him. After his mother went to sleep that night, he tried to carry the windows up the ladder by himself. But they were too heavy. So, Christopher stashed them away and tried to fit the roof, but it was impossible with only one person. He had reached the limit of what one kid could do. The minute he stopped building, his headache returned with a vengeance.
And the nice man was nowhere to be seen.
The next day in school, Christopher found his friends in homeroom.
“The roof is a four-man job. I can’t finish alone,” he begged.
“Dude, we told you. We’re grounded,” Mike said, exasperated.
“Yeah, Chris. Leave us alone. You’re being crazy,” Special Ed said. “And you look terrible. Get some sleep.”
Christopher looked over at Matt, the one person he knew he could count on. Matt quietly looked down at his desk.
“Matt?” he said.
“Leave my brother alone,” Mike said.
“Let him answer for himself,” Christopher said to Mike.
Mike had twenty pounds on him, but Christopher didn’t care. The two boys squared off. Matt didn’t want a fight to break out.
“Sit down, guys. We’re already in trouble,” Matt said.
Christopher turned to Matt. He looked him dead in the eye.
“Are you going to help me or not?”
Matt was silent. He looked up at his brother.
“No, Chris. I’m sorry.”
The headache forced the words out of Christopher’s mouth before he even thought them.
“Fuck you then,” he said.
The minute he said it, he felt ashamed. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. By the end of the day, Christopher’s head was screaming. It didn’t matter that he snuck his mother’s Excedrin into school and ate them all day like candy. It didn’t even matter that the final period of the day was canceled so all the kids could go outside to the playground for the special event. Christopher’s head would not stop hurting.
Not even for Balloon Derby.
He looked around the playground at all the kids in their winter coats and hats. Each of them held a different-colored balloon with a little card attached to the end of a string. Mrs. Henderson told them all to write their names on the card with the school’s contact information. Whoever’s balloon traveled the farthest got the prize. The kids would find out the last day of school before Christmas break. He suddenly remembered Mrs. Keizer sneaking up on him in the hospital, screaming, “Death is coming! Death is here! We’ll die on Christmas Day!”
Don’t cry.
The pain in his head was so terrible. He was never going to finish the tree house. So, either Bad Cat was going to hurt his mother, or he was completely insane.
Don’t cry.
Christopher tried to shake off the pain and just write his name. But the first tear hit the card and smudged the pencil.
Stop crying, you baby.
But he couldn’t. He just hid himself behind the slide, put his throbbing head in his hands, and began to sob. After a moment, he felt a shadow cut across his eyelids. He looked up and saw Matt put a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Chris?”
Christopher couldn’t speak. He just kept crying. Mike and Special Ed ran up next.
“What happened?” Mike asked. “Was it Brady? I’ll kill him.”
Christopher shook his head. No, it wasn’t Brady. Special Ed looked around. A little paranoid.
“Well, stand up. You don’t want Brady to see you crying, right?”
The boys helped him to his feet. Then, he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.
“I’m sorry,” Christopher said. “I didn’t mean to swear at you. I didn’t mean to get you guys in trouble.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Matt said.
“Yeah. Our moms aren’t so mad anymore,” Mike added.
“Yeah, my mom thinks I’m a genius now,” Special Ed exclaimed. “Plus, we got to spend a whole night camping out by ourselves. Win win.”
“So, will you guys help me finish it?”
“Why is it so important to you?” Matt asked.
“Because it’s our place. Because we’re the Avengers,” Christopher said, knowing they would never believe the truth.
The blacktop got quiet. The boys thought a minute.
“Okay, Chris,” Special Ed said. “We’ll help you.”
“Of course,” Matt agreed. “But we have to figure out how. We’re still grounded.”
“What if we skipped school?” Mike proposed.
“I can’t skip,” Special Ed said, quickly embracing his new academic success. “If I get an A on a test this year, my dad said he’d get me Showtime in my room. Showtime has a lot of naked ladies.”
“What if we all pretend to be sick?” Matt offered.