The Way I Used to Be Read Online Free PDF Page A

the table.”
    â€œSure,” he mumbles, following behind me as I lead him to the dining room.
    We sit down and Stephen pulls a notebook out of his backpack. I readjust the stack of Columbus books I’ve checked out from the library.
    â€œSo what are we working on, Minnie?” Dad says too loudly, suddenly appearing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, holding a steaming cup of coffee. Stephen jumps before turning around in his seat to look up at my dad.
    â€œDad, this is Stephen. Stephen, my dad. We’re doing a history project on Columbus.”
    I try to silently plead with him to just keep this brief. Both my dad and my mom were making such a huge deal of me having a boy over. I told them before he got here that it’s not like that. I don’t even think of Stephen in that way. I don’t think I’ll ever think of anyone in that way.
    Stephen adds, “Hero or Villain.”
    â€œAh. Hmm. Okay,” Dad says, grinning at me before walking back into the living room.
    â€œWho’s Minnie?” Stephen whispers.
    â€œDon’t ask,” I tell him, rolling my eyes.
    â€œSo, you stopped coming to lunch this week?” he says, like a question. “Sorry.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œWhat happened Monday. In the cafeteria. I wish I would have said something. I should’ve said something. I hate those guys—they’re morons.”
    I shrug. “Did Mara ask you about the book club thing?”
    He nods.
    â€œWill you do it? We need people to come. At least six people. Miss Sullivan’s really nice. She’s been letting me stay in the library all week.” I try to make this seem cooler than it probably is. “I think she gets it, you know?”
    â€œShe gets what?”
    â€œYou know, just, the way things are. How there are all these stupid cliques, and rules you’re supposed to follow that don’t make any sense. Just all of it, you know?” I stop myself, because sometimes I forget we aren’t really supposed to talk about this. We’re supposed to accept it. Supposed to feel like it’s all of us who have the problem. And we’re supposed to deal with it like it’s our problem even though it’s not.
    Still, he just stares at me in this strange way.
    â€œI mean, you get it, right?” I ask him. How could he not get it, I think to myself. I mean, look at him. Total geek. Overweight. No friends.
    â€œYeah,” he says slowly. “Yeah, I get it. No one’s ever really said it like that, I guess.” He looks at me in this way he’s never looked at me before, like I’ve told him some big secret he never knew about himself.
    â€œWell, consider it, anyway—the book club.” I pause and take a breath. “So, Columbus?”
    â€œRight,” he says absently.
    â€œSo, what do you think?” I try to steer our conversation to our project and away from all this dangerous honesty. “Hero or villain?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Stephen says, still preoccupied. “I was reading online that there were all kinds of people that got here before Columbus. I mean, Native Americans, obviously, were already always here. But also the Vikings. And then there were people from Africa and even China who got here first.”
    â€œYeah, I read that too.”
    â€œIt’s more like Columbus was the last to discover America, not the first,” Stephen says with a laugh.
    â€œYeah,” I agree. “And I’ve been reading all these books from the library.” I open up one and slide it across the table to him. “Did you know he kidnapped all these people and he would cut off their ears or nose or something and send them back to their village as an example?” I point to one of the illustrations. “They basically just took anything they wanted.”
    Stephen reads along in the book. “Exactly: food, gold . . .