Fat kid rules the world Read Online Free Page B

it. Huge whale of an unsplattered Fat Kid, emaciated piece of dirty blond twine, repressed bewildered military machine, and Dayle. Three freaks and a normal kid standing on the sidewalk.
    My brother looks like he wants to sink into the concrete. I almost feel sorry for him, and I wish he might find the whole thing funny. I mean, it is funny,
isn’t it
? But I can tell he doesn’t think so.
    I shift position and my thighs rub together. No one says a word, and in the absence of a response, my mouth gets diarrhea.
    “Curt’s played with a bunch of bands, and they’re all really good. Nothing you guys would’ve heard of, of course, but that’s only because you don’t listen to that kind of music, but it’s all hidden in my sock drawer, or it
was
, but now I’m going to take it out, so you might hear it sometime. Curt’s amazing on guitar….”
    Curt grins. “And vocals,” he adds. “I do awesome vocals.”
    I nod. “And vocals.”
    My father’s eyes narrow.
    “Shit,” says Dayle.
    Dad glares at him while I rush to say just
one more thing
.
    “I didn’t tell you about Curt before because I didn’t want you to get mad.” This is pure B.S. and Dayle knows it.
    “He’s lying,” he whines, but Curt shakes his head.
    “Not,” he says. He glares at my little brother as if he might squash him. Dayle’s got muscles like Dad, but he’s little and I almost think Curt could win by stench alone. Finally, Dad sighs.

    “Dayle,” he warns. Then, like a good soldier, he regains the tension in his jawline and focuses on me. “If you were meeting your … friend,” he says, “you should have told me.” He turns to Curt, his attention directed at him for the first time. I hold my breath wondering what he’ll say. Will he think Curt’s too good for me? Tell him to find someone else to play drums in his band?
    My father’s eyes narrow.
    “You,” he states, “are unacceptably dirty.”
    Dad glances toward our apartment and Dayle’s eyes bug out.
    “Dad, you’ve got to be kidding. We can’t let
him
use our bathroom. I swear, only Troy could pick up such a loser. If anyone at school hears about this …”
    He stifles the last thought before he utters it, but there’s an awkward moment while my father and I look at the ground. Curt just smiles directly at Dayle. It’s funny to watch my little brother get so pissed while Curt looks so smug. Makes me pervertedly happy. It’s The Battle of the Skinny Kids now playing on the Fat Kid Channel. I want Curt to win even though he’s skinnier.
    Dad ignores Dayle and heads toward the apartment. Dayle and I automatically fall in line behind him, even waiting in rough formation while he unlocks the security door, but Curt follows in a meandering path, nearly getting locked out, then taking the steps two at a time once we’re inside. He pokes his head around the corner on each floor, stops and starts about ten times, darts down the hall to inspect our neighbor’s welcome mat, then has to jog to catch up. I think,
Damn, it’s only two flights of stairs and a hallway
. Dad doesn’t say anything, but I know it bugs him.
    Once we’re inside he makes Curt sit in
one place
while he gets him a bathrobe, towel, and new set of clothes. The clothes will never fit, but that doesn’t stop Dad from declaring that everything Curt is wearing must be disposed of. Curt’s face turns horrible shades ofwhite and I think he might pass out, but he doesn’t say a word. Only coughs twice.
    Despite this, Curt looks supremely happy as he walks down the hall from the living room to the bathroom. He stares at every picture, and there’re a lot of them. The apartment is filled with pictures of our family and in every one of them Mom’s beautiful. She’s always smiling and her long, dark hair makes her look Mexican. She looks nothing like my father, brother, and me. I watch Curt studying her and wonder what he sees.
Does he think I’m adopted
?
    When Curt finally disappears into the