in the forest they could see no change." I'm not sure why, but all of a sudden I started to cry. Mom put the book down and wrapped her arms around me. She didn't seem surprised that I was crying. "It's okay," she whispered in my ear. "It'll be okay." "I'm sorry," I said between sniffles. "Shh," she said, wiping my tears with the back of her hand. "You have nothing to be sorry about.." "Why do I have to be so ugly, Mommy?" I whispered. "No, baby, you're not…" "I know I am." She kissed me all over my face. She kissed my eyes that came down too far. She kissed my cheeks that looked punched in. She kissed my tortoise mouth. She said soft words that I know were meant to help me, but words can't change my face.

2022/9/12
06:59
[Part 1_August]C20——One to Ten

[Part 1_August]C20——One to Ten

One to TenMom always had this habit of asking me how something felt on a scale of one to ten. It started after I had my jaw surgery, when I couldn't talk because my mouth was wired shut. They had taken a piece of bone from my hip bone to insert into my chin to make it look more normal, so I was hurting in a lot of different places. Mom would point to one of my bandages, and I would hold up my fingers to show her how much it was hurting. One meant a little bit. Ten meant so, so, so much. Then she would tell the doctor when he made his rounds what needed adjusting or things like that. Mom got very good at reading my mind sometimes. After that, we got into the habit of doing the one-to-ten scale for anything that hurt, like if I just had a plain old sore throat, she'd ask: "One to ten?" And I'd say: "Three," or whatever it was. When school was over, I went outside to meet Mom, who was waiting for me at the front entrance like all the other parents or babysitters. The first thing she said after hugging me was: "So, how was it? One to ten?" "Five," I said, shrugging, which I could tell totally surprised her. "Wow," she said quietly, "that's even better than I hoped for." "Are we picking Via up?" "Miranda's mother is picking her up today. Do you want me to carry your backpack, sweetness?" We had started walking through the crowd of kids and parents, most of whom were noticing me, "secretly" pointing me out to each other. "I'm fine," I said. "It looks too heavy, Auggie." She started to take it from me. "Mom!" I said, pulling my backpack away from her. I walked in front of her through the crowd. "See you tomorrow, August!" It was Summer. She was walking in the opposite direction. "Bye, Summer," I said, waving at her. As soon as we crossed the street and were away from the crowd, Mom said: "Who was that, Auggie?" "Summer." "Is she in your class?" "I have lots of classes." "Is she in any of your classes?" Mom said. "I don't know." Mom waited for me to say something else, but I just didn't feel like talking. "So it went okay?" said Mom. I could tell she had a million questions she wanted to ask me. "Everyone was nice? Did you like your teachers?" "Yeah." "How about those kids you met last week? Were they nice?" "Fine, fine. Jack hung out with me a lot." "That's so great, sweetie. What about that boy Julian?" I thought about that Darth Sidious comment. By now it felt like that had happened a hundred years ago. "He was okay," I said. "And the blond girl, what was her name?" "Charlotte. Mom, I said everyone was nice already." "Okay," Mom answered. I honestly don't know why I was kind of mad at Mom, but I was. We crossed Amesfort Avenue, and she didn't say anything else until we turned onto our block. "So," Mom said. "How did you meet Summer if she wasn't in any of your classes?" "We sat together at lunch," I said. I had started kicking a rock between my feet like it was a soccer ball, chasing it back and forth across the sidewalk. "She seems very nice." "Yeah, she is." "She's very pretty," Mom said. "Yeah, I know," I answered. "We're kind of like Beauty and the Beast." I didn't wait to see Mom's reaction. I just started running down the sidewalk after the rock, which I had kicked as hard as I could in front of me.

2022/9/11
04:46
[Part 1_August]C19——The Summer Table

[Part 1_August]C19——The Summer Table

The Summer Table"Hey, is this seat taken?" I looked up, and a girl I never saw before was standing across from my table with a lunch tray full of food. She had long wavy brown hair, and wore a brown T-shirt with a purple peace sign on it. "Uh, no," I said. She put her lunch tray on the table, plopped her backpack on the floor, and sat down across from me. She started to eat the mac and cheese on her plate. "Ugh," she said after swallowing the first bite. "I should have brought a sandwich like you did." "Yeah," I said, nodding. "My name is Summer, by the way. What's yours?" "August." "Cool," she said. "Summer!" Another girl came over to the table carrying a tray. "Why are you sitting here? Come back to the table." "It was too crowded," Summer answered her. "Come sit here. There's more room." The other girl looked confused for a second. I realized she had been one of the girls I had caught looking at me just a few minutes earlier: hand cupped over her mouth, whispering. I guess Summer had been one of the girls at that table, too. "Never mind," said the girl, leaving. Summer looked at me, shrugged-smiled, and took another bite of her mac and cheese. "Hey, our names kind of match," she said as she chewed. I guess she could tell I didn't know what she meant. "Summer? August?" she said, smiling, her eyes open wide, as she waited for me to get it. "Oh, yeah," I said after a second. "We can make this the 'summer only lunch table," she said. "Only kids with summer names can sit here. Let's see, is there anyone here named June or July?" "There's a Maya," I said. "Technically, May is spring," Summer answered, "but if she wanted to sit here, we could make an exception." She said it as if she'd actually thought the whole thing through. "There's Julian. That's like the name Julia, which comes from July." I didn't say anything. "There's a kid named Reid in my English class," I said. "Yeah, I know Reid, but how is Reid a summer name?" she asked. "I don't know." I shrugged. "I just picture, like, a reed of grass being a summer thing." "Yeah, okay." She nodded, pulling out her notebook. "And Ms. Petosa could sit here, too. That kind of sounds like the word 'petal,' which I think of as a summer thing, too." "I have her for homeroom," I said. "I have her for math," she answered, making a face. She started writing the list of names on the second-to-last page of her notebook. "So, who else?" she said. By the end of lunch, we had come up with a whole list of names of kids and teachers who could sit at our table if they wanted. Most of the names weren't actually summer names, but they were names that had some kind of connection to summer. I even found a way of making Jack Will's name work by pointing out that you could turn his name into a sentence about summer, like "Jack will go to the beach," which Summer agreed worked fine. "But if someone doesn't have a summer name and wants to sit with us," she said very seriously, "we'll still let them if they're nice, okay?" "Okay." I nodded. "Even if it's a winter name." "Cool beans," she answered, giving me a thumbs-up. Summer looked like her name. She had a tan, and her eyes were green like a leaf.

2022/9/11
04:13
[Part 1_August]C18——Lunch

[Part 1_August]C18——Lunch

LunchVia had warned me about lunch in middle school, so I guess I should have known it would be hard. I just hadn't expected it to be this hard. Basically, all the kids from all the fifth-grade classes poured into the cafeteria at the same time, talking loudly and bumping into one another while they ran to different tables. One of the lunchroom teachers said something about no seat-saving allowed, but I didn't know what she meant and maybe no one else did, either, because just about everybody was saving seats for their friends. I tried to sit down at one table, but the kid in the next chair said, "Oh, sorry, but somebody else is sitting here." So I moved to an empty table and just waited for everyone to finish stampeding and the lunchroom teacher to tell us what to do next. As she started telling us the cafeteria rules, I looked around to see where Jack Will was sitting, but I didn't see him on my side of the room. Kids were still coming in as the teachers started calling the first few tables to get their trays and stand on line at the counter. Julian, Henry, and Miles were sitting at a table toward the back of the room. Mom had packed me a cheese sandwich, graham crackers, and a juice box, so I didn't need to stand on line when my table was called. Instead, I just concentrated on opening my backpack, pulling out my lunch bag, and slowly opening the aluminum-foil wrapping of my sandwich. I could tell I was being stared at without even looking up. I knew that people were nudging each other, watching me out of the corners of their eyes. I thought I was used to those kinds of stares by now, but I guess I wasn't. There was one table of girls that I knew were whispering about me because they were talking behind their hands. Their eyes and whispers kept bouncing over to me. I hate the way I eat. I know how weird it looks. I had a surgery to fix my cleft palate when I was a baby, and then a second cleft surgery when I was four, but I still have a hole in the roof of my mouth. And even though I had jaw-alignment surgery a few years ago, I have to chew food in the front of my mouth. I didn't even realize how this looked until I was at a birthday party once, and one of the kids told the mom of the birthday boy he didn't want to sit next to me because I was too messy with all the food crumbs shooting out of my mouth. I know the kid wasn't trying to be mean, but he got in big trouble later, and his mom called my mom that night to apologize. When I got home from the party, I went to the bathroom mirror and started eating a saltine cracker to see what I looked like when I was chewing. The kid was right. I eat like a tortoise, if you've ever seen a tortoise eating. Like some prehistoric swamp thing.

2022/9/9
03:48
[Part 1_August]C17——Choose Kind

[Part 1_August]C17——Choose Kind

Choose Kind There was a lot of shuffling around when the bell rang and everybody got up to leave. I checked my schedule and it said my next class was English, room 321. I didn't stop to see if anyone else from my homeroom was going my way: I just zoomed out of the class and down the hall and sat down as far from the front as possible. The teacher, a really tall man with a yellow beard, was writing on the chalkboard. Kids came in laughing and talking in little groups but I didn't look up. Basically, the same thing that happened in homeroom happened again: no one sat next to me except for Jack, who was joking around with some kids who weren't in our homeroom. I could tell Jack was the kind of kid other kids like. He had a lot of friends. He made people laugh. When the second bell rang, everyone got quiet and the teacher turned around and faced us. He said his name was Mr. Browne, and then he started talking about what we would be doing this semester. At a certain point, somewhere between A Wrinkle in Time and Shen of the Sea, he noticed me but kept right on talking. I was mostly doodling in my notebook while he talked, but every once in a while I would sneak a look at the other students. Charlotte was in this class. So were Julian and Henry. Miles wasn't. Mr. Browne had written on the chalkboard in big block letters: P-R-E-C-E-P-T! "Okay, everybody write this down at the very top of the very first page in your English notebook." As we did what he told us to do, he said: "Okay, so who can tell me what a precept is? Does anyone know?" No one raised their hands. Mr. Browne smiled, nodded, and turned around to write on the chalkboard again: PRECEPTS = RULES ABOUT REALLY IMPORTANT THINGS! "Like a motto?" someone called out. "Like a motto!" said Mr. Browne, nodding as he continued writing on the board. "Like a famous quote. Like a line from a fortune cookie. Any saying or ground rule that can motivate you. Basically, a precept is anything that helps guide us when making decisions about really important things. He wrote all that on the chalkboard and then turned around and faced us. "So, what are some really important things?" he asked us. A few kids raised their hands, and as he pointed at them, they gave their answers, which he wrote on the chalkboard in really, really sloppy handwriting: RULES. SCHOOLWORK. HOMEWORK. "What else?" he said as he wrote, not even turning around. "Just call things out!" He wrote everything everyone called out. FAMILY. PARENTS. PETS. One girl called out: "The environment!" THE ENVIRONMENT, he wrote on the chalkboard, and added: OUR WORLD! "Sharks, because they eat dead things in the ocean!" said one of the boys, a kid named Reid, and Mr. Browne wrote down SHARKS. "Bees!" "Seatbelts!" "Recycling!" "Friends!" "Okay," said Mr. Browne, writing all those things down. He turned around when he finished writing to face us again. "But no one's named the most important thing of all." We all looked at him, out of ideas. "God?" said one kid, and I could tell that even though Mr.Browne wrote "God" down, that wasn't the answer he was looking for. Without saying anything else, he wrote down: WHO WE ARE! "Who we are," he said, underlining each word as he said it. "Who we are! Us! Right? What kind of people are we? What kind of person are you? Isn't that the most important thing of all? Isn't that the kind of question we should be asking ourselves all the time? "What kind of person am I? "Did anyone happen to notice the plaque next to the door of this school? Anyone read what it says? Anyone?" He looked around but no one knew the answer. "It says: 'Know Thyself,'" he said, smiling and nodding. "And learning who you are is what you're here to do." "I thought we were here to learn English," Jack cracked, which made everyone laugh. "Oh yeah, and that, too!" Mr. Browne answered, which I thought was very cool of him. He turned around and wrote in big huge block letters that spread all the way across the chalkboard: MR. BROWNE'S SEPTEMBER PRECEPT: WHEN GIVEN THE CHOICE BETWEEN BEING RIGHT OR BEING KIND, CHOOSE KIND. "Okay, so, everybody," he said, facing us again, "I want you to start a brand-new section in your notebooks and call it Mr.Browne's Precepts." He kept talking as we did what he was telling us to do. "Put today's date at the top of the first page. And from now on, at the beginning of every month, I'm going to write a new Mr. Browne precept on the chalkboard and you're going to write it down in your notebook. Then we're going to discuss that precept and what it means. And at the end of the month, you're going to write an essay about it, about what it means to you. So by the end of the year, you'll all have your own list of precepts to take away with you. "Over the summer, I ask all my students to come up with their very own personal precept, write it on a postcard, and mail it to me from wherever you go on your summer vacation." "People really do that?" said one girl whose name I didn't know. "Oh yeah!" he answered, "people really do that. I've had students send me new precepts years after they've graduated from this school, actually. It's pretty amazing." He paused and stroked his beard. "But, anyway, next summer seems like a long way off, I know," he joked, which made us laugh. "So, everybody relax a bit while I take attendance, and then when we're finished with that, I'll start telling you about all the fun stuff we're going to be doing this year--in English." He pointed to lack when he said this, which was also funny, so we all laughed at that. As I wrote down Mr. Browne's September precept, I suddenly realized that I was going to like school. No matter what.

2022/9/8
08:17
[Part 1_August]C16——Lamb to the Slaughter

[Part 1_August]C16——Lamb to the Slaughter

Lamb to the Slaughter "Like a lamb to the slaughter": Something that you say about someone who goes somewhere calmly, not knowing that something unbleasant is going to happen to them. I Googled it last night. That's what I was thinking when Ms.Petosa called my name and suddenly it was my turn to talk. "My name is August," I said, and yeah, I kind of mumbled it. "What?" said someone. "Can vou speak up, honey?" said Ms. Petosa. "My name is August," I said louder, forcing myself to look up. "I, um . .. have a sister named Via and a dog named Daisy. And, um... that's it." "Wonderful." said Ms. Petosa. "Anyone have questions for August?" No one said anything. "Okay, you're next," said Ms. Petosa to Jack. "Wait, I have a question for August," said Julian, raising his hand. "Why do you have that tiny braid in the back of your hair? Is that like a Padawan thing?" "Yeah." I shrug-nodded. "What's a Padawan thing?" said Ms. Petosa, smiling at me. "It's from Star Wars," answered Julian. "A Padawan is a Jedi apprentice." "Oh, interesting," answered Ms. Petosa, looking at me. "So, are you into Star Wars, August?" "I guess." I nodded, not looking up because what I really wanted was to just slide under the desk. "Who's your favorite character?" Julian asked. I started thinking maybe he wasn't so bad. "Jango Fett." "What about Darth Sidious?" he said. "Do you like him?" "Okay, guys, you can talk about Star Wars stuff at recess," said Ms. Petosa cheerfully. "But let's keep going. We haven't heard from you yet," she said to Jack. Now it was Jack's turn to talk, but I admit I didn't hear a word he said. Maybe no one got the Darth Sidious thing, and mavbe Julian didn't mean anything at all. But in Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Darth Sidious's face gets burned by Sith lightning and becomes totally deformed. His skin gets all shriveled up and his whole face just kind of melts.I peeked at Julian and he was looking at me. Yeah, he knew what he was saying.

2022/9/7
02:59
[Part 1_August]C15——Around the Room

[Part 1_August]C15——Around the Room

Around the Room Ms. Petosa told us a little about who she was. It was boring stuff about where she originally came from, and how she always wanted to teach, and she left her job on Wall Street about six years ago to pursue her "dream" and teach kids. She ended by asking if anyone had any questions, and Julian raised his hand. "Yes..." She had to look at the list to remember his name. "Julian." "That's cool about how you're pursuing your dream," he said. "Thank you!" "You're welcome!" He smiled proudly. "Okay, so why don't you tell us a little about yourself, Julian? Actually, here's what I want everyone to do. Think of two things you want other people to know about you. Actually, wait a minute: how many of you came from the Beecher lower school?" About half the kids raised their hands. "Okay, so a few of you already know each other. But the rest of you, I guess, are new to the school, right? Okay, so everyone think of two things you want other people to know about you-and if you know some of the other kids, try to think of things they don't already know about you. Okay? Okay. So let's start with lulian and we'll go around the room." Julian scrunched up his face and started tapping his forehead like he was thinking really hard. "Okay, whenever you're ready," Ms. Petosa said. "Okay, so number one is that—" "Do me a favor and start with your names, okay?" Ms.Petosa interrupted. "It'll help me remember everyone." "Oh, okay. So my name is Julian. And the number one thing I'd like to tell everyone about myself is that . . . I just got Battleground Mystic for my Wii and it's totally awesome. And the number two thing is that we got a Ping-Pong table this summer." "Very nice, I love Ping-Pong," said Ms. Petosa. "Does anyone have any questions for Julian?" "Is Battleground Mystic multiplayer or one player?" said the kid named Miles. "Not those kinds of questions, guys," said Ms. Petosa. "Okay, so how about you... " She pointed to Charlotte, probably because her desk was closest to the front. "Oh, sure." Charlotte didn't hesitate for even a second, like she knew exactly what she wanted to say. "My name is Charlotte. I have two sisters, and we just got a new puppy named Suki in July. We got her from an animal shelter and she's so, so cute!" "That's great, Charlotte, thank you," said Ms. Petosa. "Okay, then, who's next?"

2022/9/6
03:30
[Part 1_August]C14——Locks

[Part 1_August]C14——Locks

LocksI went straight to room 301 on the third floor. Now I was glad id gone on that little tour, because I knew exactly where to go and didn't have to look up once. I noticed that some kids were definitely staring at me now. I did my thing of pretending not tonotice. I went inside the classroom, and the teacher was writing on the chalkboard while all the kids started sitting at different desks. The desks were in a half circle facing the chalkboard, so I chose the desk in the middle toward the back, which I thought would make it harder for anyone to stare at me. I still kept my head way down, just looking up enough from under my bangs to see everyone's feet. As the desks started to fill up, I did notice that no one sat down next to me. A couple of times someone was about to sit next to me, then changed his or her mind at the last minute and sat somewhere else. "Hey, August." It was Charlotte, giving me her little wave as she sat down at a desk in the front of the class. Why anyone would ever choose to sit way up front in a class, I don't know. "Hey," I said, nodding hello. Then I noticed Julian was sitting a few seats away from her, talking to some other kids. I know he saw me, but he didn't say hello. Suddenly someone was sitting down next to me. It was Jack Will. Jack. "What's up," he said, nodding at me. "Hey, Jack," I answered, waving my hand, which I immediately wished I hadn't done because it felt kind of uncool. "Okay, kids, okay, everybody! Settle down," said the teacher, now facing us. She had written her name, Ms. Petosa, on the chalkboard. "Everybody find a seat, please. Come in," she said to a couple of kids who had just walked in the room. "There's a seat there, and right there." She hadn't noticed me yet. "Now, the first thing I want everyone to do is stop talking and . .She noticed me. "…put your backpacks down and quiet down." She had only hesitated for a millionth of a second, but I could tell the moment she saw me. Like I said: I'm used to it by now. "I'm going to take attendance and do the seating chart," she continued, sitting on the edge of her desk. Next to her were three neat rows of accordion folders. "When I call your name, come up and I'll hand you a folder with your name on it. It contains your class schedule and your combination lock, which you should not try to open until I tell you to. Your locker number is written on the class schedule. Be forewarned that some lockers are not right outside this class but down the hall, and before anyone even thinks of asking: no, you cannot switch lockers and you can't switch locks. Then if there's time at the end of this period, we're all going to get to know each other a little better, okay? Okay." She picked up the clipboard on her desk and started reading the names out loud. "Okay, so, Julian Albans?" she said, looking up. Julian raised his hand and said "Here" at the same time. "Hi, Julian," she said, making a note on her seating chart. She picked up the very first folder and held it out toward him. "Come pick it up," she said, kind of no-nonsense. He got up and took it from her. "Ximena Chin?" She handed a folder to each kid as she read off the names. As she went down the list, I noticed that the seat next to me was the only one still empty, even though there were two kids sitting at one desk just a few seats away. When she called the name of one of them, a big kid named Henry Joplin who already looked like a teenager, she said: "Henry, there's an empty desk right over there. Why don't you take that seat, okay?" She handed him his folder and pointed to the desk next to mine. Although I didn't look at him directly, I could tell Henry did not want to move next to me, just by the way he dragged his backpack on the floor as he came over, like he was moving in slow motion. Then he plopped his backpack up really high on the right side of the desk so it was kind of like a wall between his desk and mine. "Maya Markowitz?" Ms. Petosa was saying. "Here," said a girl about four desks down from me. "Miles Noury?" "Here," said the kid that had been sitting with Henry Joplin. As he walked back to his desk, I saw him shoot Henry a "poor you" look. "August Pullman?" said Ms. Petosa. "Here," I said quietly, raising my hand a bit. "Hi, August," she said, smiling at me very nicely when I went up to get my folder. I kind of felt everyone's eyes burning into my back for the few seconds I stood in the front of the class, and everybody looked down when I walked back to my desk. I resisted spinning the combination when I sat down, even though everyone else was doing it, because she had specifically told us not to. I was already pretty good at opening locks, anyway, because I've used them on my bike. Henry kept trying to open his lock but couldn't do it. He was getting frustrated and kind of cursing under his breath. Ms. Petosa called out the next few names. The last name was Jack Will. After she handed Jack his folder, she said: "Okay, so, everybody write your combinations down somewhere safe that you won't forget, okay? But if you do forget, which happens at least three point two times per semester, Mrs. Garcia has a list of all the combination numbers. Now go ahead, take your locks out of your folders and spend a couple of minutes practicing how to open them, though I know some of you went ahead and did that anyway." She was looking at Henry when she said that. "And in the meanwhile, I'lI tell you guys a little something about myself. And then you guys can tell me a little about yourselves and we'll, um, get to know each other. Sound good? Good." She smiled at everyone, though I felt like she was smiling at me the most. It wasn't a shiny smile, like Mrs. Garcia's smile, but a normal smile, like she meant it. She looked very different from what I thought teachers were going to look like. I guess I thought she'd look like Miss Fowl from Jimmy Neutron: an old lady with a big bun on top of her head. But, in fact, she looked exactly like Mon Mothma from Star Wars Episode VI: haircut kind of like a boy's, and a big white shirt kind of like a tunic. She turned around and started writing on the chalkboard. Henry still couldn't get his lock to open, and he was getting more and more frustrated every time someone else popped one open. He got really annoyed when I was able to open mine on the first try. The funny thing is, if he hadn't put the backpack between us, I most definitely would have offered to help him.

2022/9/6
09:01
[Part 1_August]C13——First-Day Jitters

[Part 1_August]C13——First-Day Jitters

First-Day JittersOkay, so I admit that the first day of school I was so nervous that the butterflies in my stomach were more like pigeons flying around my insides. Mom and Dad were probably a little nervous, too, but they acted all excited for me, taking pictures of me and Via before we left the house since it was Via's first day of school, too. Up until a few days before, we still weren't sure I would be going to school at all. After my tour of the school, Mom and Dad had reversed sides on whether I should go or not. Mom was now the one saying I shouldn't go and Dad was saying I should. Dad had told me he was really proud of how I'd handled myself with Julian and that I was turning into quite the strong man. And I heard him tell Mom that he now thought she had been right all along. But Mom, I could tell, wasn't so sure anymore. When Dad told her that he and Via wanted to walk me to school today, too, since it was on the way to the subway station, Mom seemed relieved that we would all be going together. And I guess I was, too. Even though Beecher Prep is just a few blocks from our house, I've only been on that block a couple of times before. In general, I try to avoid blocks where there are lots of kids roaming around.On our block, everybody knows me and I know everybody. I know every brick and every tree trunk and every crack in the sidewalk. I know Mrs. Grimaldi, the lady who's always sitting by her window, and the old guy who walks up and down the street whistling like a bird. I know the deli on the corner where Mom gets our bagels, and the waitresses at the coffee shop who all call me "honey" and give me lollipops whenever they see me. I love my neighborhood of North River Heights, which is why it was so strange to be walking down these blocks feeling like it was all new to me suddenly. Amesfort Avenue, a street I've been down a million times, looked totally different for some reason. Full of people I never saw before, waiting for buses, pushing strollers. We crossed Amesfort and turned up Heights Place: Via walked next to me like she usually does, and Mom and Dad were behind us. As soon as we turned the corner, we saw all the kids in front of the school—hundreds of them talking to each other in little groups, laughing, or standing with their parents, who were talking with other parents. I kept my head way down. "Everyone's just as nervous as you are," said Via in my ear. "Just remember that this is everyone's first day of school. Okay?" Mr. Tushman was greeting students and parents in front of the school entrance. I have to admit: so far, nothing bad had happened. I didn't catch anyone staring or even noticing me. Only once did I look up to see some girls looking my way and whispering with their hands cupped over their mouths, but they looked away when they saw me notice them. We reached the front entrance. "Okay, so this is it, big boy," said Dad, putting his hands on top of my shoulders. "Have a great first day. I love you," said Via, giving me a big kiss and a hug. "You, too," I said. "I love you, Auggie," said Dad, hugging me. "Bye." Then Mom hugged me, but I could tell she was about to cry, which would have totally embarrassed me, so I just gave her a fast hard hug, turned, and disappeared into the school.

2022/9/4
04:48
[Part 1_August]C12——Home

[Part 1_August]C12——Home

HomeAs soon as we had walked at least half a block from the school, Mom said: "So . .. how'd it go? Did you like it?" "Not yet, Mom. When we get home," I said. The moment we got inside the house, I ran to my room and threw myself onto my bed. I could tell Mom didn't know what was up, and I guess I really didn't, either. I felt very sad and a tiny bit happy at the exact same time, kind of like that laughing-crying feeling all over again. My dog, Daisy, followed me into the room, jumped on the bed, and started licking me all over my face. "Who's a good girlie?" I said in my Dad voice. "Who's a good girlie?" "Is everything okay, sweetness?" Mom said. She wanted to sit down beside me but Daisy was hogging the bed. "Excuse me, Daisy." She sat down, nudging Daisy over. "Were those kids not nice to you, Auggie?" "Oh no," I said, only half lying. "They were okay." "But were they nice? Mr. Tushman went out of his way to tell me what sweet kids they are." "Uh-huh." I nodded, but I kept looking at Daisy, kissing her on the nose and rubbing her ear until her back leg did that little flea-scratch shake. "That boy Julian seemed especially nice," Mom said. "Oh, no, he was the least nice. I liked Jack, though. He was nice. I thought his name was lack Will but it's iust lack." "Wait, maybe I'm getting them confused. Which one was the one with the dark hair that was brushed forward?" "Julian." "And he wasn't nice?" "No, not nice." "Oh." She thought about this for a second. "Okay, so is he the kind of kid who's one way in front of grown-ups and another way in front of kids?" "Yeah, I guess." "Ah, hate those," she answered, nodding. "He was like, 'So, August, what's the deal with your face?’" I said, looking at Daisy the whole time. "Were you in a fire or something?"" Mom didn't say anything. When I looked up at her, I could tell she was completely shocked. "He didn't say it in a mean way," I said quickly. "He was just asking." Mom nodded. "But I really liked Jack," I said. "He was like, 'Shut up, Julian!' And Charlotte was like, 'You're so rude, Julian!'" Mom nodded again. She pressed her fingers on her forehead like she was pushing against a headache. "I'm so sorry, Auggie," she said quietly. Her cheeks were bright red. "No, it's okay, Mom, really." "You don't have to go to school if you don't want, sweetie." "I want to," I said. "Auggie .. " "Really, Mom. I want to." And I wasn't lying.

2022/9/3
03:39
[Part 1_August]C11——The Deal

[Part 1_August]C11——The Deal

The DealMom and Mr. Tushman were talking when we got back to the office. Mrs. Garcia was the first to see us come back, and she started smiling her shiny smile as we walked in. "So, August, what did you think? Did you like what you saw?" she asked. "Yeah." I nodded, looking over at Mom. Jack, Julian, and Charlotte were standing by the door, not sure where to go or if they were still needed. I wondered what else they'd been told about me before they'd met me. "Did you see the baby chick?" Mom asked me. As I shook my head, Julian said: "Are you talking about the baby chicks in science? Those get donated to a farm at the end of every school year." "Oh, said Mom, disappointed. "But they hatch new ones every year in science," Julian added. "So August will be able to see them again in the spring." "Oh, good," said Mom, eyeing me. "They were so cute, August." I wished she wouldn't talk to me like I was a baby in front of other people. "So, August," said Mr. Tushman, "did these guys show you around enough or do you want to see more? I realize I forgot to ask them to show you the gym." "We did anyway, Mr. Tushman," said Julian. "Excellent!" said Mr. Tushman. "And I told him about the school play and some of the electives," said Charlotte. "Oh no!" she said suddenly. "We forgot to show him the art room!" "That's okay," said Mr. Tushman. "But we can show it to him now," Charlotte offered. "Don't we have to pick Via up soon?" I said to Mom. That was our signal for my telling Mom if I really wanted to leave. "Oh, you're right," said Mom, getting up. I could tell she was pretending to check the time on her watch. "I'm sorry, everybody. I lost track of the time. We have to go pick up my daughter at her new school. She's taking an unofficial tour today." This part wasn't a lie: that Via was checking out her new school today.The part that was a lie was that we were picking her up at the school, which we weren't. She was coming home with Dad later. "Where does she go to school?" asked Mr. Tushman, getting up. "She's starting Faulkner High School this fall." "Wow, that's not an easy school to get into. Good for her!" "Thank you," said Mom, nodding. "It'll be a bit of a schlep, though. The A train down to Eighty-Sixth, then the crosstown bus all the way to the East Side. Takes an hour that way but it's just a fifteen-minute drive." "It'll be worth it. I know a couple of kids who got into Faulkner and love it," said Mr. Tushman. "We should really go, Mom," I said, tugging at her pocketbook. We said goodbye kind of quickly after that. I think Mr.Tushman was a little surprised that we were leaving so suddenly, and then I wondered if he would blame Jack and Charlotte, even though it was really only Julian who made me feel kind of bad. "Everyone was really nice," I made sure to tell Mr. Tushman before we left. "I look forward to having you as a student," said Mr. Tushman, patting my back. "Bye," I said to Jack, Charlotte, and Julian, but I didn't look at them--or look up at all--until I left the building.

2022/9/2
04:27
[Part 1_August]C10——The Performance Space

[Part 1_August]C10——The Performance Space

The Performance SpaceCharlotte basically didn't stop talking as we headed down to the second floor. She was describing the play they had put on last yeat, which was OLIVER!She played Oliver even though she's a girl. As she said this, she pushed open the double doors to a huge auditorium. At the other end of the room was a stage. Charlotte started skipping toward the stage. Julian ran after her, and then turned around halfway down the aisle. "Come on!" he said loudly, waving for me to follow him, which I did. "There were like hundreds of people in the audience that night," said Charlotte, and it took me a second to realize she was still talking about OLIVER! "I was so, so nervous. I had so many lines, and I had all these songs to sing. It was so, so, so, so hard!" Although she was talking to me, she really didn't look at me much. "On opening night, my parents were all the way in back of the auditorium, like where Jack is right now, but when the lights are off, you can't really see that far back. So I was like, 'Where are my parents? Where are my parents?' And then Mr. Resnick, our theater-arts teacher last year- he said:"Charlotte, stop being such a diva!' And I was like, 'Okay!' And then I spotted my parents and I was totally fine. I didn't forget a single line." While she was talking, I noticed Julian staring at me out of the corner of his eye. This is something I see people do a lot with me. They think I don't know they're staring, but I can tell from the way their heads are tilted. I turned around to see where Jack had gone to. He had stayed in the back of the auditorium, like he was bored. "We put on a play every year," said Charlotte. "I don't think he's going to want to be in the school play, Charlotte," said Julian sarcastically. "You can be in the play without actually being 'in' the play," Charlotte answered, looking at me. "You can do the lighting. You can paint the backdrops." "Oh yeah, whoopee," said Julian, twirling his finger in the air. "But you don't have to take the theater-arts elective if you don't want to," Charlotte said, shrugging. "There's dance or Chorus or band. There’s leadership." "Only dorks take leadership,"Julian interrupted. "Julian, you're being so obnoxious!" said Charlotte, which made Julian laugh. "I'm taking the science elective," I said. "Cool!" said Charlotte. Julian looked directly at me. "The science elective is supposably the hardest elective of all," he said. "No offense, but if you've never, ever been in a school before, why do you think you're suddenly going to be smart enough to take the science elective? I mean, have you ever even studied science before? Like real science, not like the kind you do in kits?" "Yeah." I nodded. "He was homeschooled, Julian!" said Charlotte. "So teachers came to his house?" asked Julian, looking puzzled. "No, his mother taught him!" answered Charlotte. "Is she a teacher?" Julian said. "Is your mother a teacher?" Charlotte asked me. "No," I said. "So she's not a real teacher!" said Julian, as if that proved his point. "That's what I mean. How can someone who's not a real teacher actually teach science?" "I'm sure you'll do fine," said Charlotte, looking at me. "Let's just go to the library now," Jack called out, sounding really bored. "Why is your hair so long?" Julian said to me. He sounded like he was annoyed. I didn't know what to say, so I just shrugged. "Can I ask you a question?" he said. I shrugged again. Didn't he just ask me a question? "What's the deal with your face? I mean, were you in a fire or something?" "Julian, that's so rude!" said Charlotte. "I'm not being rude," said Julian, "I'm just asking a question. Mr. Tushman said we could ask questions if we wanted to." "Not rude questions like that." said Charlotte. "Besides, he was born like that. That's what Mr. Tushman said. You just weren't listening." "I was so listening!" said Julian. "I just thought maybe he was in a fire, too." "Geez, Julian," said Jack. "Just shut up." "You shut up!" Julian yelled. "Come on, August," said Jack. "Let's just go to the library already." I walked toward lack and followed him out of the auditorium. He held the double doors open for me, and as I passed by, he looked at me right in the face, kind of daring me to look back at him, which I did. Then I actually smiled. I don't know. Sometimes when I have the feeling like I'm almost crying, it can turn into an almost-laughing feeling. And that must have been the feeling I was having then, because I smiled, almost like I was going to giggle. The thing is, because of the way my face is, people who don't know me very well don't always get that I'm smiling. My mouth doesn't go up at the corners the way other people's mouths do. It just goes straight across my face. But somehow Jack Will got that I had smiled at him. And he smiled back. "Julian's a jerk," he whispered before Julian and Charlotte reached us. "But, dude, you're gonna have to talk." He said this seriously, like he was trying to help me. I nodded as Julian and Charlotte caught up to us. We were all quiet for a second, all of us just kind of nodding, looking at the floor. Then I looked up at Julian. "The word's 'supposedly,' by the way," I said. "What are you talking about?" "You said 'supposably’ before," I said. "I did not!" "Yeah you did." Charlotte nodded. "You said the science elective is supposably really hard. I heard you." "I absolutely did not," he insisted. "Whatever," said Jack. "Let's just go." "Yeah, let's just go," agreed Charlotte, following Jack down the stairs to the next floor. I started to follow her, but Julian cut right in front of me, which actually made me stumble backward. "Oops, sorry about that!" said Julian. But I could tell from the way he looked at me that he wasn't really sorry at all.

2022/9/2
08:38
[Part 1_August]C9——The Grand Tour

[Part 1_August]C9——The Grand Tour

The Grand TourJack Will, Julian, Charlotte, and I went down a big hallway to some wide stairs. No one said a word as we walked up to the third floor. When we got to the top of the stairs, we went down a little hallway full of lots of doors. Julian opened the door marked 301. "This is our homeroom," he said, standing in front of the half-opened door. "We have Ms. Petosa. They say she's okay, at least for homeroom. I heard she's really strict if you get her for math, though." "That's not true," said Charlotte. "My sister had her last year and said she's totally nice." "Not what I heard," answered Julian, "but whatever." He closed the door and continued walking down the hallway. "This is the science lab," he said when he got to the next door. And just like he did two seconds ago, he stood in front of the half-opened door and started talking. He didn't look at me once while he talked, which was okay because I wasn't looking at him, either. "You won't know who you have for science until the first day of school, but you want to get Mr. Haller. He used to be in the lower school. He would play this giant tuba in class." "It was a baritone horn," said Charlotte. "It was a tuba!" answered Julian, closing the door. "Dude, let him go inside so he can check it out," Jack Will told him, pushing past Julian and opening the door. "Go inside if you want," Julian said. It was the first time he looked at me. I shrugged and walked over to the door. Julian moved out of the way quickly, like he was afraid I might accidentally touch him as I passed by him. "Nothing much to see," Julian said, walking in after me. He started pointing to a bunch of stuff around the room. "That's the incubator. That big black thing is the chalkboard. These are the desks. These are chairs. Those are the Bunsen burners. This is a gross science poster. This is chalk. This is the eraser." "I'm sure he knows what an eraser is," Charlotte said, sounding a little like Via. "How would I know what he knows?" Julian answered. "Mr.Tushman said he's never been to a school before." "You know what an eraser is, right?" Charlotte asked me. I admit I was feeling so nervous that I didn't know what to say or do except look at the floor. "Hey, can you talk?" asked Jack Will. "Yeah." I nodded. I still really hadn't looked at any of them yet, not directly. "You know what an eraser is, right?" asked Jack Will. "Of course!" I mumbled. "I told you there was nothing to see in here," said Julian, shrugging. "I have a question ...," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Um. What exactly is homeroom? Is that like a subject?" "No, that's just your group," explained Charlotte, ignoring Julian's smirk. "It's like where you go when you get to school in the morning and your homeroom teacher takes attendance and stuff like that. In a way, it's your main class even though it's not really a class. I mean, it's a class, but—" "I think he gets it, Charlotte," said Jack Will. "Do you get it?" Charlotte asked me. "Yeah." I nodded at her. "Okay, let's get out of here," said Jack Will, walking away. "Wait, Jack, we're supposed to be answering questions," said Charlotte. Jack Will rolled his eyes a little as he turned around. "Do you have any more questions?" he asked. "Um, no," I answered. "Oh, well, actually, yes. Is your name Jack or Jack Will?" "Jack is my first name. Will is my last name." "Oh, because Mr. Tushman introduced you as Jack Will, so I thought . . ." "Ha! You thought his name was Jackwill!" laughed Julian. "Yeah, some people call me by my first and last name," Jack said, shrugging. "I don't know why. Anyway, can we go now?" "Let's go to the performance space next," said Charlotte, leading the way out of the science room. "It's very cool. You'll like it, August."

2022/9/1
05:17
[Part 1_August]C8——Jack Will, Julian, and Charlotte

[Part 1_August]C8——Jack Will, Julian, and Charlotte

Jack Will, Julian, and CharlotteWe followed Mr. Tushman into a small room across from Mrs.Garcia's desk. He was talking as he closed the door to his office and sat down behind his big desk, though I wasn't really paying much attention to what he was saying. I was looking around at all the things on his desk. Cool stuff, like a globe that floated in the air and a Rubik's-type cube made with little mirrors. I liked his office a lot. I liked that there were all these neat little drawings and paintings by students on the walls, framed like they were important. Mom sat down in a chair in front of Mr. Tushman's desk, and even though there was another chair right next to hers, I decided to stand beside her. "Why do you have your own room and Mrs. G doesn't?" I said. "You mean, why do I have an office?" asked Mr. Tushman. "You said she runs the place," I said. "Oh! Well, I was kind of kidding. Mrs. G is my assistant." "Mr. Tushman is the director of the middle school," Mom explained. "Do they call you Mr. T?" I asked, which made him smile. "Do you know who Mr. T is?" he answered. "I pity the fool?" he said in a funny tough voice, like he was imitating someone. I had no idea what he was talking about. "Anyway, no," said Mr. Tushman, shaking his head. "No one calls me Mr. T. Though I have a feeling I'm called a lot of other things I don't know about. Let's face it, a name like mine is not so easy to live with, you know what I mean?" Here I have to admit I totally laughed, because I knew exactly what he meant. "My mom and dad had a teacher called Miss Butt," I said. "Auggie!" said Mom, but Mr. Tushman laughed. "Now, that's bad," said Mr. Tushman, shaking his head. "I guess I shouldn't complain. Hey, so listen, August, here's what I thought we would do today. .. "Is that a pumpkin?" I said, pointing to a framed painting behind Mr. Tushman's desk. "Auggie, sweetie, don't interrupt," said Mom. "You like it?" said Mr. Tushman, turning around and looking at the painting. "I do, too. And I thought it was a pumpkin, too, until the student who gave it to me explained that it is actually not a pumpkin. It is ... are you ready for this . . . a portrait of me! Now, August, I ask you: do I really look that much like a pumpkin?" "No!" I answered, though I was thinking yes. Something about the way his cheeks puffed out when he smiled made him look like a jack-o'-lantern. Just as I thought that, it occurred to me how funny that was: cheeks, Mr. Tushman. And I started laughing a little. I shook my head and covered my mouth with my hand. Mr. Tushman smiled like he could read my mind. I was about to say something else, but then all of a sudden I heard other voices outside the office: kids' voices. I'm not exaggerating when I say this, but my heart literally started beating like I'd just run the longest race in the world. The laughter I had inside just poured out of me. The thing is, when I was little, I never minded meeting new kids because all the kids I met were really little, too. What's cool about really little kids is that they don't say stuff to try to hurt your feelings, even though sometimes they do say stuff that hurts your feelings. But they don't actually know what they're saying. Big kids, though: they know what they're saying. And that is definitely not fun for me. One of the reasons I grew my hair long last year was that I like how my bangs cover my eyes: it helps me block out the things I don't want to see. Mrs. Garcia knocked on the door and poked her head inside. "They're here, Mr. Tushman," she said. "Who's here?" I said. "Thanks," said Mr. Tushman to Mrs. Garcia. "August, I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet some students who'll be in your homeroom this year. I figure they could take you around the school a bit, show you the lay of the land, so to speak." "I don't want to meet anyone," I said to Mom. Mr. Tushman was suddenly right in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. He leaned down and said very softly in my ear: "It'll be okay, August. These are nice kids, I promise." "You're going to be okay, Auggie," Mom whispered with all her might. Before she could say anything else, Mr. Tushman opened the door to his office. "Come on in, kids," he said, and in walked two boys and a girl. None of them looked over at me or Mom: they stood by the door looking straight at Mr. Tushman like their lives depended on it. "Thanks so much for coming, guys—especially since school doesn't start until next month!" said Mr. Tushman. "Have you had a good summer?" All of them nodded but no one said anything. "Great, great," said Mr. Tushman. "So, guys, I wanted you to meet August, who's going to be a new student here this year. August, these guys have been students at Beecher Prep since kindergarten, though, of course, they were in the lower-school building, but they know all the ins and outs of the middle-school program. And since you're all in the same homeroom, I thought it would be nice if you got to know each other a little before school started. Okay? So, kids, this is August. August, this is Jack Will." Jack Will looked at me and put out his hand. When I shook it, he kind of half smiled and said: "Hey," and looked down really fast. "This is Julian," said Mr. Tushman. "Hey," said Julian, and did the same exact thing as Jack Will: took my hand, forced a smile, looked down fast. "And Charlotte." said Mr. Tushman. Charlotte had the blondest hair I've ever seen. She didn't shake my hand but gave me a quick little wave and smiled. "Hi, August. Nice to meet you," she said. "Hi," I said, looking down. She was wearing bright green Crocs. "So," said Mr. Tushman, putting his hands together in a kind of slow clap. "What I thought you guys could do is take August on a little tour of the school. Maybe you could start on the third floor? That's where your homeroom class is going to be: room301. I think. Mrs.G, is—" "Room 301!" Mrs. Garcia called out from the other room. "Room 301." Mr. Tushman nodded. "And then vou can show August the science labs and the computer room. Then work your way down to the library and the performance space on the second floor. Take him to the cafeteria, of course." "Should we take him to the music room?" asked Julian. "Good idea, yes," said Mr. Tushman. "August, do you play any instruments?" "No," I said. It wasn't my favorite subject on account of the fact that I don't really have ears. Well, I do, but they don't exactly look like normal ears. "Well, you may enjoy seeing the music room anyway," said Mr. Tushman. "We have a very nice selection of percussion instruments." "August, you've been wanting to learn to play the drums," Mom said, trying to get me to look at her. But my eyes were covered by my bangs as I stared at a piece of old gum that was stuck to the bottom of Mr. Tushman's desk. "Great! Okay, so why don't you guys get going?" said Mr.Tushman. "Just be back here in . . ." He looked at Mom. "Half an hour, okay?" I think Mom nodded. "So, is that okay with you, August?" he asked me. I didn't answer. "Is that okay, August?" Mom repeated. I looked at her now. I wanted her to see how mad I was at her. But then I saw her face and just nodded. She seemed more scared than I was. The other kids had started out the door, so I followed them. "See you soon," said Mom, her voice sounding a little higher than normal. I didn't answer her.

2022/9/1
11:02
[Part 1_August]C7——Nice Mrs.Garcia

[Part 1_August]C7——Nice Mrs.Garcia

Nice Mrs.GarciaWe followed Mr. Tushman down a few hallways. There weren't a lot of people around. And the few people who were there didn't seem to notice me at all, though that may have been because they didn't see me. I sort of hid behind Mom as I walked. I know that sounds kind of babyish of me, but I wasn't feeling very brave right then. We ended up in a small room with the words OFFICE OF THE MIDDLE SCHOOL DIRECTOR on the door. Inside, there was a desk with a nice-seeming lady sitting behind it. "This is Mrs. Garcia," said Mr. Tushman, and the lady smiled at Mom and took off her glasses and got up out of her chair. My mother shook her hand and said: "Isabel Pullman, nice to meet you." "And this is August," Mr. Tushman said. Mom kind of stepped to the side a bit, so I would move forward. Then that thing happened that I've seen happen a million times before. When I looked up at her, Mrs. Garcia's eyes dropped for a second. It was so fast no one else would have noticed, since the rest of her face stayed exactly the same. She was smiling a really shiny smile. "Such a pleasure to meet you, August," she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. "Hi," I said quietly, giving her my hand, but I didn't want to look at her face, so I kept staring at her glasses, which hung from a chain around her neck. "Wow, what a firm grip!" said Mrs. Garcia. Her hand was really warm. "The kid's got a killer handshake," Mr. Tushman agreed, and everyone laughed above my head. "You can call me Mrs. G," Mrs. Garcia said. I think she was talking to me, but I was looking at all the stuff on her desk now. "That's what everyone calls me. Mrs. G, I forgot my combination. Mrs. G, I need a late pass. Mrs. G, I want to change my elective." "Mrs. G's actually the one who runs the place," said Mr.Tushman, which again made all the grown-ups laugh. "I'm here every morning by seven-thirty," Mrs. Garcia continued, still looking at me while I stared at her brown sandals with small purple flowers on the buckles. "So if you ever need anything, August, I'm the one to ask. And you can ask me anything." "Okay," I mumbled. "Oh, look at that cute baby," Mom said, pointing to one of the photographs on Mrs. Garcia's bulletin board. "Is he yours?" "No, my goodness!" said Mrs. Garcia, smiling a big smile now that was totally different from her shiny smile. "You've just made my day. He's my grandson." "What a cutie!" said Mom, shaking her head. "How old?" "In that picture he was five months, I think. But he's big now. Almost eight years old!" "Wow," said Mom, nodding and smiling. "Well, he is absolutely beautiful." "Thank you!" said Mrs. Garcia, nodding like she was about to say something else about her grandson. But then all of a sudden her smile got a little smaller. "We're all going to take very good care of August," she said to Mom, and I saw her give Mom's hand a little squeeze. I looked at Mom's face, and that's when I realized she was just as nervous as I was. I guess I liked Mrs. Garcia-when she wasn't wearing her shiny smile.

2022/8/31
04:18
[Part 1_August]C6——Paging Mr.Tushman

[Part 1_August]C6——Paging Mr.Tushman

Paging Mr.TushmanI would have been more nervous about meeting Mr. Tushman if I'd known I was also going to be meeting some kids from the new school. But I didn't know, so if anything, I was kind of giggly. I couldn't stop thinking about all the jokes Daddy had made about Mr. Tushman's name. So when me and Mom arrived at Beecher Prep a few weeks before the start of school, and I saw Mr. Tushman standing there, waiting for us at the entrance, I started giggling right away. He didn't look at all like what I pictured, though. I guess I thought he would have a huge butt, but he didn't. In fact, he was a pretty normal guy. Tall and thin. Old but not really old. He seemed nice. He shook my mom's hand first. "Hi, Mr. Tushman, it's so nice to see you again," said Mom. "This is my son, August." Mr. Tushman looked right at me and smiled and nodded. He put his hand out for me to shake. "Hi, August," he said, totally normally. "It's a pleasure to meet you." "Hi,” I mumbled, dropping my hand into his hand while I looked down at his feet. He was wearing red Adidas. "So," he said, kneeling down in front of me so I couldn't look at his sneakers but had to look at his face, "your mom and dad have told me a lot about you." "Like what have they told you?" I asked. "Sorry?" "Honey, you have to speak up," said Mom. "Like what?" I asked, trying not to mumble. I admit I have a bad habit of mumbling. "Well, that you like to read," said Mr. Tushman, "and that you're a great artist." He had blue eyes with white eyelashes. "And you're into science, right?" "Uh-huh," I said, nodding. "We have a couple of great science electives at Beecher," he said. "Maybe you'll take one of them?" "Uh-huh," I said, though I had no idea what an elective was. "So, are you ready to take a tour?" "You mean we're doing that now?" I said. "Did you think we were going to the movies?" he answered, smiling as he stood up. "You didn't tell me we were taking a tour," I said to Mom in my accusing voice. "Auggie . . . ," she started to say. "It'll be fine, August," said Mr. Tushman, holding his hand out to me. "I promise." I think he wanted me to take his hand, but I took Mom's instead. He smiled and started walking toward the entrance. Mommy gave my hand a little squeeze, though I don't know if it was an "I love you" squeeze or an "I'm sorry" squeeze. Probably a little of both. The only school I'd ever been inside before was Via's, when I went with Mom and Dad to watch Via sing in spring concerts and stuff like that. This school was very different. It was smaller. It smelled like a hospital.

2022/8/31
03:57