The Prisoner of Cell 25 Read Online Free PDF Page B

adding two days to your detention.”
    Cody climbed back into his chair. “Sorry, Ms. Johnson.”
    I looked over at Taylor. She was looking at me, slowly shaking her head. I shrugged.
    Ms. Johnson let us out early again. On the way out of the cafeteria, Taylor said, “Nice spending time with you, Ms. Johnson.”
    “You too, Taylor.” Ms. Johnson glanced over at me. “Hopefully your behavior will rub off on some of the other students.”
    “I hope so,” she said.
    Taylor laughed when we were out of the cafeteria. “Stick with me, Vey, maybe my behavior will rub off on you.”
    “Thanks,” I said sarcastically. Actually I was happy to stick with her, but for other reasons.
    As we walked down the hall Taylor asked, “What did you do to Cody?”
    “Nothing,” I said.
    “Same ‘nothing’ you did to Jack and his gang?”
    I grinned. “Maybe.”
    “Whatever you’re doing, you shouldn’t do it in public like that.”
    “You should talk. Besides, Cody started it.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” Taylor said.
    I turned to her. “It does to me. I’m sick of being picked on and doing nothing about it. It’s like having a racecar you have to leave parked in the garage all the time. Why even have it?” I opened the door for her, and we walked out of the school.
    “I know. But if you keep doing it, someone’s going to figure it out.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not.”
    We walked toward the back of the schoolyard. “Where do you live?” I asked.
    “It’s just through that fence over there and two houses down. So, tell me about the other day when Jack was picking on you.”
    “You have to first tell me what you did to Poulsen.”
    Taylor nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell you when we get to my house.”
    Taylor’s house was a tan rambler with plastic pink flamingoes in the front yard and a small grove of aspens on the side. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.
    “No one’s home,” she said. She stepped inside, and I followed her.
    The house was tidy and nice, bigger than our apartment, but not by much. There was a large wood-framed picture of her family above the living room fireplace. She had two older brothers. Everyone in Taylor’s family had blond hair and blue eyes except Taylor.
    “Where’s your family?”
    “My parents are at work. My brothers are in college. I usually only see them on weekends.”
    “Where do your parents work?”
    “My mom works for a travel agency that does educational tours for high school students. My father’s a police officer.” Taylor turned on the lights and led me to the kitchen. “Want some juice or something?”
    “No thanks.”
    “Go ahead and sit down.”
    I sat down at the kitchen bar while she looked inside the fridge.
    I put my hand over my right eye, which was fluttering like a moth’s wing.
    “How about some lemonade?” she asked.
    “Sure.”
    She poured us both a glass then sat down next to me. “Can I ask you something?”
    “Sure.”
    “Why do you blink like that?”
    I flushed. “I have Tourette’s syndrome.”
    “Tourette’s syndrome? You mean, like those people who shout out swear words for no reason?”
    “That’s Tourette’s, but I don’t do that. I do other things.”
    “Like blinking?”
    “Blinking. Sometimes I make gulping noises. Sometimes I make faces.”
    “Why?”
    I shrugged. “No one really knows why. Tourette’s is a neurological thing, so it can affect any part of my body.”
    “Does it hurt?”
    “Sometimes.”
    She thought it over. “Is it okay that I’m asking you about this?
    I’m not trying to embarrass you. I just thought, if we’re going to be friends, I should know.”
    What she said made me happy. If we’re going to be friends . . .
    “Yeah. It’s okay.”
    Taylor stood. “Let’s sit in the family room. You can bring your drink.” We walked into the next room, then sat down next to each other on the sofa. I took a drink of lemonade and puckered. “Wow. That’s