Henry Hoey Hobson Read Online Free

myself when there were other people out there trying to have a conversation with me. And I really shouldn’t be staring at anyone’s teeth. Not with blue-marble eyes, and a jet-black widow’s peak that framed my milk-bottle skin into a pasty heart shape. I really wasn’t in any position to be lookist.
    Blair Boniface blinked behind his spectacles. ‘I don’t mind dunces. We could play that, if you want.’ He blinked nervously at Joey. ‘You know, for a change.’
    Joey shrugged again. ‘Whatever.’
    He sloped back over to the handball court that was painted onto the concrete floor of the undercroft. ‘I’m ace.’ He pointed at Jironomo. ‘Hero, you can be king and BB, you’re queen.’
    â€˜I guess that makes me dunce.’ I didn’t mind; it was well within my comfort zone. I ambled over to the dunce’s square and was startled by Joey’s sudden shout.
    â€˜PURPLE DRAGON!’
    The handball hit me square in the sternum, a full-on peg.
    Joey Castellaro smiled. ‘I guess that makes you double-dunce, Hobson.’
    I rubbed at my chest. OK, so purple dragon obviously meant duck . Gotcha. ‘Any other local rules I need to know about?’
    He shrugged and swaggered back to serve again.
    I was ready this time, but it was a regular serve, hard and low. I tapped it back, so that it fell just over the line. It was a good return; he’d never get to it before the second bounce.
    â€˜M-and-Ms!’ He slammed it back after the second bounce, catching me off-guard, yet again. ‘Hobson, you’re too slow. Triple-dunce!’
    I cracked my neck and primed myself for the next round. M-and-Ms must allow a double bounce. I was going to get the hang of this if it killed me.
    His next serve went to Hero, who batted it to BB. He bounced it to me and I hit it straight back at him. Standard handball. We had a nice little rally going until Joey Castellaro burst into my square screaming ‘GHOSTS!’
    I flubbed the return and spun on him. ‘What the hell! What do you think you’re doing, Castellaro? Just making it up as you go along?’
    BB adjusted his glasses. ‘Well, you can interfere if you say “Ghosts”, just as long as you don’t touch the ball.’
    â€˜We thought you knew that,’ said Hero. ‘Sorry.’
    â€˜He doesn’t know anything,’ snorted Joey Castellaro. ‘That’s why he’s a quadruple-dunce.’ He clicked his fingers at BB. ‘Here – give us the ball.’
    His attitude was starting to bug me. ‘Why should he? Why can’t BB have a serve?’
    â€˜Ace always serves.’ He grabbed the ball and shook his head. ‘You really don’t know anything about handball, do you, Hobson?’
    I looked away, gritting my teeth, totally unprepared for what happened next.
    â€˜PURPLE DRAGON!’
    The handball caught me right in the chops, mashing my lips into my braces. I spun and walked away, so that they wouldn’t see the tears of pain that had sprung into my eyes. Luckily, the ball had ricocheted off me and rolled up against the wall of the undercroft, so it looked like I was just going to get it. I took my time to pick it up and walk back to a handball court that had gone quiet.
    Hero sucked at his teeth. ‘You OK?’
    I nodded.
    BB blinked at me from behind his glasses. ‘You want a tissue?’
    I shook my head. Please God, don’t let them think that I was crying.
    â€˜You sure? ’Cos you got a bit of, uh–’ He gestured vaguely at the side of his mouth. ‘A bit of blood, you know, trickling down–’
    I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand and stared down at the bright red streak. My braces might need some adjustment and I wasn’t sure if Mum was still friends with the orthodontist who had installed them.
    I walked up to Joey Castellaro, slapped the ball into his chest