Chronicles of a Lizard Nobody: Chapters 6–10

There they saw an enormous — and enormously upright — hawk sitting immobile on the back of the front-row bus seat, his claws digging terrifyingly into the plastic not-leather cushion.

Sunglasses weren’t allowed at school. Principal Wombat didn’t like them, said they contributed to unruly behavior, but that hardly mattered as what kid ever wore sunglasses?

“I AM SITTING RIGHT HERE!” Miel said. “IT IS RUDE NOT TO ADDRESS ME DIRECTLY!”
“Sorry,” Daniel said meekly. Hawks were natural predators of lizards, but no one ate anyone anymore. Right?

“ARE YOU LIZARDS?”
“How did you know that?” Zeke asked, surprised.
“I AM BLIND! I AM NOT AN IDIOT!”
Zeke hurried to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“NO, I AM JUST MESSING WITH YOU! IT IS FUN! HA HA! I COULD TELL YOU WERE LIZARDS IN MANY WAYS! SCENT, SIZE, BODY HEAT, TIMBRE OF YOUR VOICES!”

“He might be French, you know,” Alicia said as they walked up the cul-de-sac where all three lived in different houses.

...it passed down as an inheritance through the boys of the family, despite that being an “archaic legacy of patriarchy,” according to nearly every woman in Zeke’s life, including Alicia, her mom, and both of Daniel’s moms.

...it passed down as an inheritance through the boys of the family, despite that being an “archaic legacy of patriarchy,” according to nearly every woman in Zeke’s life, including Alicia, her mom, and both of Daniel’s moms.

Everyone else was watching, too. All the springboks playing baseball, the pandas who controlled the big wooden slides, even the nerdy pangolins who played D&D in the shade of the library.

“That’s enough, both of you,” Principal Wombat said. “Now, Zeke, have you got something to say to Pelicarnassus, here in front of all your classmates, setting a good example of conflict resolution and friendship between animals of very different species?”
“Well,” said Zeke, who felt like this was an awful lot of pressure on one measly apology to a lying, bullying, wannabe supervillain, “I guess so.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For . . .?” prompted Principal Wombat.

Zeke rapidly rushed out the rest of the apology he’d been forced to agree to after Principal Wombat couldn’t get hold of his mom. “And I’m sorry I didn’t choose to solve our conflict in a peaceful and constructive way that would result in...” He paused, forgetting the rest.
“’Mutual understanding,’” whispered Principal Wombat.
“Mutual understanding, leading to amity and good relations.”

Zeke rapidly rushed out the rest of the apology he’d been forced to agree to after Principal Wombat couldn’t get hold of his mom. “And I’m sorry I didn’t choose to solve our conflict in a peaceful and constructive way that would result in...” He paused, forgetting the rest.
“’Mutual understanding,’” whispered Principal Wombat.
“Mutual understanding, leading to amity and good relations.”

Then a whole squadron of jets, each not more than a centimeter across, flew up his bedspread toward his knee.

The French jets swooped and fired rockets at the remaining hostile planes, which all fled. The rockets all intentionally missed. The French weren’t barbarians — there was no need to kill anyone — but they were ridiculously brave.

The pelican frowned at this. “There’s no need for escalation.”
“Get out,” Zeke repeated more forcefully.