by Joel Ross
I heave a tragic sigh. “I know, right? Tests are a terrible way to measure student performance.”
“No, I mean because you signed up to give a presentation.”
I heave an even tragic-er sigh. “I should have, but I didn’t.”
“Of course you did.” She consults a list. “Oh! I guess your HOST signed you up.”
“R-Rex?” I stammer. “Rex signed me up to give a presentation?”
“That’s right.”
“How? Who? When?”
“Right now,” she says.
“But—but why?”
“He told me you prepared for this.”
“Me!” I babble. “Prepared! For this!”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Ms. Li says. “Now get started.”
So I shuffle to the front of the class. I look across the sea of faces, praying for a lightning strike of brilliance. Or a lightning strike of lightning. I’d happily turn into a pile of ashes right now.
I say, “Uh, the water cycle…”
There’s a long silence.
“… is not Aquaman’s exercise bike,” I finish.
A few kids giggle.
“What can I say about the water cycle?” I ask, pacing in front of the blackboard.
“Good question!” a kid calls from the back.
“Yes, it is! And another good question is, ‘Why are there so many kinds of cheese?’ ”
Ms. Li says, “Alley!”
“I believe Alley forgot his notes,” Rex calls, and that’s when I spot bunny ears at the projector.
“Muh?” I say.
“Thus, we shall use his recorded presentation,” Rex says.
“Guh?” I say.
Ms. Li says, “That’s fine,” and turns off the lights.
Rex starts the projector and the screen says: The Water Cycle by Alex Katz.
“The water cycle has no beginning and no end!” my voice booms.
For a second, I don’t know how I’m saying that. Then I remember: Rex made me repeat science facts! He recorded me, and now he’s playing it back.
“The water cycle is powered by the sun, which warms the oceans,” my voice says, while in the background, another voice chants, “Hawt, hawt, hawt, hawt…”
A video starts playing on the screen. A video that rocks me to the very core:
I’m stunned and befuddled. Heck, I’m A+ fuddled. What is happening right now? The classroom seems to tilt around me while my voice babbles things like, “Vapor rises into the atmosphere” and “Next comes condensation,” and Cameron Sykes chants, “Hawt, hawt, hawt.”
After a horrible eternity, the video shows me bursting from the storage closet and tray-surfing downstairs. My voice says, “Precipitation falls from the sky as snow, sleet, rain, or—”
SMASH! I crash into the Jell-O—and my recorded voice howls, “Runoff! Weeyow! Smackdown monsoon storm cycle!”
And that’s when Ms. Li turns on the lights.
There is a moment of silence.
A long, sticky moment of silence.
Then the cheering starts.
25
The entire class bursts into applause.
Wild, stamping, whistling applause—for me.
Kids whoop and chant, “All-ey! All-ey! All-ey!”
And I sway in shock. What is happening right now? Is this real? Who is what? How is where? When did why?
“Now that,” Ms. Li tells me, “is a presentation nobody will ever forget!”
“A guh?” I say, because even my tongue is confused.
“Rex told me that you’d put on a real show,” she says, chuckling. “And wow, did you deliver.”
“I did?” I blink at her. “I mean, I did!”
“With Rex’s help, of course. He forwarded the video that Maya took and…”
She keeps talking while realizations crackle in my brain like popping candy. Rex is behind this whole thing! That’s the favor he asked from Maya: to send him video for my presentation. He saved me.
“Rex is made of magic,” I tell Ms. Li. “He’s a leprechaun with velvety ears. He’s a crystal ball with a cottontail. He’s a…”
“Paper towel?” Rex asks, suddenly beside me.
“No, you mopsy genius!” I beam at him. “You’re not a paper towel!”
He offers me paper towels. “There is Jell-O behind your ears.”
“Oh!” I gaze at him in wonder. “Do you think of everything?”
“I’m afraid not. However, I do attempt to anticipate the most likely eventualities.”
“Like a boss,” I say.
“Why don’t you help Alley clean up a little more?” Ms. Li asks him.
“I would be happy to,” Rex tells her, and leads me to the bathroom.
“You planned that whole thing!” I say, digging Jell-O out of my ears.
“I did,” he admits.
“How did you know I wouldn’t find the Golden Keys?”
He hands me another paper towel. “I suspected that your faith in their existence was misplaced.”
“Well, you’re wrong about that,” I tell him. “They aren’t even real.”
“I stand corrected,” he says.
“Yeah, I was surprised too. The whole thing was a misunder—wait! You sabotaged the water bucket, right?”
“I did.”
“So we’d all squeeze together in that closet, like molecules in the atmosphere?”
“That is correct,” he says.
“And you stuck the fan on high!”
“Indeed.”
“How did you get Cameron’s video of me hitting the Jell-O?”
“He uploads all student infractions to the website.”
“Oh, yeah. What a creep.” I wipe my neck. “So did you also scatter that confetti behind the chairs?”
Rex nods. “Raindrop-shaped confetti, to better approximate evaporation.”
“Raindrop-shaped! You absolute Einstein!” I think for a second. “Okay, but how’d you know Cameron would chase us yelling, ‘Hut, hut, hut’?”
“That was not Cameron yelling, ‘Hut, hut, hut,’ ” he says. “That was me, intoning, ‘Hot, hot, hot.…’ ”
For a moment, I reel in bewilderment. Why would he do that? Then a bright light burns through the gloom of my confusion.
“Because the hot sun powers the water cycle!” I say, slam-dunking a soggy paper tower into the trash. “The sun provides energy for the lazy bodies of water—me, Alley, and Maya sweating in a heap in gym class!—to rise high in the atmosphere, the staircase, before squeezing together and tumbling back down!”
“Alley Katz,” Rex says, giving a little bow. “You’ve mastered the water cycle.”
26
Principal Kugelmeyer calls me into her office. She doesn’t speak; she just looks at me.
Seconds tick past. I squirm in my chair, thinking about the mop mess and the water-bucket mess and the Jell-O mess.
Finally she says, “How do you explain this?” and turns her computer toward me.
And Principal Kugelmeyer shows me my grade: A+.
“I knew you could do it,” she says, after my parents log off.
“I couldn’t,” I tell her. “Not without Rex.”
She smiles. “The HOST program is good, right?”
“Even better than an alien invasion.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. It’s important that students learn to help each other.”
“Like it says in the name,” I remind her. “Helping Other Students Thrive.”
“Sometimes, though,” she says, “one student might need help academically, while another student needs help socially.”
She’s lost me, but I say, “Sure.”
“A new kid in school, for example, might need someone to look out for him.”
“That is an example,” I agree.
“A young student who doesn’t fit in, say.”
I say, “Mm,” to show that I’m listening.
“A kid so bright that he skippe
d two grades.”
“Two grades!” I repeat, when she pauses for a response.
“Yes. Perhaps a student who doesn’t… dress like the other children. A boy who would benefit from the friendship of an older, more popular student.”
I have no clue what she’s talking about, so I say, “Correct-a-mundo.”
Then I start thinking about brownies and oranges. How come so few foods are named after colors? It’s a better system than most food names. Maybe I’ll start calling milk “white” and bananas “yellows” and—
“Alley. Alley.” Principal Kugelmeyer’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Alley!”
“Here!” I say. “Present! Hello!”
“How much of that did you miss?”
“Honestly? Everything after I sat down.”
She looks stern for a second, then snorts a laugh. “Oh, just go away! Go be yourself.”
“That’s my best subject,” I tell her.
“Oh, but one more thing,” she says, when I’m at the door. “Do you want to keep Rex as a HOST?”
“You mean, like, permanently?”
She looks worried, for some reason. “You don’t have to, but I think it might—”
“Sign me up,” I tell her. “That kid’s my lucky rabbit’s foot.”
* * *
This is my school. Ordinary buses. Ordinary trees. Ordinary kids.
Not him. He’s extraordinary.
Well, he still doesn’t know how to shake hands, but he’s young. If he sticks with me, he’ll learn a thing or two.
So I’m still at Blueberry Hill with my friends. I’m not trimming anyone’s wart hairs, I’m not clipping anyone’s toenails. I’m not eating calf’s-foot jelly.
I’m still making a lot of choices… and not all of them are bad.
About the Author and Illustrator
JOEL ROSS is the author of the Fog Diver series and the Beast & Crown series. He’s never worn a school uniform, but he did try a spoonful of calf’s-foot jelly once. The taste lingers. Visit him at TheJoelJoel.com.
NICOLE MILES was born in the United States, but grew up in the Bahamas, where all schools have uniforms but nobody eats calf’s-foot jelly (as far as she is aware). She feels this is a fair compromise. She now lives in the United Kingdom, and her tiny place on the internet is NicoleMillo.com.
Visit us at simonandschuster.com/kids
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Joel-Ross
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Nicole-Miles
Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Simon & Schuster, New York
ATHENEUM BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS • An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division • 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020 • www.SimonandSchuster.com • This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. • Text © 2021 by Joel Ross • Illustration © 2021 by Nicole Miles • Jacket design © 2021 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. • All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. • ATHENEUM BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Atheneum logo is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. • For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected]. • The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. • The illustrations for this book were rendered digitally. • Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data • Names: Ross, Joel N., 1968– author. | Miles, Nicole, illustrator. • Title: Alley & Rex / Joel Ross ; illustrated by Nicole Miles. • Other titles: Alley and Rex • Description: First edition. | New York : Atheneum Books for Young Readers, [2021] | Audience: Ages 8 to 12. | Summary: Sixth-grader Alley Katz must get an A on a science test, but rather than work with peer mentor Rex, a fourth grader in a bunny suit, he decides to steal the answer key from the teachers’ lounge. • Identifiers: LCCN 2020042996 | ISBN 9781534495432 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781534495463 (ebook) • Subjects: CYAC: Schools—Fiction. | Behavior—Fiction. | Individuality—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Humorous stories. • Classification: LCC PZ7.1.R677 All 2021 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 • LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020042996