Big Mouth Read Online Free Page B

He checked to make sure Max wasn’t close, then leaned over, his hand on his office aide key ring to make sure the keys didn’t jangle. I tried to focus on his eyes. “Word is, one of the science teachers got suspended at that emergency school board meeting. Supposedly he gave his class a lecture on tomatoes, saying they’re more acidic ounce for ounce than a car battery. He said they’d burn your stomach lining right out of you if you ate enough.”
    I nearly gasped out loud. “He said
that
?”
    “Uh-huh. He also said there are a thousand tomato bug eyes in every squirt of ketchup.”
    “Really? Dang.” What was that teacher thinking? District policy strictly forbids anti-tomato talk on campus, and the school board strictly enforces district policies. Of course they’d nail him. And of course Max would be ticked off about it. That was just the kind of power trip that burned her Bunsen. If we were living in the seventies, she’d be marching around with hippie braids and a DOWN WITH THE MAN sign. “Shoot, she’ll probably be cranky all week.”
    “Probably.” He went back to stirring our gel mixture. Some butyric acid splashed the bottom of his yellow shirt. He scrunched up his big nostrils. “I don’t see what the big deal is, though. So he got suspended. I wouldn’t mind staying at home for a week. It’s not like he got transferred to home ec like that teacher at Del Heiny Junior 7 last year. Now that would suck.”
    “Seriously.” But then, that science teacher had refused to apologize to the school board, or to the PTA, or, worst of all, to the school’s almighty sponsor.
    In our district, every school had the same sponsor: Del Heiny Ketchup Company. It had been that way for years, ever since the district’s budgets got slashed. They needed cash from somewhere, so like cities do with sports stadiums, the school board decided to get a sponsor. The soda companies were out of the running, though, since the state’s Department of Cafeteria Nutrition started cracking down on campus soda sales. Which sucked, by the way. How did the D.Caf.Nuts expect us to wash down our hamburgers? With
milk,
for crying out loud? Anyway, Del Heiny Ketchup Company stepped in and saved the day by offering to sponsor the entire district. All the school board had to do was agree to name every school after Del Heiny and turn their mascots into tomatoes. That arrangement passed muster with the D.Caf.Nuts, with ketchup being a vegetable and all. So in one swoop, Del Heiny got an image boost, the district got its money, and I got stuck here, in glorious Del Heiny Junior High #13, home of the oh-so-fierce Plum Tomatoes.
    “No, no, no. You’re doing it all wrong, Linus. Didn’t you pay attention to the instructions?” Mad Max didn’t like the consistency of our butyric acid gel mixture.
    I didn’t like the smell of it. For the sake of science, though, I leaned in for a closer examination—holding my breath, of course. The mixture looked fine to me, like cherry Jell-O. Rubbery and red. Which, like an idiot, is what I said to Max.
    “Is this experiment about making cherry Jell-O, Sherman?”
    “Well, no, but—”
    “Is it about Jell-O at all?”
    “No, but—”
    “Then the point of your comparison is?”
    “I don’t know, I just—”
    “That’s what I thought. Now discard this gel and follow the steps written on your handout. Come on class, let’s pick up the pace here! We’re running out of time.” She clapped her hands and zipped away to terrorize another lab group.
    Jeez. I’d almost rather be hanging out with Arthur.
    Tater flared his big nostrils and exhaled like a rhino. “Thanks, Thuff. For a minute there I thought she’d assign me after-school cleanup again. I hate cleaning up after lab days. Her experiments always reek by sixth period.”
    It wasn’t like I’d really done anything, but hey, he thought I did. “No problem, man. I got your back.” I clapped him solidly on the shoulder, then scooped