121 Express Read Online Free PDF Page A

friends are total jerks.”
    Sandeep looked up from his book. “Yeah,” he said. “Total jerks.”
    I looked at both of them. “At least I’ve got friends.”
    Valerie glared. Sandeep sucked in his breath.
    But I didn’t care. I didn’t want anything to do with those two losers.

chapter eight
    We were pretty surprised when Old Quack Quack—that’s what everyone at Lorne Crest calls the principal, Mr. Mallard—got on the bus.
    Kelly, who was drawing a heart on the side of Jake’s neck, dropped her pen. Pierre, who was fiddling with the emergency window on the ceiling, dropped back into his seat.
    Old Quack Quack was going bald, but he had a tuft of gray hair that grew up likea bushy island on the top of his forehead. His pop eyes bulged behind his thick glasses.
    He cleared his throat. Old Quack Quack generally didn’t have much to do with us students. He spent most of his time on the phone in his office.
    Old Quack Quack’s eyes traveled down the bus, starting at the front and working their way steadily to the back. “In August, each of you received a copy of a letter sent to me by the Montreal Transit Corporation. In that letter, the mtc threatened to stop service on the 121 Express because of complaints about bad behavior on the bus. But this time, you people have gone even further,” he said, wagging a pudgy finger in the air. “Even further.”
    None of us said a thing. We all just sat there, trying to look innocent.
    â€œI think you know exactly what I’m getting at,” he added.
    There was still no reaction. Old Quack Quack’s eyes got even bulgier.
    â€œYesterday,” he said, pausing as if hewanted to emphasize the word, “one of you threw an apple at a woman on Côte-Vertu Boulevard.” Now he reached into his pocket and took out an apple—a small red MacIntosh with green speckles.
    Georgie slouched in his seat as if he wished he could disappear.
    â€œWell,” Old Quack Quack went on, “it turns out that woman was seriously hurt. She sustained an injury to her eye, and the damage may be”—he lowered his voice— “permanent.”
    â€œOh no!” Jewel Chu said, covering her mouth.
    Old Quack Quack smiled approvingly at Jewel. “Oh yes,” he said. “And now, I’ve got someone I’d like you people to meet. Someone you may recognize.”
    There was one loud gasp on the bus— the sound of all of us gasping at the same time—when the old woman stepped onto the bus. We’d been so focused on Old Quack Quack’s speech we hadn’t noticed her standing outside with Mr. Adams.
    She was wearing the same cloth coatshe’d worn the day before, only now she had a black patch on one eye.
    Old Quack Quack reached for the woman’s hand and helped her up the stairs.
    â€œBoys and girls,” he said. “I’d like you to meet Annabelle Miller. Mrs. Miller— welcome to the 121 Express.”
    Annabelle Miller peered at us with her good eye.
    I noticed Valerie scoot over in her seat so she could get a closer look at Mrs. Miller.
    â€œShouldn’t you be lying down, Mrs. Miller? Resting your eye?” Jewel Chu asked.
    Mrs. Miller shook her head. “My eye isn’t very good,” she said. Her voice was low, and we all leaned forward to hear her. “The doctor thinks there is a chance I’ll get my vision back. But that isn’t why I came here today.”
    She had grabbed onto one of the poles for support.
    â€œI came here to ask you young people to stop your shenanigans. And I came hereto ask you—all of you—to tell this nice young fellow,” she smiled up at Old Quack Quack, “who threw the apple that hit me. Justice,” she said, peering at us with her good eye, “must be served.”
    Old Quack Quack—imagine someone calling him young—shifted from one foot to the other. “If no one