difficult and dangerous?"
Ced looked away and shook his head.
At dinner, they served meatballs. Ced hadn't eaten much real meat before, but he'd had enough to know he liked it. He'd only taken two bites when the boy appeared at his table and speared one of his meatballs.
"What are you doing?" Ced said.
"Eating." The boy took a big bite, smearing his mouth red. "What's it look like?"
"That's mine."
He chewed some more. "Evidence suggests otherwise."
One of his friends smirked down at Ced. "You're such a fish."
"Huh?" Ced said.
"Letting him punk you. You don't deserve to eat." The second boy grabbed a meatball with his bare hand and walked off.
Ced looked around for help, but the only person who was watching was a girl a couple years older than him. She had dark hair and eyes he'd swear were silver. Face burning, he looked down at his half-empty plate.
Someone sat down across from him. His heart leaped, but it wasn't the boy who'd been menacing him. This boy was about Ced's age, wearing the same drab, gray clothing.
"That's Dapp." The boy gazed at the ground. "Best to give him what he wants. If you try to fight back, he'll just take more."
A finger of heat poked into Ced's belly. "Why don't they stop him?"
The boy started to say something, then sighed and walked away.
After dinner, Ced went to Benson's office. He had to wait in reception for forty minutes until Benson was free.
"Someone's taking my food at meals," Ced said. "His name is Dapp."
Benson stared like Ced had told him he'd seen a leprechaun in the bathroom."So?"
"So it's mine! I'm hungry!"
"Then do something about it. This is the Locker. You're on a crew. If you're going to survive out on the street, you have to learn to protect what's yours."
The finger of heat poked Ced again, digging deeper into his stomach until he thought he might puke. As he headed to his room, he grew angrier than he'd ever been. He didn't know where it had come from, or why he was feeling mad now instead of when Dapp was gobbling down meatballs.
But it felt kind of good.
The next morning, as he got his breakfast, Ced scanned the cafeteria. Dapp was with his friends and they were already glancing at Ced. Ced got his food and sat. Footsteps came up behind him.
"Hey fish—"
He stood, whirling his tray through the air, spraying hot coffee and mush over Dapp. Dapp swatted at a mug. Ced swung the side of his tray into Dapp's temple as hard as he could.
Dapp flinched and fell, crying out. Tears sprung up in his eyes. Kids of all ages bolted from their seats, rushing toward the action like the carp in ponds when you threw bread in the water. Seeing all their eyes on him, their smiles and their laughter, Dapp's tan face went bright red.
As he moved to stand, Ced hit him in the head again. And again. Dapp threw up his arms, flailing at the tray, but Ced smashed him in the fingers and Dapp pulled his hands away. Revealing his head. Which Ced hit another time. Dapp's eyes rolled. The next hit, blood popped from his nose like a firework.
Ced's feet swooped from the ground. Strong arms carried him away. He kicked out, trying to reach Dapp with his toe, but Dapp was sprawled out, unmoving. A sea of faces watched Ced get carried away. He only saw two: Dapp, unconscious, and the girl with the silver eyes. She was smiling.
So was he.
* * *
This time, Benson wasn't seated on the window. He was behind his desk and his eyes were as serious as an old dog's. "Do you have any idea what you've done ?"
"Yep," Ced said. "I beat the crap out of him."
"You put him in the hospital. Gave him a concussion. Why did you do that?"
"Because he was a punk fish who was stealing my food."
Benson burst out laughing, then covered his mouth with his hand. "You can't do this sort of thing. You can't beat someone with a tray."
"You told me you wouldn't help me. That I had to look out for myself. So I did."
"Next time, try to do so without knocking out quite so many teeth." Benson sighed
Ced looked away and shook his head.
At dinner, they served meatballs. Ced hadn't eaten much real meat before, but he'd had enough to know he liked it. He'd only taken two bites when the boy appeared at his table and speared one of his meatballs.
"What are you doing?" Ced said.
"Eating." The boy took a big bite, smearing his mouth red. "What's it look like?"
"That's mine."
He chewed some more. "Evidence suggests otherwise."
One of his friends smirked down at Ced. "You're such a fish."
"Huh?" Ced said.
"Letting him punk you. You don't deserve to eat." The second boy grabbed a meatball with his bare hand and walked off.
Ced looked around for help, but the only person who was watching was a girl a couple years older than him. She had dark hair and eyes he'd swear were silver. Face burning, he looked down at his half-empty plate.
Someone sat down across from him. His heart leaped, but it wasn't the boy who'd been menacing him. This boy was about Ced's age, wearing the same drab, gray clothing.
"That's Dapp." The boy gazed at the ground. "Best to give him what he wants. If you try to fight back, he'll just take more."
A finger of heat poked into Ced's belly. "Why don't they stop him?"
The boy started to say something, then sighed and walked away.
After dinner, Ced went to Benson's office. He had to wait in reception for forty minutes until Benson was free.
"Someone's taking my food at meals," Ced said. "His name is Dapp."
Benson stared like Ced had told him he'd seen a leprechaun in the bathroom."So?"
"So it's mine! I'm hungry!"
"Then do something about it. This is the Locker. You're on a crew. If you're going to survive out on the street, you have to learn to protect what's yours."
The finger of heat poked Ced again, digging deeper into his stomach until he thought he might puke. As he headed to his room, he grew angrier than he'd ever been. He didn't know where it had come from, or why he was feeling mad now instead of when Dapp was gobbling down meatballs.
But it felt kind of good.
The next morning, as he got his breakfast, Ced scanned the cafeteria. Dapp was with his friends and they were already glancing at Ced. Ced got his food and sat. Footsteps came up behind him.
"Hey fish—"
He stood, whirling his tray through the air, spraying hot coffee and mush over Dapp. Dapp swatted at a mug. Ced swung the side of his tray into Dapp's temple as hard as he could.
Dapp flinched and fell, crying out. Tears sprung up in his eyes. Kids of all ages bolted from their seats, rushing toward the action like the carp in ponds when you threw bread in the water. Seeing all their eyes on him, their smiles and their laughter, Dapp's tan face went bright red.
As he moved to stand, Ced hit him in the head again. And again. Dapp threw up his arms, flailing at the tray, but Ced smashed him in the fingers and Dapp pulled his hands away. Revealing his head. Which Ced hit another time. Dapp's eyes rolled. The next hit, blood popped from his nose like a firework.
Ced's feet swooped from the ground. Strong arms carried him away. He kicked out, trying to reach Dapp with his toe, but Dapp was sprawled out, unmoving. A sea of faces watched Ced get carried away. He only saw two: Dapp, unconscious, and the girl with the silver eyes. She was smiling.
So was he.
* * *
This time, Benson wasn't seated on the window. He was behind his desk and his eyes were as serious as an old dog's. "Do you have any idea what you've done ?"
"Yep," Ced said. "I beat the crap out of him."
"You put him in the hospital. Gave him a concussion. Why did you do that?"
"Because he was a punk fish who was stealing my food."
Benson burst out laughing, then covered his mouth with his hand. "You can't do this sort of thing. You can't beat someone with a tray."
"You told me you wouldn't help me. That I had to look out for myself. So I did."
"Next time, try to do so without knocking out quite so many teeth." Benson sighed
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