Alibi Junior High Read Online Free Page B

aggravated. “Just triple up! Come on, you’re going to make everyone late.”
    I look at the seat next to me. A guy wearing a leather jacket mutters, “Don’t even think about it.”
    I move down the aisle. Everyone keeps glaring at me. Nobody wants me to squeeze next to them; it’s easy to see why.
    I’m walking past Cell Phone Girl.
    The driver shouts, “Just sit down already!”
    I plop down on the edge of her seat. She lets out a heavy sigh, looks up from her phone and mumbles, “Perfect…just perfect. I get to sit next to the psycho new kid. Just don’t touch me. You hear me?”
    She doesn’t move over, not even an inch; she just continues with her mindless texts. I sit there with only half my butt on the seat, my legs in the aisle, and my patience stretched to the max. I throw my backpack on the floor. I can’t believe I’ve got to carry that thing around all day.
    The bus pulls out into traffic. It’s even harder to sit like this once we start moving. I’m struggling to stay in place while trying my best not to touch Cell Phone Girl. I think it would be easier to walk on my hands to school.
    “You’re going to have to move over.”
    She looks up. “Are you talking to me?”
    “Yes.”
    “There’s no room.”
    “Yes, there is. Move over.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Hey, I didn’t ask you to sit here.”
    “True, but I’m asking you to move over.”
    She smirks and raises her eyebrows. “And I’m telling you there’s no room.”
    My hand darts out and snatches the cell phone from her grip. It takes her a moment to realize what just happened.
    I eye the open window and hiss, “Move over or your cell phone’s leaving the bus before you.”
    She moves her arm in an attempt to grab back her phone but I quickly flip the phone from my right to left hand.
    “Try that again and it’s definitely going out the window.” Just to let her know I mean business, I start flipping the phone back and forth between my outstretched hands with blinding speed. The hours I’ve spent practicing with my nunchucks make this flashy exhibition amazingly simple.
    “Gimme back my phone!”
    “Move over first.”
    Cell Phone Girl looks over at the small, dark-haired girl sitting next to her.
    “Do you believe this psycho?”
    The girl doesn’t say a word; she seems hypnotized by the flying cell phone. There’s a slight smile tugging at her lips and her eyes are opened wide.
    Cell Phone Girl huffs, “Move over so I can get my phone back.”
    The small girl scoots over as close as she can get to the window, Cell Phone Girl moves over with her. This finally allows me enough room to get my whole butt on the seat.
    I give her a sideways glance and sarcastically say, “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
    “Gimme back my phone.”
    I place it in her hand and she grabs it like a fumbled football, pulling it close to her body. She stares straight ahead and sinks into an angry frozen silence. I guess she’s decided I’m not one to be messed with.
    Two guys next to me are arguing about some video game—I guess there’s a right way and a wrong way of doing level fifteen. I don’t have a clue what they’re talking about.
    A hat sails by me.
    Someone shouts, “Hey! What did you do that for?”
    The bus driver barks, “Knock it off back there!”
    Two girls are laughing hysterically behind me. It doesn’t seem possible that anything could be that funny. One of them keeps saying, “Did he really say that?”
    I realize that Cell Phone Girl’s leg is gently pressing up against mine—the whole leg, from the hip to her ankle. Was it always likethat? I don’t think so. Is she trying to intimidate me? Trying to get me to move away from her? Move myself back to the edge of my seat? Well, if she is, it’s not going to work.
     
     
    I t worked.
    By the time we get to the school, my leg muscles are cramping up from holding on to my small sliver of seat and my right butt cheek is so numb it might as well have been