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needed a ride because our car wouldn't start。 A few eggs
now and again … it was the least I could do。
There was also the decidedly blissful possibility of running into Bryce。 And in the chilly
sparkle of a new day； Bryce's eyes seemed bluer than
ever。 The way he looked at me—the smile； the blush—it was a Bryce I didn't get to see at
school。 The Bryce at school was way more protected。
By the third time I brought eggs over to the Loskis； I realized that Bryce was waiting for me。
Waiting to pull the door open and say； “Thanks； Juli；”
and then； “See you at school。”
It was worth it。 Even after Mrs。 Helms and Mrs。 Stueby offered me more money per dozen； it
was still worth it。 So； through the rest of sixth grade；
through all of seventh grade and most of eighth； I delivered eggs to the Loskis。 The very best；
shiniest eggs went straight to the Loskis； and in return
I got a few moments alone with the world's most dazzling eyes。
It was a bargain。
Then they cut down the sycamore tree。 And two weeks later Champ died。 He'd been
spending a lot of time sleeping； and even though we didn't
really know how old he was； no one was really surprised when one night Dad went out to
feed him and discovered he was dead。 We buried him in
the backyard； and my brothers put up a cross that reads：
HERE LIES THE MYSTERY PISSER
P。I。P。
I was upset and pretty dazed for a while。 It was raining a lot and I was riding my bike to
school to avoid having to take the bus； and each day when
I'd get home； I'd retreat to my room； lose myself in a novel； and simply forget about collecting
eggs。
……… Page 35………
Mrs。 Stueby was the one who got me back on schedule。 She called to say she'd read about
the tree in the paper and was sorry about everything
that had happened； but it had been some time now and she missed her eggs and was
worried that my hens might quit laying。 “Distress can push a
bird straight into a molting； and we wouldn't want that！ Feathers everywhere and not an egg
in sight。 I'm quite allergic to the feathers myself or I'd
probably have a flock of my own； but never you mind。 You just bring 'em over when you're up
to it。 All's I wanted was to check in and let you know
how sorry I was about the tree。 And your dog； too。 Your mother mentioned he passed away。”
So I got back to work。 I cleared away the eggs I'd neglected and got back into my routine of
collecting and cleaning。 And one morning when I had
enough； I made the rounds。 First Mrs。 Stueby； then Mrs。 Helms； and finally the Loskis。 And
as I stood at the Loskis' threshold； it occurred to me that I
hadn't seen Bryce in the longest time。 Sure； we'd both been at school； but I'd been so
preoccupied with other things that I hadn't really seen him。
My heart started beating faster； and when the door whooshed open and his blue eyes looked
right at me； it took everything I had just to say；
“Here。”
He took the half…carton and said； “You know； you don't have to give us these…。”
“I know；” I said； and looked down。
We stood there for a record…breaking amount of time saying nothing。 Finally he said； “So are
you going to start riding the bus again？”
I looked up at him and shrugged。 “I don't know。 I haven't been up there since … you know。”
“It doesn't look so bad anymore。 It's all cleared。 They'll probably start on the foundation
soon。”
It sounded perfectly awful to me。
“Well；” he said； “I've got to get ready for school。 See you there。” Then he smiled and closed
the door。
For some reason I just stood there。 I felt odd。 Out of sorts。 Disconnected from everything
around me。 Was I ever going to go back up to Collier
Street？ I had to eventually； or so my mother said。 Was I just making it harder？
Suddenly the door flew open and Bryce came hurrying out with an overfull kitchen trash can
in his hands。 “Juli！” he said。 “What are you still doing
here？”
He startled me； too。 I didn't know what I was still doing there。 And I was so flustered that I
would probably just have run home if he hadn't started
struggling with the trash； trying to shove the contents down。
I reached over and said； “Do you need some help？” because it looked like he was about to
spill the trash。 Then I saw the corner of an egg carton。
This wasn't just any egg carton either。 It was my egg carton。 The one I'd just brought him。
And through the little blue cardboard arcs I could see
eggs。
I looked from him to the eggs and said； “What happened？ Did you drop them？”
“Yeah；” he said quickly。 “Yeah； and I'm really sorry about that。”
He tried to stop me； but I took the carton from the trash； saying； “All of them？” I opened the
carton and gasped。 Six whole； perfect eggs。 “Why'd
you throw them away？”
He pushed past me and went around the house to the trash bin； and I followed him； waiting
for an answer。
He shook the garbage out； then turned to face me。 “Does the word salmonella mean
anything to you？”
“Salmonella？ But …”
“My mom doesn't think it's worth the risk。”
I followed him back to the porch。 “Are you saying she won't eat them because—”
“Because she's afraid of being poisoned。”
……… Page 36………
“Poisoned！ Why？”
“Because your backyard is； like； covered in turds！ I mean； look at your place； Juli！” He
pointed at our house and said； “Just look at it。 It's a
plete dive！”
“It is not！” I cried； but the truth was sitting right across the street； impossible to deny。 My
throat suddenly choked closed and I found it painful to
speak。 “Have you… always thrown them away？”
He shrugged and looked down。 “Juli； look。 We didn't want to hurt your feelings。”
“My feelings？ Do you realize Mrs。 Stueby and Mrs。 Helms pay me for my eggs？”
“You're kidding。”
“No！ They pay me two dollars a dozen！”
“No way。”
“It's true！ All those eggs I gave to you I could've sold to Mrs。 Stueby or Mrs。 Helms！”
“Oh；” he said； and looked away。 Then he eyed me and said； “Well； why did you just give
them to us？”
I was fighting back tears； but it was hard。 I choked out； “I was trying to be neighborly…！”
He put down the trash can； then did something that made my brain freeze。 He held me by
the shoulders and looked me right in the eyes。 “Mrs。
Stueby's your neighbor； isn't she？ So's Mrs。 Helms； right？ Why be neighborly to us and not
them？”
What was he trying to say？ Was it still so obvious how I felt about him？ And if he knew； how
could he have been so heartless； just throwing my
eggs away like that； week after week； year after year？
I couldn't find any words。 None at all。 I just stared at him； at the clear； brilliant blue of his eyes。
“I'm sorry； Juli；” he whispered。
I stumbled home； embarrassed and confused； my heart pletely cracked open。
Get a Grip； Man
It didn't take long for me to realize that I'd traded in my old problems with Juli Baker for a
whole new set of problems with Juli Baker。 I could feel her
anger a mile away。
It was actually worse having her mad at me than having her harass me。 Why？ Because I'd
screwed up； that's why。 I had egg all over my face； and
blaming it on her yard had done nothing to wash it off。 The way she ignored me； or so
obviously avoided me； was a screaming loud reminder to me
that I'd been a jerk。 A royal cluck…faced jerk。
Then one day I'm ing home from hanging out with Garrett after school； and there's Juli in
her front yard； hacking at a shrub。 She is thrashing
on the thing。 Branches are flying over her shoulder； and clear across the street I can hear her
grunting and growling and saying stuff like； “No…
you… don't！ You are ing… off… whether you like it or …not！”
Did I feel good about this？ No； my friend； I did not。 Yeah； their yard was a mess； and it was
about time someone did something about it； but
c'mon — where's the dad？ What about Matt and Mike？ Why Juli？
Because I'd embarrassed her into it； that's why。 I felt worse than ever。
So I snuck inside and tried to ignore the fact that here's my desk and here's my window； and
right across the street from me is Juli； beating up a
bush。 Not conducive to concentration。 No siree； Bob。 I got all of zero homework done。
The next day at school I was trying to get up the nerve to say something to her； but I never
even got the chance。 She wouldn't let me get anywhere
near her。
Then on the ride home I had this thought。 It kind of freaked me out at first； but the more I
played with it； the more I figured that； yeah； helping her
with the yard would make up for my having been such a jerk。 Assuming she didn't boss me
too much； and assuming she didn't decide to get all
……… Page 37………
gooey…eyed or something stupid like that。 No； I'd go up and just tell her that I felt bad for
being a jerk and