The Thing About Leftovers by C.C. Payne Page B

under her shoe. Miyoko must not have noticed, though, because she didn’t move.
    I knew that losing her marble would upset Miyoko even though I didn’t really know her, because it’s obvious to everyone that she’s a very serious student. In addition to science, we also have math and gym/health class together. Miyoko’s not much better than I am at gym, but she tries a lot harder—and never forgets her gym shoes. Also she sometimes asks health questions that stump Coach Bryant—he always says, “Uh . . . I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
    When Mr. Moss stopped talking, the room suddenly fell silent and everyone looked up at him. “Well?” he said. “What are you waiting for? We only have ten more minutes! Get to work!” As if
he’d
been waiting for
us
to stop talking this whole time. Right.
    Miyoko moved things around on her table and bent to look underneath it, while Ada worked on her experiment and paid no attention to Miyoko.
    I tapped Miyoko on the shoulder to get her attention and then crawled under Ada’s table and retrieved the marble from under her bedazzled shoe.
    Ada gave me a surprised look, as if to say,
Oh, I had no idea that was there!
    I gave her a squinty look back to let her know that I knew better.
    I placed the marble on the table in front of Miyoko, who looked at me like I’d just placed Julia Child’s famous beef bourguignon in front of her when she was starving to death—I thought she might cry. Since I’m against tears at school, I immediately dropped Miyoko’s gaze and hurried back to my table.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Miyoko sat beside me that afternoon during our health lesson, which was only fifteen minutes long, because Coach Bryant thought fresh air and exercise were way better for us than sitting around in the dank locker room where he had to teach health. We spent the remainder of our class time outside, but at least we were free to do what we wanted. I’d brought my cookbook—and my coat—just in case.
    It wasn’t as cold as it had been this morning, but the sky was still the color of oysters, which made me hope for more snow. I sat down with my book beneath the big sugar maple that had turned bright candy-apple red back in October. I love candy apples.
Hey, maybe Aunt Liz and I can make some this afternoon, just for fun,
I thought.
    Miyoko wandered over then and squatted beside me on the grass—she’d brought her coat to health class, too, I noticed. Miyoko had the same kind of dark, shiny hair as Aunt Liz— except that it was stick straight—with almond eyes and a perfectly straight nose. She was pretty, maybe the prettiest girl in the whole sixth grade. I smiled at her.
    Miyoko smiled back.
    â€œI’m Fizzy,” I said.
    Miyoko nodded. “Thanks for this morning, Fizzy—with the marble.”
    â€œSure. Hey, can I ask you something?”
    Miyoko nodded again.
    â€œDoes Coach Bryant ever get back to you on your health questions?”
    â€œNever.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought.”
    â€œBut he always gives me an A in health,” Miyoko offered.
    â€œWell, he kind of
has
to, doesn’t he?” I said. “I mean, you know more than he does.”
    â€œI think most people do, don’t you?” Miyoko said.
    We both laughed.
    After that, despite the fact that my behind was going numb from sitting on the cold ground, I felt something digging into it. I thought it was probably a rock and stood up to look. But there wasn’t any rock. I felt my back pockets. There was something in one of them. I reached into it and pulled out a gigantic black spider.
    Now, even though I should’ve known the spider wasn’t real—and I sort of did—I threw it down like it was the deadliest spider known to man.
    Miyoko gasped and sprung up to a standing position.
    I laughed a nervous little laugh and picked up the