Chapter 3

  The day passed quickly, and it wasn’t long before Solomon grabbed a tray of food from the cafeteria and took it outside to one of the picnic tables. Luna trailed behind him, just as she always did, but he had gotten used to his extra shadow a long time ago. Grant brought over a few of his other friends, and the picnic table soon became a hub of lively conversation.

  Solomon picked at his food, not having much of an appetite. He felt as if he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, and any small movement might push him over. What’s wrong with me? Pushing his food away, he noticed Magnus Miller and his gang of bullies slinking around a corner of the school building. Suspicious, he stood to follow them.

  Solomon crept around the side of the school, using a bush as cover. He saw Magnus and his buddies huddled in a group against the wall. Trying to get a better look at what they were doing, he shifted his weight and accidentally stepped on a twig. The resulting crack seemed to echo throughout the entire world. With nothing else for it, he stepped out from behind the bush and confronted the nineth graders. “What are you doing back here?”

  Magnus’ lackeys peeled away, revealing a seventh grader who was currently pinned to the wall by one of Magnus’ beefy hands. “Help,” the seventh grader managed to squeak out. His nose was bleeding, and the frames of his glasses were bent crooked.

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  Solomon shifted his gaze to Magnus and gave him a steely glare. “Let him go,” he growled.

  Magnus just laughed at his effort of intimidation. “Or what? You’ll warm my seat for me? Face it, Peterson, you’re no match for us. You couldn’t even be a starter on the team, let alone take us in a fight.”

  Feeling his face grow hot, Solomon clenched his hands into fists. Magnus was one of the best offensive players on the football team, and he never let anyone forget that. Since Solomon was on defense, they often faced up against each other in practice, and Magnus took every chance to humiliate him. “Oh yeah?” Solomon challenged. “Why don’t you try and take me?” Before anyone could react, he threw himself against Magnus, executing one of the best tackles of his football career. The bully flailed in panic, not sure what was happening, but Solomon held on tight. It was almost like riding a bucking bronco. The bespeckled(?) seventh grader managed to slip away in the confusion.

  It didn’t take long for Magnus’ goons to drag Solomon off, but he was satisfied to see that the bully had several large bruises. The goons held Solomon by the arms and roughly pinned him against the stone wall of the school.

  “This is why you don’t mess with me,” Magnus warned, pulling back his arm for a solid punch. “I always hit back.”

  Solomon closed his eyes in anticipation of the blow, but then a feminine voice cut in. “Excuse me, Mr. Peterson, your parents have sent someone to pick up you and your sister. Would you please kindly come with me?”