Dreamland by Sarah Dessen Page A

quarterback, a short little guy, all pointy and pock-marked, but whenever I asked her what she saw in him she just smiled and shook her head.
    â€œYou’ll see someday,” she’d say, and I’d look at Bill again and wonder what she meant. She’d spent all week pushing me together in the courtyard and on the bus with Mike Evans, a running back who was tall and a little dopey with pretty blue eyes. We were meeting him and Bill at the party and I was under stern instructions to accept his letter jacket—which would signify that we were now officially dating after the past couple of weeks of flirting—if it was offered to me.
    There was another spurt of Lysol from inside the car and Kelly said, “Hey, Caitlin, grab that dollar out of the ashtray and go get some quarters, okay?”
    â€œOkay.” I hopped down and reached into the car for the money, then walked down past the washing bays to the change machine. There were no other cars except a BMW convertible, at the very end. It was black and parked crooked, with the top down.
    I put the dollar in the machine and four quarters clanked out into my hand. As I turned around to walk back, my breath clouding out around my face in the cold, I got my first look at Rogerson Biscoe.
    He was standing next to the black BMW, arms crossed, looking down at the car. He was in a short-sleeved shirt with a kind of tribal print, and old khaki pants with worn cuffs. His hair was brown, a mass of curls thick enough that they were almost like dreadlocks, and he had a dark, kind of olive complexion. He wore a leather cord necklace around his neck and penny loafers with no socks on his feet. He didn’t look like Bill Skerrit or the rest of the guys I knew. He didn’t look like anybody.
    As I passed he looked up and watched me, staring.
    â€œHey,” he called out just as I passed out of sight. Around the corner Rina was talking, her voice high and light, and I could smell Lysol.
    I took a few steps back and suddenly he was right there; he’d moved to catch up with me. Up close I could see his eyes were a deep green. I realized I was staring but somehow I couldn’t stop.
    â€œYou got change for a ten?” he said suddenly, holding up a bill folded between two fingers.
    â€œUh, no,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
    He smiled, then looked me up and down. Suddenly I knew I looked idiotic in my cheerleading uniform, not to mention the sequined top: I felt bright and tacky enough to explode. “Nice outfit,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was joking.
    â€œOh,” I said, looking down. “Yeah, well.”
    He glanced at the bandage on my upper arm, then asked, “What happened to you there?”
    â€œCaitlin!” I heard Kelly shout. “Where are you?”
    â€œI’m coming,” I called back, then said to him, “I fell off a pyramid earlier tonight.”
    â€œOuch,” he said, and before I could even move he reached out and touched my bandage, running a finger across it. Then he looked up at me and said, “You okay?”
    â€œI ... I don’t know,” I said. This was strangely true at that moment.
    â€œCaitlin, we’re going to miss the whole party—” I heard Rina saying suddenly behind me, her voice growing louder as she impatiently rounded the corner, her cheerleading sneakers squeaking against the pavement. I turned around and she stopped suddenly, staring.
    â€œI’m coming,” I said quickly. I glanced back at the strange guy in front of me and he was smiling, his green eyes almost glittering.
    â€œOkay,” she said just as fast, and I heard her backing away around the corner.
    â€œI should go,” I said, but it was like someone else was talking. My head felt fuzzy and strange, and I wondered if maybe I had whacked it on the way down.
    â€œSure,” he said nodding. “See ya around, Caitlin.” And he raised his chin,