Finding the Worm Read Online Free PDF Page B

say.”
    “Just say you’re sorry. If you do, I can talk to Principal Salvatore about the stress you’ve been under.”
    I thought it over. “But I really and truly didn’t scratch the painting.”
    She took a deep breath, then let it out. “Follow me.”
    I followed her out of her office and into the principal’s office, which was right next door. Miss Medina nodded at the secretary in the front office, who nodded back, and then we headed past her and through a glass door. As we walked in, Principal Salvatore was sitting behind his desk, staring out a huge window that looked onto the street. He was a short guy with black hair, a real round head, and dark stubble on his face. He didn’t have a beard, but he looked like he needed a shave. He always looked that way.
    Miss Medina and I sat down on folding chairs in front of the desk.
    He cleared his throat and said, “I gather we have a problem.”
    Miss Medina looked at me like I was supposed to talk. I kept quiet.
    “I see,” Principal Salvatore said. “You’re Julian Twerski, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “You were suspended from sixth grade last year—for a full week.”
    “Yes.”
    “You injured a handicapped boy. Is that right?”
    I looked off to the side but nodded. I felt the shame of the thing all over again. “We egged him.”
    “Egged him?”
    “We threw eggs at him.” My voice got shaky when Isaid that. Talking about what we did to Danley Dimmel always curls me up on the inside. “We apologized to him, but that doesn’t make it go away.”
    “Do you carry a knife with you to school?”
    “No!”
    Miss Medina interrupted. “Julian isn’t violent, Principal Salvatore.”
    “Ah.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Did you think you deserved to get suspended for that incident?”
    “Yes.”
    “So you accepted responsibility?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s good, Julian. But it’s water under the bridge. What matters is what you do in
my
school, not the mistakes you made in the past. Is that clear?”
    “Yes.”
    “Now tell me about the painting,” he said.
    “Miss Medina thinks I messed up the painting of the Bowne House. It’s not her fault for thinking that, because someone told her I did. Except I didn’t do it. That’s the honest truth.”
    He leaned forward. “Is that the story you’re sticking to?”
    “I don’t know what else to tell you,” I said. “I didn’t do it.”
    “What would you do if you were in my position, Julian?”
    “I guess if I thought I had the right guy, I’d suspend him.”
    “That’s a very honest answer,” he said.
    “Am I suspended?”
    He shook his head. “I gather your friend is ill.”
    “Quentin,” I said. “His name is Quentin.”
    “Do you worry about Quentin?”
    “Yes.”
    “What Quentin is going through, does it make you angry?”
    “I don’t think ‘angry’ is the right word,” I said.
    “Miss Medina thinks I should let you off with a warning.”
    I glanced at her, and she said, “Under the circumstances—”
    “But I really and truly didn’t do it, Principal Salvatore.”
    “Do you see, Julian?” he said. “That’s the core of my dilemma. How can I let you off with a warning when we can’t agree on what I’m warning you about? That would make no sense.”
    I shrugged. I didn’t know what else to do.
    “I gather you’re a writer, Julian.”
    “I like to write, yeah.”
    “Are you a good citizen as well?”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “I’m asking if you consider yourself a good citizen.”
    “I guess,” I said. “I try to be.”
    “Do you know what it means to be a good citizen?”
    “Yes, I think so.”
    “I want you to tell me what it means to be a good citizen.”
    “Being a good citizen, in my opinion—”
    “No, Julian,” he said. “I want you to write an essay on good citizenship. I expect it to be at least two hundred words. And I expect it on my desk Monday morning, before first period. Do I make myself clear?”
    “But I