Rhyme Schemer
Authors: K.A. Holt
Copyright © 2014 by K.A. Holt.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Holt, K. A., author.
Rhyme schemer / by K.A. Holt.
pages cm
Summary: A novel in verse about Kevin's journey from bully to being bullied, as he learns about friendship, family, and his talent for poetry.
ISBN 978-1-4521-2700-2 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4521-3243-3 (epub, mobi)
1. PoetryâJuvenile fiction. 2. BullyingâJuvenile fiction. 3. FriendshipâJuvenile fiction. 4. FamiliesâJuvenile fiction. [1. Novels in verse. 2. PoetryâFiction. 3. BullyingâFiction. 4. FriendshipâFiction. 5. Family lifeâFiction. 6. Humorous stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.5.H65Rh 2014
[Fic]âdc23
2013032175
Design by Jennifer Tolo Pierce.
Typeset in Susan Classic and Flyerfonts.
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To my parents, Don and Carole Holt,
who made sure I grew up with a pen in one hand
and a book in the other
DAY I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE
    Â
68
DAY 30-SOMETHING
    Â
72
LATER MONDAY
    Â
98
LATER THURSDAY
    Â
105
LATER FRIDAY
    Â
112
FRIDAY NEVER ENDS
    Â
128
FRIDAY NEVER ENDS, THE OUTSIDE OF THE RESTAURANT EDITION
    Â
129
FRIDAY RESCUE
    Â
133
TIME STANDS STILL (AKA: HARTWICK'S OFFICE) ((AGAIN))
    Â
145
Acknowledgments
    Â
165
NECKTIE POEMS
    Â
168
About the Author
    Â
171
First day of school.
My favorite.
Easy prey.
Giant John.
A parade float of himself.
Freckle-Face Kelly,
like a painting
by that one guy
who drank too much beer
and went crazy.
Robin is so short.
I am a dinosaur
stepping on his lunch.
Plus,
his name is Robin.
So many
weenies.
So little
time.
King of the seventh grade
can't choose his own throne.
Assigned seats.
Not everyone's favorite.
Not
my
favorite.
But you know what?
My seat is next to
Freckle-Face Kelly.
Connect the dots,
all
day
long.
My brother Petey is in a band
so he always plays air guitar
while he lurches us over curbs
and through red lights
when he drives me to school.
His band is called
The Band with No Name
because it has no name.
Duh.
He and his bandmates can only think of
lame ideas for names.
Like the Flaming Turtles
or Midnight Pukefest
or Mustache Farm.
My ideas are great
but he never listens to me
only to music
with too many guitars.
I could learn the guitar.
Mrs. Smithson.
My teacher.
She has this mole.
I've named it Harry.
Not because it IS hairy
but because it's not.
That's called
irony.
I think.
Harry gives a shake
when Mrs. Smithson
sneezes
turns her head
walks too fast
laughs
hollers.
If Harry changes color
I would suggest
Mrs. Smithson seeks
a doctor
more makeup
a bag over her head
a Band-Aid
a black pointy hat.
Sometimes I wonder
about the coffee cups.
Every teacher has one,
even the PE teacher
who has so much energy
he seems to float just above the gym mats.
What's in those cups?
Witches' brew?
Ugly potion?
Bad hair broth?
It smells like coffee,
but judging from their breath
I'm sure it's way worse than just that.
I found the page in an old book.
No one will miss it.
No one reads those old books anyway.
The words just jumped out at me
like tickly little fleas
needing a good scratching.
So I scratched them.
And no one will know it was me.
I stuck it on the wall by the lockers
when no one was looking.
I couldn't help it.
I thought people would laugh.
People did laugh.
A lot.
Until Mrs. Smithson yanked it down.
She was not laughing.
