White Man's Problems Read Online Free Page B

can’t explain it.”
    â€œAll right,” he says. He ponders me for a second. “Roman, try to use your powers for good and not evil.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œNever mind. You have two weeks of detention starting today. And I’m calling your mother.”
    As I walk out, Mrs. Shinglehoffer motions me over. She looks around and whispers, “Did you hear what happened?”
    â€œNo, Mrs. Shinglehoffer.”
    â€œEd Lutz was the first one to the water fountain.” She’s whispering, but she can’t stop laughing. “He freaked out…and then…”
    â€œWhat? Mrs. Shinglehoffer?”
    â€œHe…he crapped himself. Poor soul…” She grabs a tissue.
    Once I get out of there, I head to my locker. Liz is waiting for me with Jane and a couple of other girls. “I heard all about it, you idiot,” Liz says.
    â€œPretty good, Roman,” says Jane.
    â€œAre you suspended?” Liz asks.
    â€œNah, just detention for two weeks.”
    Jane whispers something to her, and she and the other girls walk away. Liz starts to drift away with them but lingers for a second.
    â€œAre you taking the sports bus, then?” she says.
    I have a fit of overeager doofiness. “Yeah, I guess so. That’s at four, right? Is that the bus you take? Oh right, you have cheerleading practice.”
    â€œUsually. If I don’t go to Jane’s. Maybe I’ll see you on the bus.”
    And then she’s gone.
    And now I’m here, with all the AC/DC fans and Mr. Matthews, who says we can leave ten minutes early. I think he’s got somewhere to go. God knows what that guy does.
    ***
    Well, I never thought I’d come back to this, but times change. I’m in my room and it’s late. Before I go to sleep, I might as well finish this story.
    I get to the four-o’clock sports bus, and at first it looks like Liz won’t make it. I’m feeling stupid for thinking I was getting somewhere with her. But just as the bus pulls away, she pops up the steps, heads right over to my seat, and says, “Move over, buster.”
    As we ride, she tells me of the status of the cheerleading team’s repertoire, which is more interesting than you might think. When she finishes, she says, “I cannot believe you did that with the frogs. That’s the most wicked funny thing that’s happened all year.”
    â€œAw, you know. Any chance to get back at them.”
    â€œVery immature. I love it.” Then she looks at me curiously and says, “You could get into big trouble, you know.” And she gives me a friendly push. It’s new, this idea of her touching me. I try to stay calm. “Hey,” she says, “do you want to come over for a while?”
    Her house is one of those huge nice places with the flowers everywhere and the circular driveway, which I guess, theoretically, is for chauffeurs to drop people off, except these houses aren’t that fancy. You go into one of these places and it’s like the ceilings and the walls are bigger, like it holds more life or something. Definitely a place where you can get away from one another—unlike Stuckley, where we live like Japanese people getting on the subway.
    I get in the house, and her mom is, like, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Her name is Carolina, which doesn’t sound that French to me, so someone in their family must be from Spain. Like her daughter, she has thick black hair, which is pulled back by a red and white polka-dot barrette. She’s wearing a super-cool black dress. I guess Liz’ hips are from the old man’s side, because her mom is really thin. That may cause some problems later in life between mother and child, but that’s a whole other road. Mrs. Tremblay looks a hell of a lot different than my mom, I’ll tell you that.
    â€œWhere do you live, Romahn?” she asks. I love the way she pronounces my name, like I’m