were—”
“ We
are so having a
sleepover at your house.” She practically jumped in her seat. “I’ve
had a crush on Mr Thompson for, like—” she flipped her head to one
side, “—two years.”
My tongue pushed into
the side of my cheek. I really did not expect that. I thought she
might be a little humiliated at the least, but I guess it was
better this way. “Two years, huh?”
“ Yup. It’s why I take
History.”
“ That’s…disturbing.”
“ Not really.” She
shrugged, gnawing the tip of her pen. “You could look at it as
though your dad is inspiring my education.”
I wondered if he’d feel the same way.
Instead of rolling my eyes at her, I turned my head back to watch
Dad writing the words ‘Religious History’ on the board.
“ Oh, come now, it’ll
be fun and you know it,” he announced to the groaners around the
room, then turned back to write on the board again.
Emily leaned in. “He’s
right,” she whispered. “He always makes boring topics
fun.”
“ I know.” I smiled to
myself. “He even used to do all the voices of characters when he’d
read to me.”
“ He does that in
class—” Emily laughed, “—when he reads direct from text books.
Sometimes he puts on different accents.”
As I went to laugh, my
eyes darted quickly from my dad to a boy beside me, who jolted
forward in his seat, a scrunched-up piece of paper bouncing off his
desk, landing on his schoolbag a second later. He spun around,
presenting his middle finger to the boys up the back, while my dad
remained oblivious, glancing from a textbook to the
whiteboard.
“ What a loser,” one
of the boys said.
I turned away and
leaned closer to Emily. “Do they know that by making that L sign on
their own heads, they’re technically making themselves look like
losers?”
She rolled her eyes.
“They are losers.”
I let out a small
laugh.
In the seat across
from me, the boy scrunched up a sheet of paper, hiding it under his
desk, keeping his eyes on my dad the whole time. I looked back at
the jocks, who watched the kid with an amused kind of interest,
until they broke formation suddenly, launching to their feet as he
sent a paper cannon into enemy territory.
“ Oh, crap.” Emily
covered her head with her notepad, smiling. “He just started a
war.”
I went to duck too,
but Dad started in with something about Greek gods, forcing a
cease-fire; the jocks sat down, and the boy knocked the ammo into
his open backpack.
“ Looks like they’ll
live to fight another day,” I said.
“ No,” Emily whispered
under my dad’s lecture. “It’ll just be a lunch-room
continuation.”
“ Great. Food
fight?”
She shrugged.
“Probably.”
“ Will David be in
that?”
It was a simple
enough question, but my newfound affections rested too thickly in
the undertone. She turned to me quickly, grinning, and before she
could say Oh, my God, you like
him , I said, “So, does my dad know you
have a crush on him?”
“ No way.” She leaned
back, her eyes wide. “I would be so humiliated.”
I scratched my temple,
wondering how admitting it to his daughter was any less
humiliating.
“ So, how was the library, with David ?” She kind of sung his
name.
I froze, wondering
which parts of my amazing morning I should leave out. “It was okay.
He seems nice.” I nodded casually, but Emily’s smile
grew.
“ You like
him.”
I cleared my throat,
repositioning my chair. “I think he’s...a nice...kid.”
She scoffed in the
back of her throat. And I knew, from the look on her face, exactly
what she was about to say. “You so do like him.”
“ Nope.” I wore the
face of denial, but the cheesy grin in my eyes must have changed
the wording on my neon sign to ‘Oh my God. I totally
do.’
“ I knew it.” She
pointed at me. “I knew it.”
I grabbed her finger
and pushed it down. “I do not like him.”
“ Oh, I’ve seen that look before. You have Knight Fever .”
“ Knight
what?”
“ It’s
“ We
are so having a
sleepover at your house.” She practically jumped in her seat. “I’ve
had a crush on Mr Thompson for, like—” she flipped her head to one
side, “—two years.”
My tongue pushed into
the side of my cheek. I really did not expect that. I thought she
might be a little humiliated at the least, but I guess it was
better this way. “Two years, huh?”
“ Yup. It’s why I take
History.”
“ That’s…disturbing.”
“ Not really.” She
shrugged, gnawing the tip of her pen. “You could look at it as
though your dad is inspiring my education.”
I wondered if he’d feel the same way.
Instead of rolling my eyes at her, I turned my head back to watch
Dad writing the words ‘Religious History’ on the board.
“ Oh, come now, it’ll
be fun and you know it,” he announced to the groaners around the
room, then turned back to write on the board again.
Emily leaned in. “He’s
right,” she whispered. “He always makes boring topics
fun.”
“ I know.” I smiled to
myself. “He even used to do all the voices of characters when he’d
read to me.”
“ He does that in
class—” Emily laughed, “—when he reads direct from text books.
Sometimes he puts on different accents.”
As I went to laugh, my
eyes darted quickly from my dad to a boy beside me, who jolted
forward in his seat, a scrunched-up piece of paper bouncing off his
desk, landing on his schoolbag a second later. He spun around,
presenting his middle finger to the boys up the back, while my dad
remained oblivious, glancing from a textbook to the
whiteboard.
“ What a loser,” one
of the boys said.
I turned away and
leaned closer to Emily. “Do they know that by making that L sign on
their own heads, they’re technically making themselves look like
losers?”
She rolled her eyes.
“They are losers.”
I let out a small
laugh.
In the seat across
from me, the boy scrunched up a sheet of paper, hiding it under his
desk, keeping his eyes on my dad the whole time. I looked back at
the jocks, who watched the kid with an amused kind of interest,
until they broke formation suddenly, launching to their feet as he
sent a paper cannon into enemy territory.
“ Oh, crap.” Emily
covered her head with her notepad, smiling. “He just started a
war.”
I went to duck too,
but Dad started in with something about Greek gods, forcing a
cease-fire; the jocks sat down, and the boy knocked the ammo into
his open backpack.
“ Looks like they’ll
live to fight another day,” I said.
“ No,” Emily whispered
under my dad’s lecture. “It’ll just be a lunch-room
continuation.”
“ Great. Food
fight?”
She shrugged.
“Probably.”
“ Will David be in
that?”
It was a simple
enough question, but my newfound affections rested too thickly in
the undertone. She turned to me quickly, grinning, and before she
could say Oh, my God, you like
him , I said, “So, does my dad know you
have a crush on him?”
“ No way.” She leaned
back, her eyes wide. “I would be so humiliated.”
I scratched my temple,
wondering how admitting it to his daughter was any less
humiliating.
“ So, how was the library, with David ?” She kind of sung his
name.
I froze, wondering
which parts of my amazing morning I should leave out. “It was okay.
He seems nice.” I nodded casually, but Emily’s smile
grew.
“ You like
him.”
I cleared my throat,
repositioning my chair. “I think he’s...a nice...kid.”
She scoffed in the
back of her throat. And I knew, from the look on her face, exactly
what she was about to say. “You so do like him.”
“ Nope.” I wore the
face of denial, but the cheesy grin in my eyes must have changed
the wording on my neon sign to ‘Oh my God. I totally
do.’
“ I knew it.” She
pointed at me. “I knew it.”
I grabbed her finger
and pushed it down. “I do not like him.”
“ Oh, I’ve seen that look before. You have Knight Fever .”
“ Knight
what?”
“ It’s
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