Okay, okay, okay.
I know, I know, I know.
I haven’t been nice to August Pullman!
Big deal. It’s not the end of the world, people! Let’s stop with the drama, okay? There’s a whole big world out there, and not everyone is nice to everyone else. That’s just the way it is. So, can you please get over it? I think it’s time to move on and get on with your life, don’t you?
I don’t get it. I really don’t. One minute, I’m like, the most popular kid in the fifth grade. And the next minute, I’m like, I don’t know. Whatever. This bites. This whole year bites! I wish Auggie Pullman had never come to Beecher Prep in the first place! I wish he had kept his creepy little face hidden away like in The Phantom of the Opera or something. Put a mask on, Auggie! Get your face out of my face, please. Everything would be a lot easier if you would just disappear.
At least for me. I’m not saying it’s a picnic for him, either, by the way. I know it can’t be easy for him to look in the mirror every day, or walk down the street. But that’s not my problem. My problem is that everything’s different since he’s been coming to my school. The kids are different. I’m different. And it sucks big-time.
I wish everything was the way it used to be in the fourth grade. We had so, so, so much fun back then. We would play tackle-tag in the yard, and not to brag, but everyone always wanted a piece of me, you know? I’m just sayin’. Everyone always wanted to be my partner when we’d do social studies projects. And everyone always laughed when I said something funny.
At lunchtime, I’d always sit with my peeps, and we were like, it. We were totally it. Henry. Miles. Amos. Jack. We were it! It was so cool. We had all these secret jokes. Little hand signals for stuff.
I don’t know why that had to change. I don’t know why everyone got so stupid about stuff.
Actually, I do know why: it was because of Auggie Pullman. The moment he showed up, that’s when things stopped being the way they used to be. Everything was totally ordinary. And now things are messed up. And it’s because of him.
And Mr. Tushman. In fact, it’s kind of totally Mr. Tushman’s fault.
Copyright © 2015 by R. J. Palacio. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.