Elliot Allagash Read Online Free PDF Page B

sugar crash had settled over the classroom. Most of the class was slumped over in their seats, breathing slowly and heavily, with their eyes half-closed. A few were actually asleep.
    “I know everyone is excited for basketball and cheerleading tryouts,” Mr. Hendricks said. “But before dismissal, we have a quick student announcement. Elliot?”
    Elliot walked over to the blackboard and pressed his hands together, as if in prayer.
    “Every year,” he said. “Three dozen inner-city youths fall victim to asbestos poisoning. I have decided to start an after-school program devoted to fighting this terrible epidemic. I will serve as president, but I will need a secretary to help me with administrative duties on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Obviously, anyone elected to this position would have to forego any basketball or cheerleading commitments. But I’m sure we can all agree that such a sacrifice is a small price to pay to help remove asbestos from our inner-city schools. I’m asking you, my fellow Glendale Lions, to select the student you deem most worthy of this position.”
    Few people looked up as he walked around the classroom, placing ballots on everyone’s desks. I’d spent enough time with Elliot to grow habituated to his oddness. I was used to his knobby fingers, scratchy voice, and chilling stares. But my classmates treated him like a ghost, ignoring him whenever possible
    “I didn’t know you were starting a club,” I whispered when he sat back down next to me.
    “I’m not,” he said.
    I had more questions to ask him, obviously, about James and the candy, but I decided to leave the matter alone. There was something else I wanted to say to him, something I’d been meaning to say for months.
    “Hey, Elliot. Listen…even if I don’t make the team, I just want to say, like, thank you for—”
    He cut me off.
    “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Remember, I’m not doing this out of
kindness
or
generosity
. I’m doing this purely for sport. It’s an intellectualexercise—a way to occupy my days during this hellish period of my life.”
    “Okay,” I said. “But still…I just wanted to say thanks. It really means a lot to me.”
    Elliot hesitated and fiddled with his cuff link. It was the first time, I realized, that I had ever seen him look uncomfortable.
    “You’re welcome,” he muttered finally.
    The bell rang and we filed in to the gym.
    • • •
    The tryouts seemed to move in slow motion, like something out of a dream. I had improved so much so rapidly that it felt as if everyone else had gotten worse. I stole the ball from Lance at the first possible opportunity and bulleted across the court for an easy layup. Lance, a little bit shocked, did his best to score on me during the very next play. But I anticipated his crossover move, stole the ball again, and broke free for another layup. I shot this one left-handed, for variety’s sake. Meanwhile, Elliot’s sugar blitz was having the desired effect. The other boys were so sluggish on the court that the coach actually stopped practice during a sprinting drill to give a speech about “desire.” One of the larger boys, who had been eating samples pretty steadily since recess, took this opportunity to run into the bathroom and vomit.
    In the beginning of the tryout, when I first started dominating, Lance responded with laughter. But his amusement quickly gave way to frustration—and then fear. During the final seconds of the scrimmage, he and another boy double-teamed me at the half-court line in a desperate attempt to stop me. I got past Lance witha spin move, threw the other defender with a pump fake, and knocked down a three-pointer at the buzzer. The gym fell into a reverential silence. The only sound I could hear was a thin, high-pitched giggle coming from the bleachers. I assumed it was one of the girls—they were assembled in the front row—but it was Elliot. He was sitting alone in the very last row, drinking what appeared