The Cybil War Read Online Free PDF Page B

story about you—I was really pouring it on—she just went back in the house.”
    â€œWhat story were you telling?”
    â€œAbout the time you broke your arm,” he said swiftly, happy he came from a family where lying was an inborn gift. “And that when they set it you didn’t take any ether and—”
    â€œI never broke my arm.”
    â€œOh, I thought you did. Well, anyway, she wouldn’t listen. She went in the house and started playing the piano. You heard that?”
    Simon nodded. “Well, I got to go in.”
    â€œSure.”
    Their eyes met again, a questioning look, but both of them turned away before anything was revealed. Tony ‘kept watching Simon as Simon walked up the steps. Then he shrugged. “Anh!” He made the motion of pushing Simon and the whole stupid business away as he turned to go home.
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    â€œDid you and Tony have a fight?” Simon’s mother asked as he came in the door.
    â€œWhy do you ask that?”
    â€œBecause you always have that look on your face when you have a fight.”
    â€œI don’t have any ‘look’ on my face.”
    â€œYes, you do. Your face gets red and—”
    â€œMaybe I’ve been running. Maybe I’ve been in the sun.” He resented the fact that his emotions showed on his face. “Just leave me alone.”
    He was aware that his mother was watching him closely. Ever since his father left, she had been doing this. How are you? How do you feel? Is there anything wrong? Talk to me. It was as if she never wanted to be taken by surprise again.
    â€œI’m not going to run away and live in a forest, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he had said once in exasperation. “May I remind you of my allergies and my magnetic ability to attract wasps?”
    â€œI know you’re not going to run away,” she’d said, but the fact that he’d put the thought into words only seemed to make her worry more.
    â€œSimon—”
    â€œOh, leave me alone,” he said again. He sometimes had the feeling that when he died, if people would just leave him alone, he could come back to life.
    She sighed and smiled. “Then tell me what isn’t wrong, tell me something, anything.”
    He paused, his red face turned toward the blank television set. The TV had gone out three months ago, during a rerun of Bonanza, Simon’s favorite show, and Mrs. Newton had not had it repaired. From habit, Simon still watched the blank screen when he wanted to be diverted.
    â€œTell me something that happened at school today,” she suggested.
    He looked at her. “And I can go to my room?”
    â€œYes, if it’s about you. Don’t tell me about somebody throwing up in the cafeteria.”
    â€œThat happened yesterday. Well, let’s see. Oh, here’s the big news of today. We are having a nutrition play. This is because Miss McFawn used to teach first grade where they did nothing but put on plays. I have been selected for a lesser role—the peanut butter—but I shall try to bring dignity and character to the part. Can I go?”
    â€œWhat’s Tony?”
    His face did not change expression. “Dill pickle.”
    â€œGo on.”
    â€œWell, that’s basically it. One of the green beans—Laura Goode—hit me because I laughed when Tony said she actually resembled a green bean from the side.”
    â€œAw.”
    â€œ Hard , Mom. Look.” He found a small bruise above his elbow and showed it to her. “And then I was falsely accused of calling two other girls sacks of potatoes and one girl a tub of blubber, which, incidentally, she does resemble. The tub of blubber did not hit me, fortunately, or I would be in the hospital.”
    He looked at her, keeping his face bright and cheerful so she would know he was fine and leave him alone. “Is that enough?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œCan I go