Aaron+D

=Ted= = =

Y'know, I feel like an alien. I'm not! Sure, I think different than everyone else here in my hometown of Cleveland, but just 'cause I'm really smart doesn't mean I'm any different on the inside! People here can be so mean. "Look, Mommy, a nerd!" Shoot. I should've taken that pen out of my pocket. But it could be worse. I have contacts, but if I can't find 'em, I have a pair of super-thick glasses to wear. Ugh. I'm an inventor, and I've made some great inventions, like the auto-toothbrush and the teddy bear that smells smoke.(It has a smoke detector in it!) But I've been called nerd so many times, it's like my nickname. Even my teachers call me that. It just stinks. I'm so lonely. And then I come to the garden. I was walking down the street, trying to ignore the random shouts of "hey, a nerd!", when I'm standing in the entrance. I walk in, past a small patch of strawberries. It was like a diversity party in there! I saw people of all races in that garden. I thought, "If all these people can garden, then an inventor can do it too!" So I ran home. But all there was in our fridge was a small package of white mushrooms. I thought, "good!" because, number one, the garden didn't have any mushrooms in it, and second, the garden could probably use them (they do decompose dead stuff, after all) I grabbed the package and ran back to the garden. I found a nice little spot, worked the ground 'till it was silky smooth, picked out some glass bits, and planted the mushrooms. The next week I was talking to a boy named Virgil. He told me this funny story about how this "tough" guy screamed when a rat ran up his leg, but then he told me about how he couldn't have an eighteen-speed bike because his dad's baby lettuce didn't come out good. Just then, I had a great idea. I ran up to Virgil's dad and asked him, "Hey, I heard about how your lettuce didn't do good. Would you like to try some of the mushrooms that I've grown?" He tried one. "Holy __COW!__" he shouted, "These are DELICIOUS!" So I let him take some mushrooms to the restaurant. (The one where he failed before with the lettuce) He came back with a mile-wide smile on his face. "Son," he said to Virgil, "I think you'll be getting an eighteen-speed sometime soon." Me and Virgil got to be best friends, and boy, that eighteen-speed went __//fast!//__ I guess that's what a diverse garden can do to you. And I'll admit, the mushrooms were a good idea to plant. Finally, that dead rat that no one, not even Leona, wanted to pick up and throw away, is decomposed and in the soil!