“He puffed air between his thin lips, continued working, and continued to ignore the stout boy who stood behind him. The wood shop had quieted down. No one else moved, and their tools were silent. Only the constant machine-hum of lathes that had been ignored, left running, filled the shop with sound. Yet somehow the room was silent. The boy behind Rusty took a short half-step closer, shoved his shoulder hard. Rusty was thrown off-balance, and the chisel bit too deep into the chair leg between th...e lathe points. The design was ruined. The chisel snapped away, and Rusty spun, anger flaming his face. He stared hard at the other boy, changed his grip on the wood chisel. Now he held it underhand—knife-style. The other boy didn’t move. “What’s a’matter, spick? Y’don’t wanna talk to your old buddy Candle no more?” His thick, square face drew up in a wild grimace. Rusty Santoro’s face tightened. His thin line of mouth jerked with the effort to keep words from spewing out. He had known the Cougars would try to get to him today, but he hadn’t figured on it during school hours.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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