There was a poke in my other side. I turned around in my seat that way.
It was Darren. He didn’t seem happy about my almost-birthday either. “Don’t you know that cupcakes have eggs in them?” he asked me.
“What?” I asked. Because I thought that was a weird question. And I was confused.
Sage was still shouting, “Mrs. Rouse! Albie brought cupcakes into the classroom!”
I looked back at Darren. “What’s wrong with cupcakes?” I asked.
Darren rolled his eyes at me. “Sage is allergic to eggs, dummy. That’s why there’s a sign on the door.” He pointed to the door and the sign with the crossed-out egg. “It’s been there all year.” I knew it had been there all year. Darren didn’t have to tell me that. He didn’t have to call me “dummy” either. That was just mean.
Then it seemed like everyone was up out of their seats, shouting or talking or coming over to see what was going on. Mrs. Rouse was flicking the lights on and off, but it wasn’t helping any.
“Why’d you bring eggs in the classroom?” Nicole asked me. “Did you want Sage to get sick?”
“Mrs. Rouse gave all the parents a letter, remember?” Tia said. “You don’t remember?”
“Albie, you know you’re supposed to leave outside food in the cafeteria.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
I wanted to tell them all that I just forgot. That I thought cupcakes were different. That I didn’t remember about the food rule, because it was my birthday. That maybe I never knew cupcakes had eggs in them, because I never made a cupcake before. Or maybe I did know that, and I just forgot. But everyone was yelling at me, or talking at me, or asking me questions, and the lights were flickering, and I couldn’t think. My brain wasn’t working. I sat in my desk with those stupid cupcakes in their stupid white box, with everyone around me staring. I just bit my lip and stayed quiet.
I was not allowed to cry.
Finally the lights flicked enough that everyone stopped talking. Mrs. Rouse told everyone to go back to their seats, and they finally did.
“Simmer down, class,” Mrs. Rouse said. “It’s okay.”
Mrs. Rouse said it wasn’t a big deal, Sage would be fine. “Albie, we’ll put your cupcakes in the cafeteria, okay? And then you can pick them up to take home after school is out. Would someone like to volunteer to take them, please?”
I should have paid attention when Darren volunteered to take the cupcakes. I should’ve known. But I was still biting my lip so hard, thinking about eggs and birthdays and allergies and not crying, and I didn’t think about it.
I guess that’s something I do a lot—not thinking.
• • •
After school Mr. Paul, the lunch aide, let me into the cafeteria kitchen to get the cupcakes. He pointed to the fridge, and I opened it and found the white box on a shelf. Someone had written my name on the side in black marker so it would be easy to find. Albin Schaffhauser, Room 317.
“You need help with the box?” Mr. Paul asked me.
“No, thanks,” I said, and I slid it out of the fridge. The box was cold.
DUMMY
That’s what was written on the top of the box, in big scribbly letters, so fat I couldn’t miss it.
I bit my lip again and then, after I checked to make sure Mr. Paul wasn’t looking, I opened up the box.