Almost Identical #1 by Lin Oliver Page B

a secret language. (By the way, we don’t—although we both call Ryan “Ry Guy,” and neither of us can pronounce
Massachusetts
. I don’t think that qualifies as a secret language, though.)
    â€œI’m older,” Charlie said.
    â€œBut I’m wiser,” I added.
    We had given that same answer a thousand million times. It seemed to satisfy people so they could get right on to the secret language question.
    â€œWell then, Older,” the woman said, looking at Charlie, “here is your schedule. You have Ms. Hamel for homeroom. Room Thirteen, six doors down the main hall on your left. And you, Wiser,” she added, looking at me, “you have Mr. Boring in Bungalow Three.”
    â€œSeriously?” I asked. “His name is Mr. Boring?”
    Charlie and I could hardly contain our laughter.
    â€œHe’s rather sensitive about it,” the woman said. “So I suggest you get all your giggling about it over with now.”
    Then, in a tremendous surprise move, she leaned over the counter and whispered to us, “And the worst part is, he
is
a touch boring.”
    She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh and returned to her desk behind the counter. We left the office to find Lauren and Brooke standing outside, their mouths hanging open.
    â€œYou’re kidding me,” Lauren said. “You guys were laughing with Mrs. Humphrey? She never laughs.”
    â€œYeah,” added Brooke. “All she ever does is mark you late and call your parents to say you’re getting detention.”
    â€œIt’s funny you should bring this up,” Charlie said. “Sammie and I were just saying that if you’re nice to people, they’ll be nice back. I guess it even works with Mrs. Humphrey. Right, Sammie?”
    Oh, that’s very subtle, Charlie. My happy face is on duty all day. I swear.
    â€œWho do you have for homeroom?” Brooke asked Charlie.
    â€œMs. Hamel.”
    â€œOh, that’s my homeroom, too. Come on, I’ll show you the way. Are you coming, Sammie?”
    â€œNope. I’m in Bungalow Three with Mr. Boring, who I’m told is.”
    I chuckled a little at my own joke.
    â€œYou’re in my homeroom,” Lauren said without so much as a hint of a smile. “I’ll show you the way.” She seemed a little disappointed that she got me instead of Charlie. I could understand that. I had been a pretty definite jerk to her.
    Charlie and I compared schedules. We only had one class together, English with Ms. Carew. It was fifth period, right after lunch. That was great because we could go from lunch right to class together. Even though the school had a cafeteria, we had brought brown bags. Mine was a turkey sandwich, hold the mayo. I’m sure my dad had packed that himself.
    Lauren and I said good-bye to Charlie and Brooke, then turned left into the school yard where the bungalows were. It was one minute to eight, and kids were hurrying to their classrooms so they wouldn’t be late. Everyone said hi to Lauren as we crossed the yard.
    â€œListen, Lauren,” I began, in between the enthusiastic
hi
s she was saying to every other person. “I want to apologize for asking you to leave yesterday. I was just nervous about the tournament. There was a lot of pressure and everything.”
    â€œYou were kind of a you-know-what that starts with a
b
and ends with an
h
.”
    â€œI know, and I’m really sorry.”
    â€œApology accepted,” Lauren said. “Your brother said you’re not usually like that. He’s such a great guy. Did he tell you we’re hanging out after school today?”
    â€œYeah. Sure. Of course he did.”
    Actually, Ryan hadn’t said a word about it. I don’t know why I lied to Lauren, but something inside me just didn’t want her to know more about Ryan than I did.
    â€œI know he had to leave early this morning to meet the volleyball