All-Day Breakfast Read Online Free Page B

you’re joining us today, Mrs. Avery.”
    I put my hand out to shake, all hearty and businesslike, but she just grasped my fingertips while performing a disturbing little curtsey.
    â€œI heard that he wasn’t having surgery at all ,” she whispered, “but that the poor dear was spending his stress leave in California!”
    â€œThat’s where the best ones go,” said Clint.
    â€œI don’t think that’s the case, ma’am,” I said. “I heard from him this morning.”
    â€œAre you really wearing that jacket to Velouria?” asked Franny.
    I instinctively checked the top button. “Why?”
    â€œIt’s just, you know, you’ve got a clipboard and a corduroy sport jacket. You look exactly like a teacher on a field trip.”
    â€œBut that’s—”
    â€œBut didn’t you ever want to be something more?”
    â€œOkay, all right. I like the panda sweater, by the way.”
    â€œIt’s worth fifty bucks on eBay!” She smoothed it down over her belly. “And the best coaches are in the stands, my dad says. His raunchy ideas are culinary. Be that as it may, Gillbrick, you could use a little shaking up.”
    â€œIt’s not really Mr. Gillbrick, is it?” Mrs. Avery asked Megan.
    â€œI say Gill- brick ,” Franny announced, “because the guy is solid .”
    â€œSorry to interrupt. It’s like almost nine.” This was blond Harv Saunders, an up-and-comer on the varsity basketball team. “Is the trip definitely today ?”
    Wide-eyed Mrs. Avery tilted her head like she was deciding which puppy she wanted, though she was only reading her watch. Then like Zeus’s cloud mercifully descending in some old Greek play—I’d read half a dozen at UC Denver, after all—a long yellow rectangle flashed past on the other side of the shrubs.
    â€œOkey-dokey.” Mrs. Avery nimbly clapped her hands. “Let’s get a line started right here, everybody!”
    With a hiss of pneumatics the bus’s door flopped open and the driver scowled down—a skinny guy in blue coveralls, his red beard trimmed into a gigantic rectangle. I let the kids climb on, putting yet another pencil mark beside each name as its owner hunched by. Skater kids at the back of the line crushed cigarette butts under their sneakers. I waved a hand in front of my nose at the nicotine stink, and Harv, headphones around his neck, must’ve thought I’d meant it for him.
    â€œOh, I just smell like that,” he said, putting his nose to the shoulder of his blue hoodie. “Our whole house smells ’cause of my dad.”
    â€œClimb aboard, Harv,” I said. “My dad was the same.”
    Amber and Grace flashed me slick fake smiles as they filed by. They wore the same skull-patterned hoodies but blond Amber had scooped on more eyeliner. The Avery women hung back by the trash can—they formed an interesting contrast, scientifically speaking, in that the mom possessed a wizened sort of Disney cuteness while Megan was homely as a shelving unit.
    â€œMy dad’s running late but he said he’d be here for sure,” said Shawn, pushing long bangs out of his eyes as he climbed up.
    â€œIt would’ve been great to have him,” I said, “but we can’t wait.”
    â€œHis dad’s got problems.” Eric arched his brows and ran fingers through his prodigious mullet. “Gets stuck taking these huge dumps.”
    â€œShut up, man,” said Shawn.
    â€œOkay, now go ahead,” Mrs. Avery said, nudging Megan forward.
    â€œYou go first! I don’t want you to look at my bum.”
    â€œYou’d rather look at mine ?”
    Megan nodded earnestly. “It’s nice!”
    Her mother kissed her cheek before sashaying up the steps. Moms of the world are universally adored while the dads sit home on the toilet.
    The inside of the bus smelled like bubble gum and