Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie by David Lubar Page A

I watched Quarterback Vernon Dross and the rest of the Zenger Panthers fight a difficultbattle against the Hoover Hawks
. I mentioned Vernon nine times, which should keep him happy. Since guys don’t write diaries, I signed it at the end with a made-up girl’s name just for fun. The one I came up with was Ema Nekaf. I know it looks kind of fake, but I picked it for a reason. See if you can figure out why. I’ll give you a chance to think about it.
    I didn’t show it to Mom or Dad. They’d probably think it was kind of silly.
    Half the kids in school are reading
Revenge of the Mutant Zombies
. I hate Mouth. Strangling is too good for him.
    Sunday morning, I heard a crash from downstairs. I figured it was some new remodeling project. Maybe they were installing an indoor wading pool for toddlers.
    “Relax. Everything’s okay.”
    It was Mom’s voice. She didn’t sound okay.
    I went down. The coatrack was knocked over. Mom and Dad were hurrying for the garage, jackets in hand.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing,” Mom said. But her face was really pale.
    Dad looked like he’d thrown on his clothes real fast. “I’ll call and let you know what’s going on,” he said.
    A moment later, they were flying down the street in the Subaru.
    Oh man. I went up to Bobby’s room and knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, so I went in. “Wake up,” I said.
    He pulled the pillow over his head.
    “Come on. Get up.” I pushed him on the shoulder.
    “Go ‘way.” He reached out and shoved me.
    “Knock it off! This is serious.”
    “What?” The muffled voice came from under the pillow.
    I told him about Mom. When I was done, he sat up, shook his head, and said, “I knew this was a bad idea.”
    “You think she’ll be okay?”
    “Yeah. Sure.” He reached out and ruffled my hair. It felt weird. Like when you see a cat owner petting a dog.
    I went downstairs and straightened up the coatrack, then waited by the phone. I figured Bobby would come down so we could talk. But he didn’t. After a while, when I wandered back upstairs, I saw him stuffing clothes in a duffel bag.
    “What are you doing?”
    “I can’t stand this place right now.”
    “You’re leaving?”
    “I don’t need all this stress. I’ve got too much stuff to deal with already.” He zipped up the bag, then put his guitar in its case. “Got any money?”
    “Some.”
    “Can I borrow it?”
    The last thing I wanted was to help him leave. But I figured he’d go no matter what. So I gave him what I had, and he took off for the bus station.
    About forty minutes later, Dad called.
    “Everything’s fine,” he said.
    “Mom’s okay?”
    “Yeah. We saw the doctor. We’ll be home in a little bit.”
    “Good.”
    “How you doing?”
    “I’m all right.”
    I didn’t tell him anything else. He’d find out soon enough. I still couldn’t believe Bobby had split. He was acting like he was the one whose life was being turned upside down by this. But he was already almost grown up and all. I was the one who had to deal with everything.
    September 30
    No more screwing around. Okay? Whatever it was you did to send Mom to the doctor, just cut it out. None of us needs that kind of excitement around here. So stop causing trouble. You’ll get your chance later.
    On top of everything else, Mom got all upset about Bobby splitting. I still can’t believe he did it. But he’s right about one thing. There’s way too much tension around here.
    Here’s a new word for you.
Flux
. It means “change.” Right now, everything is in flux.
    You know what? Flux sux.

{ twelve }
    t rick or treat.
    It was only the beginning of October, but when the new girl walked into homeroom, I thought she was made up for Halloween. She’d chopped her hair short and dyed it green. I guess she did it herself. I can’t imagine paying anyone for a haircut like that. And she’d stuck pins in her face. Not just earrings or nose rings, though she had plenty of those. She also had