Chapter 18

"Today's our field trip!" Iggy yelled happily as we sat at the table one week later, eating breakfast. I laughed. "Yep."

Fang rolled his eyes. I stuck my tongue out at him. "What, you don't like art museums?" I asked.

"Don't you like fart museums?" Gazzy shouted from across the table, spewing his cereal everywhere.

"Ew, gross!" Nudge shrieked. Angel started laughing, and Gazzy started making weird faces at her, which made her laugh even harder. That made all of us laugh, except for Fang, who was apparently trying to be emo.

"Don't you ever smile?" I asked, poking him.

He swatted my hand away. "Be quiet."

I smirked. "Make me." He just rolled his eyes again and looked away.

Pretty soon, we were all at school, going our separate ways. Gazzy and Nudge said goodbye and headed off to class, while Iggy, Fang, Jaz (unfortunately, she'd been clinging to Fang for the entire morning), and I climbed onto the bus that would be taking us to the museum.

"This is going to be so cool!" Iggy said excitedly. "I've never been on a field trip before!"

"Me neither," I replied with a laugh.

"You haven't?" Jaz's head popped up from the seat in front of us.

I groaned. "Jaz, go away."

She frowned sadly. "Awwww, do I have to?"

"YES!" I yelled, shoving her head back down. We'd gotten here late, and the only seats had been in the front, which left me and Iggy with Jaz and Fang.

I sighed. "She's so annoying."

"Who's annoying?" Jaz asked, her head popping up again.

"YOU!" I shouted.

Mrs. Jenkins came running over. "Max, we do not yell in the fifth grade."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to the principal?"

Mrs. Jenkins frowned. "I've got my eye on you, Miss Ride."

"I'm so scared," I whispered to Iggy as our weirdo teacher walked away.

~~::~~

"Guess what, Fnick? My mom made cookies! And do you know what? I got to help her make them and I cut them out in shapes and guess what shapes I made?"

"What?" Fang replied in a bored tone. We were still on the incredibly boring bus ride of boringness.

"I made heart-shaped cookies! To show my love for you!" Jaz proclaimed, yanking a big bag of cookies out of her backpack.

I groaned. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Jaz overheard my comment and turned around. "What's wrong with making cookies for Fang? He's the love of my life."

I stood up and looked her right in the eyes. "You're eleven. I don't think you know what you're talking about."

"I love him," she hissed.

I sat down, crossing my arms over my chest. "Fine. Have fun with your true love."

"I will!" she said.

"Fine!" I yelled.

"Fine!" she yelled back even louder.

"We don't yell in the fifth grade," Iggy whispered, and I started cracking up.

Jaz was still giving me the evil glare when the bus stopped in front of a big fancy building.

"Please stay with a buddy and get off the bus in an orderly fashion!" Mrs. Jenkins ordered.

Of course, there was a lot of pushing and shoving and yelling as everyone tried to get off the boring bus at the same time.

"Move it!" Jaz yelled at me. Iggy was holding my hand tightly. I didn't blame him – I might lose him if I let go of his hand.

"You move it!" I shouted back at her.

"You're in front of me!" she yelled.

"Well…you're stupid!" I yelled back. I would think of better insults later.

Finally I managed to get off the bus, ditching Fang and Jaz. We headed into the art museum, and Mrs. Jenkins told us to split up, but to stay in small groups.

"Take notes on the art that you see. You will write a small description for five pieces of art," she commanded.

Everyone moaned.

I looked for Fang and Jaz. They went towards the right, so I went towards the left, trying to stay as far from them as I could.

"Okay," I said, looking around. "Art. There's some art," I murmured, peering at a painting on a wall nearby.

"Hmmm," I mused, leaning in to touch it. "Looks….art-ish."

"Hey! Don't touch that!" an employee yelled, running over. I backed up. "Okay, okay! Sorry!" How was I supposed to know not to touch it? A few other kids in our class gave me weird looks.

"See anything?" I asked, turning to Iggy.

His voice turned cold. "No."

I bit my lip, realizing the mistake I'd made. "Iggy, I…." I trailed off, not really knowing what to say. "Come on, let's go somewhere else. This art is boring, anyway."

"Like where?" Iggy asked, a steely edge to his voice. "What am I supposed to do? 'Hey Mrs. Jenkins, I felt this painting, and it felt interesting.' I can't do that."

I sighed. "Um…" Then I had an idea. "Who needs stupid art? Come on, let's go," I said, reaching out and taking his hand.

He turned to face me. "Where are we going?"

I smiled. "It's a surprise."