Zero to Hero by Lin Oliver Page B

did not want to hear anything positive about that little squirt. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought began to hatch — a thought that he was going to change Ruby’s opinion of Billy Broccoli.
    He decided to start right then and there with a list of everything that was wrong with Billy, beginning with his short stature and moving on to his clumsy feet. But before he could get out a full sentence, Sofia interrupted him.
    “Ruby, we have to go,” she said. “Mom said we have to be home by five o’clock, which was ten minutes ago. Sorry to play and run, Breeze.”
    “That’s okay,” Breeze answered. “Now that you’re in the band, we’ll have lots of time to hang out when we rehearse.”
    Sofia and Ruby said good-bye to Breeze, leaving Rod standing there feeling frustrated that he hadn’t gotten Ruby to fall madly in love with him.
    “Who’s in the mood for flank steak?” Dr. Fielding asked as he came into the kitchen to get the meat out of the refrigerator.
    “Me,” Breeze answered. “I’m starving.”
    “I thought you were a vegetarian, sweetie.”
    “That was yesterday, Dad.”
    “Oh, I see. Well, the fire’s all ready. I just came in here to get the steaks.”
    “I guess I should go, then,” Rod said. “I don’t want to interrupt your dinnertime.”
    “Nonsense, young Rod.” Bennett put a hand on his shoulder and gave him the comforting squeeze he had perfected in his years of being a dentist. “You’re welcome to stay. There’s plenty of food. Billy isn’t much of a meat eater.”
    “His favorite food is potato chip sandwiches,” Breeze said. “Oh, and he likes to eat olives off the tips of his fingers. He’s what you call majorly weird. And let’s not forget the tonsil.”
    “He eats tonsils?” Rod asked.
    “Not that I know of,” Breeze said. “But I wouldn’t put it past him. He keeps his own tonsil in a jar under his bed. Yesterday, he actually tried to display it on the countertop in the bathroom we share, but I said, ‘No way, José…. I’m not putting on my makeup staring at something that used to be in your throat.’ ”
    “How old is that tonsil?” Rod asked.
    “Beats me. Five years old. Maybe seven.”
    “I believe Charlotte mentioned Billy had his tonsils removed when he was six,” Dr. Fielding said. “That would make it five years old. It’s almost ready to start kindergarten.” He laughed heartily at his own joke.
    “It must look gross,” Rod said.
    “The human body isn’t gross, Rod,” Dr. Fielding said. “It’s fascinating. Now, if there were still pus on the tonsil, I could understand your reaction. But the tonsil itself is just a ballof tissue made up of blood and cells and protoplasm. Not entirely different from the steaks we’re having for dinner.”
    “Eeuuwww, Dad,” Breeze said. “I think I just became a vegetarian again.”
    “Rod, why don’t you call your mother and ask if you can stay for dinner,” Dr. Fielding said as he headed toward the back door with the plate of steaks. “And, Breeze, get Billy and tell him the food will be on the table in seven minutes…. Three and half minutes per side is my secret for medium rare perfection.”
    On his way out, Dr. Fielding grabbed a long two-pronged fork that he used for flipping the meat, and a timer that was set for exactly seven minutes. Breeze reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her cell phone.
    “You can use my phone,” she said to Rod, “while I go grab the little one.”
    “There’s no point in calling. My mom’s at work until seven. And my dad’s taking Amber to Indian Princesses, so I’m fine for a while. Besides, I really want to check out your brother’s tonsil.”
    “Suit yourself,” Breeze said. “But I’m warning you. You’re going to be grossed out.”
    As Rod followed Breeze down the hall, he decided to bring up the subject that was bothering him. “Hey, Breeze,” he began. “Have you ever noticed anything strange going on in Billy’s