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to do what we should have d-d-done yesterday,” Keith mocked.
    “What have we done to you guys?” Cole asked. But he knew they didn’t need a reason. He had never needed a reason himself when he used to beat kids up. He knew exactly how Keith and his friends thought, and it scared him.
    “Maybe I don’t like you,” said Alex, a skinny blond kid from Cole’s math class.
    Cole glanced around. Peter’s saying they were two blocks away from the school didn’t help the principal much if she was listening. Cole pointed to a yellow house nearby. “You better leave us alone—the principal lives in that house,” he said loudly. “Two forty-six Elm Street.”
    Peter looked quizzically at Cole and then grinned. “Oh, yeah, she l-l-lives at two forty-six Elm Street,” he repeated slowly.
    “What a crock of bull—,” Keith said. “You think we’re stupid?” He shoved Peter. “If the principal lives there, my mother lives in an igloo.”
    Peter was scared, but the cell phone gave him confidence and he smiled. “Where did your mom get an igloo?” he asked.
    Keith slapped Peter hard. “Get that grin off your face, retard,” he said, “or I’ll wipe it off.”
    Cole saw the group smirking and knew they were the most dangerous when they were showing off to one another. Quickly he sat down on the sidewalk and pulled Peter down beside him. “Don’t say anything more,” he whispered. “Be invisible.”
    “What are you doing now?” Keith asked.
    “We’re not going to fight you,” Cole said. “If it makes you feel big and strong to hurt somebody who’s sitting down, go ahead.”
    “I don’t care if you’re sleeping,” Keith said, kicking Cole in the ribs.
    Raw fear showed in Peter’s eyes as Keith turned and kicked him, too. Eddy stepped forward and kicked Peter in the back. Cole was desperate to stop Peter from getting hurt. “Hey, dog breath!” he shouted. “Why don’t you kick somebody your own size?”
    Eddy and Keith laughed as they both kicked Cole at the same time.
    Lying on his side, grimacing, Cole could see cars passing on the street. Drivers turned to look, but none stopped to help. Another hard kick in the chest took Cole’s breath away, then he heard Peter grunt from being kicked again. Cole looked up at Keith. “Five against two isn’t exactly fighting like a man.”
    “Okay, then get up and fight just me,” Keith said.
    “Yeah, right,” Cole said. “And if I whup you, your friends are going to just sit back and watch. I don’t think so. I’m not
that
stupid.”
    “You sure talk a lot for somebody who is getting his butt kicked.” Keith kicked Cole again.
    Suddenly a blue station wagon swerved to a stop beside the curb, and Ms. Kennedy stepped out.
    The group started to run.
    “Stop, or I call the police,” the principal shouted. “I recognize every one of you. Line up, now!”
    Reluctantly, the gang returned and shuffled into position. Cole and Peter stood, clutching their bruised ribs. Peter’s nose was bleeding, and Ms. Kennedy handed him a tissue. “Are you okay?” she asked.
    Peter nodded.
    “What are you doing here?” Keith asked the principal timidly.
    “I want to know what
you’re
doing here,” she replied.
    “We didn’t do nothing to them!” exclaimed Eddy.
    “Oh, let me guess,” the principal said. “Peter and Cole just walked up to you again, and this time they sat down on the sidewalk in front of you so they could relax and enjoy your company.”
    “We weren’t really hurting them,” Alex said.
    “We were just messing with their heads a little,” said Keith.
    “Yeah, we were just joking,” the others agreed.
    “Maybe we should joke with you a little,” Peter said.
    Ms. Kennedy’s voice grew cold. “You five are the biggest cowards in our school. Instead of these two, why don’t you pick on the football team?”
    The group remained silent, smirking.
    Ms. Kennedy moved slowly, looking into the boys’ eyes until each looked away, then