The Mealworm Diaries by Anna Kerz

arm. The man tugged on the kite string, pulling gently, this way and that, until the kite floated free, right down into the waiting arms of the boy.
    An unexpected wave of feeling hit Jeremy. The muscles in his face stretched, his jaw tightened and he found himself blinking away tears that stung the back of his eyes.
    â€œOh, Jeremy!” his mother said. “We don’t have to go.”
    â€œWhat?” He recognized the sound of worry. “What?” he said again.
    â€œWe can stay with Milly. She’s invited her daughters and their families, and she said we’re welcome to join them. So if you’d rather stay here, we don’t have to go home for Thanksgiving. Nana and Grampa will understand.”
    â€œThanksgiving?” Jeremy stared at his mother. What was she talking about?
    â€œNana phoned last night and asked if we wanted to come. We could leave a couple of days early and make a small holiday of it. We won’t have time for another one until Christmas. I thought I’d ask you before I said yes. But we don’t have to go. We can stay here if you’d rather.”
    A peacock’s haunting cry drifted up from the animal pens at the edge of the park. “No,” he said, “I want to go. I do.” He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he thought it was what his mother wanted to hear.

THIRTEEN
    â€œI do not! I do not!” Aaron’s shrill voice rang out as Jeremy and Horace rounded the corner of the school. They almost bumped into Tufan. The bigger boy was towering over Aaron, one hand on the wall above Aaron’s head, his face spitting close.
    â€œI do not. I do not,” Tufan mimicked in a screechy voice.
    â€œI do not!” Aaron shouted again, but his voice cracked with frustration, and Tufan laughed.
    This doesn’t look good, Jeremy thought, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
    â€œCome on,” Horace said. “It’s none of our business.”
    Jeremy hesitated before he followed. “Wonder what Aaron did this time?”
    Horace shrugged. “Who knows. Aaron can piss anybody off just by looking at them.”
    â€œJer? Jer-e-my?”
    Jeremy looked back. The pleading look on Aaron’s face stopped him.
    â€œI-I wanna play. I wanna play soccer baseball,” Aaron called. “Tell him to let me. Tell him.”
    â€œI-I-I don’t think so!” Tufan mimicked. “We’re not having any bed pizzers on our team. Not one.”
    A sharp pain twisted in Jeremy’s belly.
    â€œI told you I don’t. I don’t! I don’t!” Aaron’s voice rose until his words turned into a painfully high-pitched howl that made Tufan step back.
    â€œShut up,” he growled. “Shut up before a teacher hears.”
    â€œToo late for that,” Mr. Collins said as he stepped around the corner of the school. “What’s going on?”
    Tufan twirled his finger beside his head and smiled a twisted smile. “I dunno. This guy’s just plain crazy.”
    â€œTry again, Tufan,” Mr. Collins said.
    â€œNothing’s going on, really. We were just talking about soccer baseball. Right, Jeremy?”
    Startled to be included, Jeremy looked at Tufan and then back at the teacher.
    â€œWe just got here,” Horace jumped in.
    â€œAaron?” Mr. Collins said.
    Aaron had stopped screaming when the teacher arrived, but now he began banging his body against the wall in a steady beat that had to hurt.
    Mr. Collins walked over and put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “Aaron,” he said firmly. “Stand still and tell me what’s going on.”
    Aaron shuddered and closed his eyes, but he stopped the body-banging.
    Jeremy expected Aaron to be silent after all that. Probably Tufan did too, because he looked surprised when Aaron said, “I wanna play soccer baseball with the other guys.” Then he pointed at Tufan and shouted, “And he says I