There's a Boy in the Girls' Bathroom by Louis Sachar


  “I do,” said Jeff. He shrugged again. “I guess it’s like a reflex. Like when you go to the doctor and he taps your knee, you have to kick. You can’t help it. It’s the same thing. When someone says hello to me, I always have to say hello back.”

  Bradley tried to make sense out of what Jeff said. “I know what you can do,” he suggested. “The next time one of those girls says hello to you—kick her!”

  11.

  A week later they still hadn’t gone into the girls’ bathroom. Jeff always had a good reason why it wasn’t the right time. Recess was the wrong time, because it would be better to wait until after lunch, after the girls had eaten. Lunch was no good, because they hadn’t had time to digest their food. Listening to Jeff, it would seem that girls never had to go to the bathroom.

  But Bradley had never been happier. He was thrilled to have a friend. He even was beginning to like school.

  Jeff had two gold stars next to his name. Bradley felt proud when he looked at them, almost like he had earned them himself.

  “What do you want to do?” Jeff asked.

  “Nothing,” said Bradley.

  It was lunchtime. They had finished eating and were sitting out on the grass.

  “Did the counselor say anything stupid today?”

  Bradley asked.

  Jeff hesitated. He looked down at the ground, then boldly stated, “I like her.”

  Bradley was shocked.

  “She said that I can like her even if you hate her,” Jeff asserted. “It doesn’t mean that you and I can’t still be friends. We don’t have to agree on everything. She said friendships are stronger when everyone has different opinions to share.”

  “You told her I hated her?” Bradley asked.

  Jeff nodded.

  “Good.”

  “Except she didn’t believe me,” said Jeff.

  “She’s weird,” said Bradley. “She never believes anything anyone says. I’m not going to see her anymore.”

  “She said you don’t have to. I told her you wouldn’t show up today and she said that was okay. She said you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  Bradley turned and looked back toward the school, in the direction of the counselor’s office. “That’s one of her tricks,” he said.

  “So what do you want to do?” Jeff asked.

  “Nothing.”

  A basketball bounced away from the basketball court and rolled toward them. Jeff jumped up and grabbed it.

  “Hey, Fishnose, over here!” called Robbie, a boy from their class.

  “Kick it the other way,” urged Bradley.

  Jeff threw the ball all the way on a fly to Robbie.

  “You should have kicked it onto the roof,” said Bradley.

  “Maybe they’ll let us play,” said Jeff. “Let’s ask them.”

  Bradley shook his head. “No, I don’t want to.”

  Jeff watched the boys play basketball for a moment, then sat back down with Bradley.

  “Uh-oh,” Bradley said. “Here come those girls again. Try not to say hello to them.”

  “Hello, Jeff,” said Lori.

  “Hello,” said Jeff.

  “Hi,” said Melinda.

  “Hi,” said Jeff.

  “Hi, Jeff,” whispered Colleen.

  “Hi,” whispered Jeff.

  Lori laughed as the three girls walked away.

  Jeff shrugged. “I can’t help it,” he said sadly.

  “Let’s go beat them up!” said Bradley. “Then they won’t say hello to you anymore.” He started after them, but Jeff didn’t follow. “C’mon,” Bradley urged. “Girls are easy to beat up. You just have to hit them once, and they cry and run away.”

  “Not now,” said Jeff.

  “Why not?”

  “Everyone will see us. We’ll get in trouble.”

  Bradley stopped. “You’re right,” he agreed. “We’ll get them after school.”

  “I can’t,” said Jeff. “I’ve got to go right home after school and do my homework.”

  Bradley was beginning to get fed up. “How come you’re always doing your homework?” he asked, hands on hips. He said the word homework the way other people might say the word manure.

  Jeff shrugged.

  “Do you like doing it?” Bradley asked.

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind too much.”

  Bradley kicked at the ground. “Do you think if I did my homework, Mrs. Ebbel might give me a gold star?” he asked.

  “I don’t think she gives gold stars just for doing homework,” said Jeff. “But she might!”

  “Maybe I should do it sometime,” said Bradley.

  “Why don’t you come over after school today?” Jeff asked. “We can do our homework together.”

  Bradley’s face twisted in anguish. “Today? I don’t think today’s a good day to do homework.”

  “I can help y—” Jeff started to say, then stopped. “You can help me with the stuff I don’t understand.”

  “All right!” said Bradley. “I’ll do it!”

  “Good!” said Jeff.

  “First, we’ll beat up those girls,” said Bradley, “then we’ll go to your house and do our homework.”

  12.

  Just before the end of the lunch period, someone knocked very lightly on the door to the counselor’s office.

  “Come in,” said Carla.

  A girl timidly stepped inside. “Are you Miss Davis?” she asked.

  “Yes, but I prefer to be called Carla.”

  “Do I have to tell you my name?” asked the girl.

  “No, not if you don’t want to.”

  “Colleen Verigold,” said the girl. She sat down in one of the chairs around the round table and said, “I don’t know who to invite to my birthday party.”

  Carla remained standing.

  “See, there’s this boy I want to invite,” said Colleen.

  “Do I have to tell you his name?”

  “No.”

  “Jeff Fishkin.” Carla smiled.

  “But if I invite Jeff, then I’ll have to invite another boy, because I can’t invite seven girls and only one boy, can I?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Except Jeff has only one friend and he’s the most horrible, rotten boy in the whole school! I can’t invite Bradley Chalkers to my birthday party, I just can’t!” She took a breath. “So what should I do?”

  “You want me to tell you whom to invite to your birthday party?”

  “Lori says you’re good at solving problems.”

  “Lori solves her own problems. I just help her think for herself.”

  “But I don’t know what to think!” Colleen exclaimed. “I can’t invite seven girls and only one boy. And I can’t invite Bradley!”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “November thirteenth.”

  “Then you still have plenty of time,” said Carla. “Let me give you a form for your parents to sign. Right now, I’m not even allowed to talk to you without your parents’ permission.”

  “That’s dumb!”

  “No it isn’t,” said Carla. “Some parents don’t want strangers giving advice to their children.”

  “But my parents won’t care,” said Colleen. “They said I can invite anybody I want to my birthday party.”

  “That’s not the point,” said Carla. She handed her the form.

  Colleen reluctantly took it. “Can’t you just whisper it to me?” she asked.

  Carla shook her head.

  Melinda and Lori were waiting for Colleen when she came out. “Who are you going to invite?” asked Melinda.

  “Not Bradley,” said Lori. “Please, not Bradley.”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Colleen. “She won’t tell me until my parents sign this form.”

  13.

  Bradley dragged his feet as he walked to Carla’s office.

  She was waiting in the hall for him. “It’s a pleasure to see you today,” she said. “I appreciate yo
ur coming to see me.” She held out her hand.

  He stepped past her and sat down at the round table. She sat across from him.

  “The reason the President doesn’t wear a hat is because the doorways are too low,” he said. “He used to wear one, but every time he walked through a door, he’d hit his hat and it would fall on the floor.”

  “That makes sense,” Carla agreed. “Thank you for sharing that with me. But,” she whispered, “I thought you weren’t allowed to tell me such top secret information.”

  “The President says he trusts you,” said Bradley. “Thank you, Bradley,” said Carla. “I’m glad you trust me.”

  He looked at her as if he thought she were deaf. He hadn’t said he trusted her. He had said the President trusted her, but he decided to let it go.

  She was wearing a yellow shirt with large green triangular buttons all the way down the front. On one side of the buttons was a big white exclamation point. On the other side, there was a big white question mark.

  “Jeff trusts you too,” he said.

  “I understand you two have become friends,” said Carla.

  “We’re best friends.”

  “That’s wonderful,” said Carla.

  “Today, after school, we’re going to do our homework together. At his house! I’m going to help him with the stuff he doesn’t understand.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” said Carla. “I’m sure Jeff appreciates having you as a friend.”

  “I’m his only friend,” said Bradley.

  “But even if he had other friends—”

  “He won’t have any other friends,” Bradley interrupted.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes I do. I’m his only friend.”

  “But suppose he makes new friends?”

  “I don’t want him to.”

  “But if he made new friends, then his new friends could become your friends too.”

  “He won’t,” said Bradley, shaking his head.

  “Just because you and he are friends, that doesn’t mean he can’t have other friends too,” said Carla.

  “Yes it does.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” he said proudly. “So long as Jeff is friends with me, nobody else will like him!”

  14.

  Homework. After school Bradley Chalkers was going to go to Jeff Fishkin’s house, and they were going to do their homework together. Bradley couldn’t believe it. Homework. It was all he thought about as he sat at his desk—last seat, last row—and waited for school to end. Maybe it won’t be too horrible, he reasoned. After all, Jeff always does his homework. He must like it.

  The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Homework: Work you do at home. Except he wouldn’t do it at his home, he would do it at Jeff’s home, and that was even better. It would be his first time over at Jeff’s house.

  And after he did his homework, Mrs. Ebbel might give him a gold star. Instead of scribbling, he drew little stars, one after another until the bell rang.

  But first they had to beat up those girls.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” he said, hopping out of his seat.

  “Just a sec,” said Jeff. He got a book from his desk.

  “Oh, do I need one of those?” Bradley asked. He hadn’t realized that in order to do his homework, he would need to bring his book home.

  “That’s okay, we can share mine.”

  They walked outside. There was a light drizzle.

  “They’re in Mrs. Sharp’s class,” said Bradley. “We can wait here until they come out, then sneak up behind them.”

  “Who?”

  “Those girls. We have to beat them up so they won’t say hello to you.”

  “We should probably get started on our homework right away,” said Jeff.

  “It won’t take long,” Bradley assured him. “You just have to hit them once, and they cry and run away.”

  “But it’s raining,” said Jeff. It was barely misting.

  “Good! We can push them in the mud and get their clothes dirty. Girls hate it when their clothes get dirty.”

  They stood about ten yards away from Mrs. Sharp’s door and waited. Several kids came out, but they didn’t see Colleen, Lori, or Melinda.

  “Maybe they’ve already gone home,” Jeff said hopefully.

  “No, girls always take a long time to leave class,” Bradley explained. “First, they have to put their papers neatly in their notebooks. Then they have to mark their places in their books and put all their pencils in their pencil holders. Then they put everything away, neatly, in their desks.” He said it as though it was the most disgusting thing anyone could do. “Shh! Here they come.”

  Melinda, followed by Colleen and Lori, came out of Mrs. Sharp’s room.

  Bradley put his finger to his lips, then he and Jeff walked after them, keeping their distance. They followed the girls around the side of the building and along the sidewalk away from the school.

  “Let’s just go home,” said Jeff. “The homework might take a long time.”

  “Girls kick,” warned Bradley. “They don’t know how to punch, so they try to kick you.” He quickened his pace until he was just a few steps behind the girls. Jeff lagged a little behind.

  Lori was the first to turn around. “E-uuu, Bradley Chalkers!” she said, making a face.

  “Lori Loudmouth,” snapped Bradley. “The ugliest girl in school!”

  Melinda and Colleen stopped walking and turned around too.

  “Grow up, Bradley,” said Melinda.

  “Make me,” he replied.

  “Hello, Jeff,” Colleen said very quietly.

  “Hello,” said Jeff.

  “Quit saying hello to him!” said Bradley.

  “It’s a free country,” said Lori. “We can say hello.”

  “Not to us!” said Bradley.

  “We didn’t say hello to you!” said Lori. “Just him! Hello, Jeff.”

  “Hello,” said Jeff.

  Lori laughed.

  “Why don’t you just leave us alone, Bradley,” said Melinda.

  “No. You leave us alone first!” Bradley said, and he pushed Melinda.

  She pushed him back. He pushed her again. She shoved him off the sidewalk.

  He slipped on the wet grass and fell to the ground. Lori laughed hysterically.

  Bradley scrambled angrily to his feet. “You got my clothes dirty!”

  “Bradley wet his pants!” teased Lori, hiding behind Melinda.

  “Shut up!” he yelled.

  “You started it,” said Melinda.

  “I’ll punch your face in,” said Bradley. He shook his fist at her.

  Melinda raised her fists in the air.

  He charged toward her, then kicked her in the leg.

  She slugged him in the face with all her might.

  Bradley stumbled backward and almost fell again, but caught his balance.

  He glared at Melinda as his eyes swelled with tears.

  “No fair! Four against one!” he shouted, then ran home crying.

  15.

  “My poor baby,” said Bradley’s mother as she wrapped her massive arms around him.

  He had stopped crying shortly after he ran away from Melinda, but started again when he saw his mother. “They beat me up and threw me in the mud,” he sobbed.

  His mother wiped his face with a tissue she kept rolled up in her shirt sleeve. “Come on,” she said, and led him by the hand, down the hall to the bathroom. “You’ll take a nice warm bath, put on clean clothes, and feel good as new.”

  Claudia was in the bathroom, combing her hair. “What happened to him?”

  “Some bullies picked on him after school.”

  “There were four of them,” said Bradley. “And they ripped up my homework too!”

  “You’ve been crying!” Claudia accused.

  “That’s the rain,” said Bradley.

  Claudia started to say something but her mother told her to leave the
bathroom. She laid out clean clothes on the bathroom counter, then started the water.

  After his bath, Bradley went into his bedroom.

  He was just in the nick of time!

  Ronnie the Rabbit was romping across the bed, singing “doo de-doo de-doo,” when suddenly she was lost! “Where am I?” she asked.

  Suddenly, three bad guys were chasing her. They were the Two of Spades, the Nine of Hearts, and the King of Diamonds. The King of Diamonds was the leader of the bad guys. “After her!” he yelled.

  “Help!” called Ronnie. She ran to the edge of the bed—the cliff! She was trapped. The floor was a thousand feet below. The bad guys moved in for the kill. “Let me go!” she shouted, then fell off the bed onto the floor, but that was an accident. Bradley picked her up and put her back on the edge of the bed. It never happened. There was time out.

  “What are you going to do to me?” asked Ronnie, trembling on the edge of the cliff.

  “We are going to kill you,” said the King of Diamonds.

  “Oh no you’re not!” said a voice from behind. It was Bartholomew.

  “Get him, boys,” ordered the King of Diamonds.

  The cards attacked.

  Bartholomew punched the Two of Spades in the stomach, then flipped him over his head and over the cliff. “Aaaaaaaah …” the Two of Spades yelled as he fell a thousand feet to his death. Next, Bartholomew beat up the Nine of Hearts. “Go join your friend,” he said as he threw him over the cliff too. “Aaaaaaaah,” cried the Nine.

  Now only the King of Diamonds was left. He cameat Bartholomew, swinging an axe. “I’ll chop off your head!” he sneered.

  Bartholomew ducked, then kicked the axe out of the King’s hand and punched his face in. He threw the King over the cliff too.

  Ronnie ran to Bartholomew. “You saved my life,” she said.

  “I know,” said Bartholomew.

  They kissed.

  Claudia walked into the room. “Mom’s making cookies because you got beat up,” she said. “Ooh, you’re going to have a black eye.”

  “I didn’t get beat up,” Bradley declared. “I beat them up. I gave one kid two black eyes, and another boy three.”

  “You can’t give somebody three black eyes,” said Claudia.

  “Shut up!” said Bradley. “Or I’ll give you four black eyes.”

 
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