Eliot jammed a thumb in Caroline’s direction. “She’s my sister.”
“Not by choice,” Caroline said.
“Nor mine,” Eliot returned.
“I get that,” Mattie said and then felt bad because he didn’t really regret having Carter as a brother. Not exactly. Well, possibly. “You don’t look like brother and sister,” Mattie said at last.
“I’m adopted,” Caroline told him. “You don’t have to look alike to be family, genius.”
Mattie glared at Caroline. Caroline glared back. Mattie knew he should be angry because Caroline meant the “genius” comment as an insult, but it was still better than being called Astro or Scooby, so he was torn.
He did know Caroline was a bit frightening. Maybe more than a bit.
“What are you in for?” Eliot asked.
“In for?” Mattie echoed. Eliot made Munchem sound like prison, which was sort of cool and sort of terrifying.
Mostly terrifying, Mattie decided. “I stole a train,” he said at last.
Caroline gasped. “You stole a train?”
“It was an accident,” Mattie said.
“You stole a train accidentally?” Caroline was aghast, and when Caroline was aghast her nose wrinkled like she smelled something bad. “How do you steal a train accidentally?”
“Poor judgment?” Mattie guessed.
“Little tip,” Eliot said, shaking his head. “Don’t tell people around here you stole stuff ‘accidentally,’ okay? You will not like the results.”
“Okay,” Mattie said.
Eliot nodded. “You know what I did? I broke into my school’s security system and rigged the fire alarm to go off during my math test.”
“Wow,” Mattie said because he couldn’t think of anything else and Eliot was staring at him expectantly.
Mattie wanted to ask Eliot why he didn’t just study for the math test in the first place. In fact, Mattie was very busy thinking about how Eliot must be smart if he could hack into his school’s security system and how smart kids could make really good grades if they wanted to, when Mattie realized Eliot and Caroline were still staring at him.
Was he supposed to say something else? Mattie crammed both hands into his pockets and thought really hard. “Your parents must’ve been super mad,” he said finally.
Eliot shook his head. “Not so much.”
“They were angrier that he started doing it for everyone else too,” Caroline said.
“And charged them for it,” Eliot added. “I made twenty dollars off every person who wanted to get out of a test. You know how much money that is?”
Mattie thought about it. “No.”
“A lot,” Eliot said. “Only I didn’t get to keep any of it because my parents made me give everything back and then they sent me here.”
Mattie perked up. “So you’re new too?”
“No. I came last year.”
Mattie felt deflated. He looked at Caroline. “What about you? What did you do?”
“She let a bunch of laboratory animals loose,” Eliot said.
“You did?” Mattie’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open. “Like rats or something?”
“Monkeys.” Caroline crossed her arms and squared her shoulders like a superhero overseeing her city. “Animals should be free. They don’t like being experimented on.”
“They don’t like living in the Bloomingdale’s department store either,” Eliot told his sister.
Caroline rolled her eyes. “They looked pretty happy to me.”
“They jumped on all the beds in the home department! They used all the pillows!”
“Haven’t you always wanted to do that?”
“That isn’t the point!”
“That’s exactly the point!”
Caroline held her palm inches away from Eliot’s face. “I can’t deal with you when you’re being like this,” she announced and stomped away, kicking up swirls of dust with her shoes.
Eliot glared after her before turning to Mattie. “Boost me up, okay?”
Mattie blinked. “Oh, you mean…?” He looked at the shadowy hole in the ceiling. It looked scary and interesting at the same time. “What were you doing up there?”
“Nothing.” Eliot put one hand on Mattie’s shoulder and motioned for Mattie to bend down. “You know how this works, right? You’ve boosted people before?”
“Um,” Mattie said. Actually, he didn’t know because he’d never done it. Carter never asked him for help, and the grown-ups usually boosted Mattie. He’d never done it the other way around, but maybe—
Eliot rolled his eyes. “You know what? I’ll boost you. You’re smaller anyway. Just grab the ceiling tile and pull it over the hole as you come down. Got it?”
“Okay,” Mattie said, balancing one foot on Eliot’s linked hands. He paused. “You’re not going to drop me, are you?”
“I won’t if you hurry,” Eliot said.
That seemed like the sort of promise Carter would make, but Mattie stepped on Eliot’s hands anyway and Eliot hoisted him up, leaning both of them against the wall for support and…
It worked! Mattie’s head poked through the hole. He was in some sort of attic space. The air was cold, the floorboards were gritty, and it smelled exactly like Eliot smelled, like an old lady’s purse. It was also dark and Mattie couldn’t see a thing.
“Where’s the—” Mattie scrabbled around until his fingers found the ceiling tile. He tugged it closer. But not before he caught a quick glimpse of lights in the dark. Why were there tiny lights in the attic?
Then his feet went out from under him and both boys crashed to the floor.
“You said you weren’t going to drop me,” Mattie complained, rubbing his aching hip.
“You took too long,” Eliot responded. He lay on the floor and studied the ceiling. As Mattie fell, he had slid the panel into place, and now the hole was perfectly plugged.
“You’re good at that, Mattie,” Eliot said and rolled to his feet. “We’re going to do that again. Later.”
Mattie wasn’t sure he liked the idea, but he did like the fact that Eliot wanted to include him. And that Eliot had used his real name instead of New Kid. Maybe this was what his dad meant when he said Mattie “should concentrate on the big data.”
“So what grade are you in?” Eliot asked.
“Sixth,” Mattie said.
“Oh!” Eliot rocked back on his heels. “That means we’re roommates.”
Mattie grinned. It should have been a forced grin because Mattie was now dirty, Eliot was clearly out of his mind, and plugging holes in Munchem’s ceiling was probably frowned upon, but at the moment, Mattie was feeling pretty good.
He was feeling useful. Capable.
Mattie kind of liked that. In fact, he liked it so much that he forgot about being nervous as he followed Eliot down the hallway. It was long and narrow and framed by windows on both sides. At the very end there was a single door.
“This is our room,” Eliot said. Mattie stopped and took a deep breath. This was a moment he needed to prepare for, a moment to savor. Only Eliot pushed him along and they crammed through the single red door together.
ELEVEN YEARS OF LIVING WITH THE LARIMORES had prepared Mattie for saying things that made adults laugh at dinner parties, nodding during lectures, and always picking the first desk in the first row. It had not prepared him for three other roommates who looked at him as if he had tracked mud into their room.
Although, if he had, Mattie had no idea how anyone would be able to tell. Room 14A’s floor was dirt-colored, or maybe it was just dirt. He couldn’t tell.
“Lookit,” said a freckle-faced kid sitting on a broken-handled trunk. He had dust bunny brown hair and freckles bright as fresh-cut ham. “It’s the new kid.”
New kid. Mattie rubbed the back of his neck. It felt like it was on fire, and he knew why, because there was another problem with being the new kid. You didn’t have a name. You were just New Kid and, if Mattie didn’t do something qu
ick, he was going to be New Kid until another new kid arrived. That could be tomorrow or next week.
Or two years from now!
He had to do something. Something fast! Something smart! Or else—
“Hey.” A much taller boy in a Munchem blazer appeared in the bathroom door. He pointed at the farthest bed. “You get that bunk, New Kid.”
Too late.
Mattie sat on his New Kid bed. It even had his red trunk sitting at the foot of it, waiting for him just like Miss Maple said it would be. Suddenly, all of his How to Escape Munchem Academy Plans didn’t matter because Mattie was stuck here and Carter wasn’t speaking to him and he was New Kid from now on and—
“I’ve never had a Mexican roommate,” the freckle-faced kid said.
Mattie stared at him. “I’m not Mexican,” he said slowly. “I’m American.”
“You don’t look it.”
Mattie could feel his face twisting in confusion even though he knew—he knew—he shouldn’t make this bigger kid feel stupid. Making bigger kids feel stupid was the first step toward a future of wedgies and arm burns. “I have dark hair and eyes because my mom’s Dominican,” Mattie said at last.
The freckle-faced boy snapped his fingers. “So I was right.”
“Ignore Bell,” the tall boy said. “I’m Kent.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mattie said. “I’m—”
“The New Kid,” Kent finished for him. “We got that. What are you in for?”
“Oh.” Mattie’s hands started to sweat. He remembered what Eliot said about not telling the others he stole the train “accidentally,” but admitting he stole a train on purpose felt worse, and admitting he stole a train to prove something to Carter made Mattie’s stomach want to hurl.
Or maybe that was because all the boys of 14A were staring at him.
“Um,” Mattie said at last. “I stole a train.”
“A train?” Kent tilted his head to one side. “You stole a train?”
“I didn’t mean to!” Mattie blurted. Eliot smacked one hand across his forehead like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “It was an accident!”
“Huh,” Kent said. “Modesty. I like it.”
“Modesty?” Bell asked. “What’s he have to be modest about? He’s not that great.”
Everyone nodded.
Kent pointed his chin toward the other boys. “I’m here for fighting. Eliot’s in for fire alarm stuff.”
“And I did something disgusting in public,” a loud voice said. Everyone in the room tensed and stared at the doorway. Slowly, his stomach sinking toward his toes, Mattie turned around and realized the voice belonged to the biggest kid Mattie had ever seen.
“I’m Doyle,” the big kid announced. “Who’re you?”
“I’m the new kid,” Mattie said. He couldn’t help it. Doyle was just so huge. Like could-kill-Mattie-in-his-sleep-and-bury-him-in-the-courtyard-where-no-one-would-ever-find-him huge. Doyle was as wide as he was tall and had shaved his blond hair so close to his skull that he looked bald. Kind of like a baby. A really, really ugly enormous baby that wanted to pound Mattie into the dirty carpet.
Mattie swallowed.
“Well, New Kid,” Doyle said, coming so close to Mattie the tips of their sneakers touched. “If anyone asks, I’ve been here all afternoon. You understand?”
Mattie blinked and blinked again. He couldn’t understand anything. All he could think about was Eliot saying something about Doyle stuffing some kid under the bleachers. Doyle. How many Doyles could there be at Munchem? Mattie was pretty sure there weren’t going to be many and now he was rooming with Doyle?
Mattie started to wheeze.
“Hey!” Doyle shoved Mattie’s shoulder. “Is this one stupid?”
“Kinda early to tell,” Kent said.
“I’m not stupid. I’m eleven,” Mattie managed and then wondered if he really might be stupid. It was starting to seem entirely possible. He held his breath, ready to run for his life if Doyle should try to squish him.
Doyle sighed. “Kent? Take care of this.”
For a moment, Mattie thought Doyle had just ordered Kent to take care of him, but then he realized Doyle didn’t mean that at all. He meant for Kent to take care of Doyle’s bed.
It was disgusting. The covers were streaked with dusty smears. The bedspread was coated in orange crumbs, which perfectly matched the orange fingerprints on the pillows. And then there was the wet spot on the mattress by the headboard.
Was that drool? Mattie shuddered, but Kent didn’t seem to notice as he shook out the pillows.
“Get dressed,” Kent said as he smoothed Doyle’s bedspread. “The Rooster’s going to do room checks—”
“The Rooster?” Mattie interrupted.
“Headmaster Rooney,” Kent explained, staring at the wet spot on the bed. Mattie thought he saw Kent gag. “He’ll be here in twenty minutes, and if you get us in trouble, there will be payback.”
“Definite payback,” Bell agreed.
They made it sound like something they were looking forward to. Mattie managed a nod and shuffled toward his trunk. He took out all the things Manfred had packed for him: his new navy pants, his new white shirt, his new red sweater vest. Mattie put them on the bed and then, because his knees were wobbly, he sat on the bed.
It was more comfortable than he expected it to be. In fact, sitting on the New Kid bunk was a bit like sitting on his bed at home.
It made hot tears creep into the corners of his eyes.
Which, if Mattie were honest (and he was trying to be extra honest because he wanted to get out of Munchem), were really badly timed.
The last thing he needed was his new roommates watching him cry. Mattie closed his eyes and took a deep breath just like his mother’s yoga instructor was always telling her to do and…yes. Yes, he was better. Mattie thought about his new room. He thought about his roommates. Bell had freckles. Eliot liked to fall out of ceilings. Kent was Doyle’s friend. And Doyle…well, Doyle seemed like he enjoyed kicking people.
Mattie took another breath, and felt his spine unknot. Yep, he definitely felt better. He felt—
Thwap!
Something soft and smelly smacked him in the nose. Mattie’s eyes flew open. “Oh, God!” was all he could manage because a sock was now lying in his lap, and it smelled horrible. Like dead fish and mall bathrooms and rotten things lying in the summer sun.
Worse, the terrible stench clung to the skin between his eyes so that every time he breathed through his nose he smelled it, and every time he breathed through his mouth he tasted it.
“Welcome to 14A,” Doyle said as Bell and Kent laughed.
Mattie laughed too. “Good one,” he said.
He considered throwing the sock back at them, but because Mattie wasn’t stupid, he put the sock on the floor next to his bed instead. He had twenty minutes to change. The other boys might think he was playing along because he didn’t want to make them mad and that was fine.
Because Mattie had other ideas. He was getting out of here and he knew exactly how he’d do it. Project A: Charm the Teachers was about to begin.
TO MATTIE’S ETERNAL CREDIT, PROJECT A: Charm the Teachers did indeed begin. It started with Mattie smiling at every teacher in the hallway, it continued with Mattie agreeing with everything the teachers said, and it ended a week later when Mrs. Hitchcock smelled something horrible during morning study hall.
Mattie smelled it too. His eyes began to water. The stench was like flaming garbage and week-old underwear and dirty turtle tanks, and it made Mrs. Hitchcock gag.
“Which one of you did that?” she demanded, eyes darting from student to student, but the students were writhing in their desks and no one would admit anything. Mattie tried to breathe through his sweater sleeve, but now he just smelled wool and stench.
“Tell me!” Mrs. Hitchcock shrieked, smashing one hand against her nose. “Tell me right now or—”
HummmmmNAH!
The classroom’s air con
ditioner cut on, billowing cool air and stink over everyone. People starting choking.
“It smells like bathrooms!” someone cried.
“It smells like girls!” someone else shrieked.
“No, it doesn’t! It smells like boys!”
“It smells like it’s coming from the air vent,” Mattie said, because it did. The stench ballooned over them as soon as the air conditioner started. Mattie had a bad feeling he knew what was in there. Well, not precisely what was in there, but he’d smelled a similar joke before.
It had been last summer. Mr. Larimore had cranked the air conditioner in his big black SUV and the vehicle had been filled with the stench of Manfred’s fish dinner. It had been stuffed underneath the hood, pressed into the air vents. Their father had sworn. Their mother had cried. Mattie had gagged. And Carter? Well, Carter had taped the whole thing on his cell phone.
His brother was behind this. Mattie was sure of it.
Still holding her nose, Mrs. Hitchcock approached the air conditioning unit wedged into the narrow window. She crept closer…and closer…
And reeled backward, gagging.
“You!” Mrs. Hitchcock snapped her fingers at Mattie. “Take a look.”
“Teacher’s pet,” Doyle whispered.
Behind him, Doyle’s best friend, Maxwell, snickered. “Good one, Doyle!” he whispered, which was what Maxwell usually said because Maxwell always agreed with Doyle. Mattie still couldn’t figure out if that was because he really thought Doyle was awesome, or if Doyle had simply swirlied Maxwell so many times he thought everything was awesome.
“Let’s see you look happy about this, New Kid!” Doyle added, kicking Mattie’s shin as he passed.
Mattie winced and limped to the front of the classroom. He was sorry when he realized that Mrs. Hitchcock’s selecting him had less to do with Mattie being her favorite as much as it did with Mattie being the smallest kid in the class and the only one who could fit both arms into the metal window unit.
Mattie undid the front screws (loose), pulled back the grill panel (also loose), and, while holding his breath, looked inside.
The Boy Who Knew Too Much Page 4