But instead she said, “I’m not going to tell.”
Mackenzie looked up, her eyes wide. Her mouth fell open.
“I should tell on you,” Emma went on. “But I want to show you that people can be kind and forgiving. You can be kind and forgiving. There’s no reason why you have to be mean. People would like you more if you weren’t. Maybe you’d like yourself more, too.”
Mackenzie blinked. Her eyes began to glisten.
“You have to give back everything you’ve taken,” Emma said. “Not just today, but all the other times, too.” Once again, she held up her phone. “And if I ever hear that money is missing from a locker again, then I really will show this to everyone.”
And with that, Emma turned her back on the Mistress of Microaggressions, and walked away down the hall. With a smile on her face that Mackenzie couldn’t see.
* * *
In the emergency room at Franklin Hospital, Aunt Mary held a small plastic cup of water against Crosby’s eye and told him to blink. The water soothed the burning. Wearing a blue paper hospital gown, he was propped up on a narrow bed in a room lined with medical equipment.
Aunt Mary smoothed his hair. When Crosby was first brought to the emergency room, the nurses made him remove his pants and shirt because both were still full of tear gas. Someone asked him his name and address, and when Crosby told them, there were murmurs and he heard someone say, “You better get Mary.”
Now his aunt was here, gently attending to him. “You came all the way from Ironville by yourself?” she asked while she rubbed his neck and arms with a cleansing wipe to remove the tear gas residue.
“I just wanted to see,” Crosby said meekly. He was still trembling. Still shaken by the mayhem and brutality he’d been trapped in. He hadn’t been arrested. The police officer put him in that squad car for safety and then went to look for more injured marchers. When the backseat of the car was filled with gasping, nearly blinded rioters, the officer drove them to the hospital emergency room.
“You have to stay away from them, honey,” his aunt said softly. “They’re haters and racists. Do you really want to be like that?”
Her soothing voice and gentle touch were enough to make Crosby break down and cry. The water from the eyewash cup spilled down his paper gown, leaving a dark stain. As he sat sobbing, feeling broken and empty, he felt his aunt’s arms go around him.
“Listen,” she said. “I may not be a psychologist, but it’s plain as day to me that this is about your mom being so sick. With your dad not around, you must be so worried about the future.” Crosby sniffed and nodded.
“You don’t have to be scared,” Aunt Mary whispered. “I’ll always be here for you. You don’t have to join some white supremacist group to feel wanted. I’ll always want you.”
School had just ended. The boys’ room was empty.
Squad tactician Goofy Foot enters the pissorium to test the new and improved advanced caramel loogie projectile. Goofy Foot has already popped a piece of caramel into his mouth. Spit adhesiveness is increasing. The countdown begins:
Ten…nine…Saliva/mucus mixture approaching desired state of viscosity.
Eight…seven…Gathering saliva/mucus ball behind front teeth.
Six…five…Adjusting lip cannon to appropriate launch angle.
Four…three…Rolling of tongue and compression of lips initiated. Deep inhalation to follow.
Two…one…fire!
The light brown loogie rocketed out through his lips.
Upward it shot.
Zach was certain that it would soon join the other loogies hanging from the ceiling.
But then, just an inch from impact, the loogie stopped.
For an instant it hung motionless in the air.
Then it plunged back down.
Splat!
* * *
Caleb and Emma walked together toward the computer lab. Ms. B had asked the eSports club to meet for a semester wrap-up.
“I sure hope you got rid of that spray can,” Caleb said in a low voice as they walked down the hall.
Emma caught her breath and felt her body tense. “I had a feeling you remembered.”
“Dark coral,” Caleb said. “From our underwater landscape.”
Emma’s insides churned. Would he tell? Was he furious at her for doing something that ended the eSports club for the rest of the semester? Would he hate her forever? “I had to do it,” she said. “It was the only way I could make them understand what they were doing.”
Caleb didn’t respond. He just kept walking.
“Caleb?” she said anxiously.
“It worked,” he said.
Emma exhaled with relief. Just that morning there’d been an announcement that the school would start a unit for sixth graders about internet safety. They were also planning an assembly about hate speech and hate symbols.
“I was afraid you’d be mad,” Emma said.
“This is the beta test, remember?” Caleb said. “We made mistakes. We learned what to do for next semester. And…”
When Caleb trailed off, Emma gave him a curious look. “And what?”
Caleb smiled. “And if it wasn’t for the club, I’m not sure we ever would have seen Emma Lopez stand up to people like Mackenzie Storrs and Nathan Crane.”
* * *
Ms. B stood by the computer lab door and waited for the gamers. For once they wouldn’t be sitting at the table with the Providias. She’d arranged eight chairs in a circle so that the kids could discuss their experiences.
Caleb and Emma were the first to arrive. The next to enter was Zach, wiping his face with a paper towel.
“Oh no, not again,” Ms. B said with a gasp.
Zach grinned and winked. Instead of the hoodie, he was wearing a plaid collared shirt. Of course, since it was Zach, the shirt was wrinkled, and he’d buttoned it crookedly. Still, Ms. B felt a warm glow as she watched him join Caleb and Emma. She thought back to the first informational meeting, when he’d come late and then sat far away from the others, hidden in his hoodie. Zach truly seemed like a different boy now. That alone was enough to make her believe that the first season of the eSports club had been a success.
The members of the former Axis squad were slower to arrive. Both Crosby and Mackenzie came in looking solemn. This puzzled Ms. B. Surely they couldn’t be so gloomy just because the Allied team had won the season, could they? She wondered if something else had happened that she didn’t know about.
The last person to enter was Tyler, who gave Ms. B a jaunty wave and spun a chair around so that he could sit backward. Some kids never change, Ms. B thought. She poked her head out into the hall, but it was empty, so she closed the door and took a seat in the circle. There were eight chairs because Gavin had moved away the previous weekend. But that still left one chair empty.
“Is Nathan coming?” she asked.
Mackenzie shook her head. “He’s moved on to bigger things.”
Ms. B wasn’t sure what that meant, but she let it go. “Well, I asked you here today to talk about the club and what you’ve learned.”
The response among those in the circle ranged from blank expressions to small nods.
“Okay, I’ll break the ice,” Ms. B said. “Overall, I think the eSports club’s been a good thing. But it’s also a bit like Pandora’s box. Once we opened it, all sorts of unexpected things came out. Some good, some definitely not good. Clearly, it’s shown us that as a school, we need to focus more on internet education. We have to do more to prepare you for what you see and hear online.”
Crosby raised his hand. “Are you going to do the club again, Ms. B?”
“Yes, I think so,” she said. “But what are your thoughts about how we can improve it?”
Emma suggested that instead of permanent squads for the whole semester, they switch the
members of the squads for each match “so it doesn’t start to feel like us against them.”
Caleb said that next time they should pick a game that wasn’t based on a real war.
Since they’d been able to get the computers for free, Zach wondered if they should try writing another grant for really good gaming chairs.
Ms. B turned to Mackenzie and Crosby. “Do either of you have anything to add?”
Mackenzie shook her head and then looked at Emma. For once, she didn’t sneer. Her eyes were soft, almost wistful. Emma couldn’t know for certain what she was thinking, but the expression on Mackenzie’s face just might have meant Thanks.
Crosby raised his hand next. “I don’t have a suggestion, Ms. B. Just something I want to say. That okay?”
“That’s fine, Crosby,” Ms. B said.
Crosby turned to Zach. “I learned something. I’ve been picking on certain people because I’ve been really angry about some bad things that are happening at home. But that’s no excuse. What I did was wrong. And…I’m sorry.”
Everyone turned to see how Zach would react. He leaned forward in his chair and held out his fist for a bump. Crosby bumped it.
“Ancient history,” Zach said.
* * *
They were at the top of the big hill again. Zach had wanted Caleb to go first, but Caleb insisted Zach go. He watched as Zach gracefully carved down the long straightaway. When he got to the bottom, Zach stopped before the bend in the road so he could watch Caleb come down.
Caleb stood at the top of the hill with one foot on the board. A breeze ruffled his hair. He took a deep breath of fresh air. He couldn’t think of anyplace he’d rather be.
Down at the bottom of the long straightaway, Zach waved. “You ready?”
Caleb smiled. He’d never been more ready.
My great thanks to Beverly Horowitz, who, as publisher of Delacorte Press, gave me the opportunity to write this book. Forty years ago, when we were both starting out in the publishing world, Beverly edited The Wave. I am grateful that all three of us are still in print. I would also like to thank Kelsey Horton for her excellent editing on this project. In addition, numerous young people and gamers served as resources for this story, including my son, Geoff; Isaac Cooper; and Walker Friedman. Thanks, guys. I am also indebted to Aimee Aslanian, Michael Masino, and Kristina Pantginis for directing me to gamers at their schools. Finally, a hat tip to the Anti-Defamation League and the Southern Poverty Law Center for the research and information they provided. Hate is not the way forward.
TODD STRASSER is the award-winning author of more than 140 novels for teens and preteens. His most notable works include The Wave, Give a Boy a Gun, and Fallout, which are taught in classrooms around the world. He lives in New York.
TODDSTRASSER.COM
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The Good War Page 14