I asked.
âMy watch shoots laser beams,â he said. âYou really think Iâm going to keep it close to my body?â
I groaned. âSo why are you squatting?â
âA guy with a laser beam watch probably has enemies.â
âSo do guys without them.â I gave him a pointed look.
On Wednesday afternoon, he remembered his basic manners, at least, but when I asked him to show up looking his best, he appeared in his regular school clothes with a bonus grease stain.
âDo you own any shirts with collars?â I asked.
âMy pajama top,â he said. âDo you wantââ
âNo.â I pointed at his jeans. âHow about any nice pants?â
âThese are my nice pants,â Ryan said.
âBut you wrote on them.â I studied a leg closer. âAnd drew half a bird sticking out of a catâs mouth.â
âInspired by real life,â he informed me. âSee, there was this chewed-upââ
I held out a hand. âLook at my face. Do I look like I want to hear more?â I had him sit in a chair. âLetâs talk about reading people.â
Ryan grinned confidently. âThatâll be easy.My aunt has a subscription.â
I shook my head. âNot People the magazine.â I pointed to him and me. âPeople. You need to watch how they react to your behavior.â
âWhy?â
âBecause itâll keep you from getting punched.â I opened my arms. âTalk to me like you usually would, and watch my face. What are you doing for Christmas?â
Ryan scowled.
âOkay, see, that topic clearly makes you unhappy.â I gestured at his expression. âSo Iâll switch to something else.â
But Ryan wasnât ready to. âLet me guess. You and your family are gonna sit around the tree, opening presents by the fire while you laugh and hug.â
âWell,â I said slowly, âwe donât typically light the tree on fire. But yeah, weâll open presentsand spend time together.â I shrugged. âJust a normal family Christmas.â
âNormal.â Ryanâs scowl deepened. âMy aunt has to work on Christmas, so I spend the day by myself. Guess weâre freaks, huh?â
I shook my head. âI didnât mean it like that.â
âI usually get one or two presents. How many do you get?â
âOkay, nowâs the time to notice Iâm uncomfortable.â I pointed to myself. âCould we talk about something else please?â
âYou brought it up,â Ryan grumbled.
âAnd I wish I hadnât.â
Still, my incident with Ryan stayed with me, and at lunch on Thursday, I asked my friends, âAre you guys thinking about how much a gift costs before you suggest it? Some people canât afford much.â
Vanessa tilted her hand from side to side. âIâmkeeping it in Coach range.â
I wrinkled my forehead. âWhat does that mean?â
âNot too cheap, but not too expensive,â she explained. âLike a Coach wristlet.â
âIâm also keeping it in Coach range,â said Brooke.
At surprised looks from the rest of us, she grinned and said, âWhat Iâd spend on a gift for my soccer coach.â
We all groaned, and I threw a cracker at her. She caught it in one hand and crammed it into her mouth.
Heather hadnât spoken up yet, too intent on devouring the fried chicken sheâd just sat down with.
âYou know, nobodyâs going to steal that from you,â I said as she gnawed a drumstick.
Heather blushed and held a hand in front of her mouth. âSorry, but I skipped breakfast thismorning to get to choir practice early. And I really canât function without pancakes, eggs, turkey bacon, fruit, potatoes . . .â
âHow are you not the size of Santa Claus?â marveled Brooke.
Heather smirked at her. âAnyway, to answer your question, Tim, Iâve been