The Prince of Neither Here Nor There Read Online Free PDF

fulfilled. As a result, he took grim pleasure in inflicting physical exercise on his students.
    “Whatevs.” Chester shrugged and wound up his massive arm. The inflated rubber sphere was clutched in Chester’s banana-like fingers, the surface dimpling as he reared back to launch a massive throw at Brendan as he squatted, cornered.
    Suddenly, Brendan felt a surge of anger. He was tired of being sneered at. He was tired of having a giant pimple on his forehead. He was tired of being afraid. How dare this big guy humiliate him in front of his friends and, more importantly, in front of the girl of his dreams? He shouted in his mind, NO! He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Gathering himself like a panther, he let loose with a feral cry.
    “Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Brendan launched himself across the floor at Chester, driven by all the pent-up frustration of being a nerd. Chester’s eyes opened wide in surprise. At first, the lunge was quite impressive. The onlookers held their collective breath as Brendan surged forward. Unfortunately, Brendan was unaware that his shoelace was untied. He stepped on the offending lace and tripped himself spectacularly. He face-planted on the hardwood and slid with a skin-erasing squeak on the waxed surface, ending up spread-eagled at Chester’s feet.
    Brendan rolled over onto his back, blinking up at his adversary. Chester grinned evilly and cocked the ball back for the coup de grâce.
    “Nice one, dorkmaster!” Chester said with relish. He slam-dunked the rubber orb squarely into Brendan’s upturned face.
    Fifteen minutes later, Brendan was assuring the nurse, Mrs. Barsoomian, that he was fine. His nose had stopped bleeding and the ringing in his ears had subsided. His face, normally somewhat pale and spotty, was an angry red welt from ear to ear. He looked like the recipient of an intense and localized facial sunburn. His glasses hadn’t broken but they had been mashed into his skull, leaving a welt around his eyes. He held up his hand to ward off another cold compress. “I’m fine, really, Mrs. Barsoomian.”
    “Are you sure? You can lie down and rest a while longer if you wish.” The thin dark face of the nurse was full of concern. “I can put some lotion on your face. Or a bag of ice, maybe.” Mrs. Barsoomian was a sweet little woman with dark hair and kind brown eyes. Brendan felt embarrassed by the attention.
    “No thanks.” Brendan smiled and winced at the sudden pain. “Really, I’ll be fine.”
    “I get more patients from Murderball than from any other source.” Mrs. Barsoomian shook her head in irritation. “It should be outlawed.” 23
    “Yes, ma’am. In a perfect world, I’d never play again but Mr. Davenport wants to make a man out of me.”
    “Someone should make a man out of Mr. Davenport,” Mrs. Barsoomian said darkly.
    Brendan pushed himself off the examining table and stood, woozily. “Can I go now?”
    Mrs. Barsoomian eyed him critically, then nodded. “All right. Come back if you feel any dizziness.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Released from the nurse’s office, Brendan walked out into the hall to find Kim, Harold, and Dmitri waiting for him.
    “Holy tomato face!” Harold said in awe. “That is, I don’t mean to say your face is juicy and a great source of lycopene. 24 I mean that your face is the exact shade of a ripe tomato!” Harold fumbled in his bookbag and fished out a crimson crayon. He held it up to Brendan’s face. “See? I was right! Tomato Red!”
    “Thanks for your sympathy, Harold,” Brendan growled, batting the crayon away from his face. He tried to arrange his glasses so that they didn’t irritate his sore face.
    “Nice technique.” Kim shook her head. “You jumped right into that ball. You got a death wish?”
    Brendan shrugged and started walking down the hall toward their next class, chemistry with Mr. Bowley. “I dunno. Just got tired of waiting for him to cream me, so …”
    “You decided to attack him with