No Class

Remember that time you brought your new hubs to school for show and tell?

You were so proud of those Maderas—you saved up all by yourself, earning money by mowing lawns and shoveling driveways and turning the occasional trick.

When the time came though, you reached into your bag and found it empty. You checked everywhere—under your desk, in your coat pockets, even inside your Trapper Keeper. Nothing. That's when you heard the laughter from two rows away.

Timmy Keller.

Of course. He got you again. And all you could do was look at the clock, tears drying on your face, and wonder where Dad kept the paint thinner.

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