Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories Read Online Free Page B

what your body needs."
    Another guy lifted a two-liter bottle of
cola. "This isn't what you need."
    The third guy showed us a picture of a cow.
"Balanced meals are important," he said.
    I zoned out as they went over all the food
groups. I knew that stuff. They also warned us about steroids and
other dangerous substances.
    "Kids," one of the players said, picking up
a small bottle of clear liquid, "this will do all sorts of evil
things to your body. It just isn't worth it."
    "Your young bodies are still growing and
changing," another of the player said. "There's no telling how much
this stuff could mess you up."
    When the assembly ended, I realized I'd
survived 45 minutes sitting right next to Augie. For the first time
in my life, I was actually eager to get back to my class. Before I
could stand, Augie grabbed my shoulder and said, "Come on. Let's
meet them."
    "What?"
    He pointed to the stage. "Let's sneak back
there and meet the players. I've never met a real football
star."
    "But we'll get in trouble." I didn't feel
like spending the next week in after-school detention, or writing a
three-page essay.
    Augie tightened his grip enough to let me
know I'd find myself in even more trouble — or at least, more
painful trouble — if I didn't do what he wanted.
    "Why do you care if I come?"
    "I might need a distraction."
    I didn't like the sound of that. I could
picture him ripping my arm off and batting me to the ground with
it. Then he could stroll past the teachers who were busy trying to
stop the spurting blood. As I was imagining various ways I could be
used as a distraction, Augie dragged me out the side exit and down
the hall to the door that led back-stage.
    After we slipped in without getting caught,
I relaxed a bit. It would be amazing to see the players face to
face — okay, face to bellybutton — even if I got in trouble later.
Maybe this would turn out all right. It would definitely be cool to
get an autograph.
    Except, there was nobody there. The players
must have headed out the instant the assembly ended. Oh boy — Augie
was going to be unhappy about that. But at least it meant I'd be
able to get to my class quickly enough to avoid trouble.
    "Hey, wait," Augie said. He lumbered over to
the far corner of the room, where all the music stands had been
shoved. "Someone forgot a bag. Cool. Maybe there's a football or
something in there."
    Augie slid a large canvas bag out from under
a folding chair. He unzipped it and started pulling stuff out. I
wanted to tell him to stop, but I was pretty happy he was
distracted.
    He tossed out a bunch of clothes, and some
posters like the ones that they'd put up in the classrooms.
    "Anything interesting?" I guess I was sort
of curious.
    He shook his head. "Nothing good." He
started to pull his hand out, then reached in again. "Wait. What's
this?"
    He pulled out a small bottle. There was one
word on the label, right beneath where his thumb curled around it.
GROWTH. Augie looked at it the way a starving kid looks at a whole
pepperoni pizza.
    "Be careful," I said. 'You don't know what's
in there. And you don't know how much to take. You're a lot
smaller—"
    "I'm what?" Augie said. "Are you calling me
small?"
    I managed to gulp and say, "No," at the same
time. It hurt my throat. I'd just wanted to warn him that the right
dose might depend on how much he weighed.
    Augie unscrewed the cap and raised the
bottle to his lips. I had a tough decision to make. I could try to
talk him out of it, and maybe get hurt. Or just keep my mouth shut.
One bottle couldn't do all that much harm, could it? It was a
pretty small bottle, and he was a pretty big kid.
    Yeah, it could a whole lot of harm. It could
be super concentrated. For all we knew, there might be 100
doses.
    I walked over and grabbed Augie's arm.
"Stop!" It was like grabbing a fence post.
    Augie stared at me the way I'd stare at a
chihuahua that was tugging at me sneaker laces. "What are you
doing?"
    "Don't drink it. You don't know