weâre working with?â
He crossed his arms. âI sent the original video to my computer using email.â
His email. It turned out I was the one who was pretty stupid.
I groaned and rubbed my forehead. âI didnât even think of that.â
Ryan leaned forward. âAnd the password is only available up here.â He tapped his skull. âYou canât get rid of the video, and I can pull it up whenever I want.â
I stepped toward him. âLook, Ryan . . .â
âIâm giving you a warning.â He pointed at me. âBut only because you kept me out of trouble with my aunt. If you ever mess with my stuff again, Iâll make sure the original video goes not just to the school but to the entire world.â Ryan got up and gestured to the desk chair. âNow reset my password and finish cleaning this room.â
Without another word, he picked up his jar of spiders and left.
And I was right back where Iâd started.
I worked straight through the morning and half the afternoon to get the room looking decent. Ryan saw it and grunted, but I took thatto mean he was satisfied, so I crossed it off my list. Three down, two to go.
When I called Mom to pick me up, I asked her to bring a foot-long sub and a bottle of hand sanitizer. She didnât even ask why. I guess having a son who plays sports will do that to you.
While I waited I retrieved my backpack, and Ryan weighed it down with his homework.
âIâm really good at Spanish, so donât mess up,â he said, passing me the bag.
âBut I donât know any Spanish,â I said, shrugging it onto my shoulders.
âYouâve got until Monday to learn,â said Ryan. He turned me around and pushed me toward the door. âSee ya!â
I stumbled forward and then glared back at him.
âTwo more tasks,â I muttered to myself, walking outside.
Mom pulled up a few minutes later and drovein silence while I scarfed down half the sub before taking a break.
âHow was the group project?â she asked, stopping at a light.
âGroup project? More like group blahject,â I said with a mouth full of food.
She stared at me. âReally?â
I covered my mouth. âSorry.â
âGroup blahject?â she mused. âThatâs the best you can do?â
âGroup . . . poor- ject?â I tried again.
She shook her head. âYour father would be so disappointed.â
I grinned. âAll right, you do better.â
âGroup project? More like group project . . . ile vomit,â she shot back.
I almost choked on my food. âGross! Youâve been working on that all afternoon, havenât you?â
âIâve been batting some ideas around.â Mom glanced down at my bag. âThat looks a lot heavierthan it did this morning. Like thereâs actually stuff in it this time.â
I blushed and concentrated on my food. âItâs just some books heâs letting me borrow.â
Mom patted my leg. âItâs not a crime to hang out with one of the unpopular kids. You donât have to pretend.â
I snorted. âThanks. But . . . I donât think he and I will be hanging out again anytime soon.â
âWhy, he heard your group blahject pun?â she asked, making a face.
âStop it!â I laughed and pushed her.
âHey, Iâm driving!â she said with a grin.
I settled back in my seat. âMom?â
âWhat, sweetie?â
I looked up at her and smiled. âNothing.â
She smiled back. âI love you, too.â
As soon as we made it home, I rushed upstairs and took a shower. Then I closed my bedroom room and settled down with Ryanâs Spanishhomework. I had just figured out that the Spanish word for mosquito was mosquito when there was a knock on my door, followed by the appearance of Gabby.
I covered Ryanâs book with some of my own. âHey, whatâs up?â
âUncle
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