pulled a five-dollar bill out of her jeans pocket, “go get me a creamsicle.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, now.”
Rebecca hesitated for a second, but then got up and left the table. She didn’t look at me which made me even more uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat. “I imagine, uh, all those things would create a lot of pressure on you.” I swallowed hard. “Let’s go back on the record.” Are you going out with Rebecca ?
As if to answer my unspoken question, Jessie snapped, “On the record, Raines. Be careful.” Her eyes burned a hole in my face as she poked the metal table with each word. “Be real careful with Rebecca.”
I swallowed hard and eked out, “What do you mean?”
Jessie stood up abruptly. “I’m warning you, Raines. Don’t play with fire. Interview over.” She stomped back across the gravel and slammed the cafeteria door open. It was only when the door shut again that I realized I’d been holding my breath.
Chapter Five
The Maplewoods Mall
ON THE WAY to Wednesday’s French class, I smiled when I heard Jessie call Rebecca babe again in my mind. I thought about coming out to Rebecca, but then again, maybe Rebecca wasn’t gay, and she and Jessie weren’t really together. Maybe my mind had made up those things. Part of me—well, most of me—didn’t buy the “just friends” things, though. Gail and I had been close friends since fourth grade, and we didn’t call each other babe. More like dork or nimrod, but not babe. Jessie slipped, or maybe she said it on purpose to let me know they were together.
I shook my head as I walked down the hall to French because my troubles were small compared to the rest of the world. It was Veteran’s Day and a lot of kids, both guys and girls, joined the military right out of Grasse River High School, so it was one of the town’s biggest holidays. We had a moment of silence during homeroom for some former students killed in the war in the Middle East. The announcement bummed everybody out, but it made me wish I could have gone to the parade that morning. Maybe Rebecca would have wanted to go, too, but the parade kicked off at 11:00 in the morning when we were stuck at school. My dad told me they always had the parade on November 11 at 11:00 because that was the date and time they signed the treaty ending World War I. Rebecca and I would have had to cut school to go to the parade anyway, but I didn’t think Rebecca was into cutting school.
I settled into my usual seat and waited for her to walk in. I tried to hide my excitement when she smiled at me and headed to her new seat in the back of the room.
“ Bonjour, Ms. Journalist. Comment va le journal ?”
“ Bonjour , Ms. Dancer. The newspaper’s fine. I finally got the varsity golf article from Joey Pitone, so now I have all of them. I’ll tell you what, being an editor ain’t easy. Some of these people can’t place a comma if their lives depended on it.”
When she laughed, the sweet sound yanked my perma-grin from the depths where I had stuffed it. I could dedicate my life to making her laugh.
She said, “That must be a tough job, but promise me one thing.”
Anything. Everything. “ What?”
“If I ever misplace a comma, be gentle. Okay?”
I burst out laughing. Several kids looked at me, but I didn’t care. I know my smile took over my whole face. “I will always be gentle with you.” Whoa, did I just say that? I hadn’t meant to flirt. It just came out.
Rebecca seemed to take my flirting in stride, though. “Toi, oui, Devon Raines, I’m sure you would.”
Mme Depardieu called the class to order. We were going to read some kind of short story in the textbook, all in French, of course, and then answer questions on a worksheet.
As Mme Depardieu handed out the dreaded worksheets, Rebecca learned over and whispered, “I got my application.”
“What application?”
“The Karen Swanson School of Dance in New York. It’s a summer program.”
“Cool.
“Now?”
“Yeah, now.”
Rebecca hesitated for a second, but then got up and left the table. She didn’t look at me which made me even more uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat. “I imagine, uh, all those things would create a lot of pressure on you.” I swallowed hard. “Let’s go back on the record.” Are you going out with Rebecca ?
As if to answer my unspoken question, Jessie snapped, “On the record, Raines. Be careful.” Her eyes burned a hole in my face as she poked the metal table with each word. “Be real careful with Rebecca.”
I swallowed hard and eked out, “What do you mean?”
Jessie stood up abruptly. “I’m warning you, Raines. Don’t play with fire. Interview over.” She stomped back across the gravel and slammed the cafeteria door open. It was only when the door shut again that I realized I’d been holding my breath.
Chapter Five
The Maplewoods Mall
ON THE WAY to Wednesday’s French class, I smiled when I heard Jessie call Rebecca babe again in my mind. I thought about coming out to Rebecca, but then again, maybe Rebecca wasn’t gay, and she and Jessie weren’t really together. Maybe my mind had made up those things. Part of me—well, most of me—didn’t buy the “just friends” things, though. Gail and I had been close friends since fourth grade, and we didn’t call each other babe. More like dork or nimrod, but not babe. Jessie slipped, or maybe she said it on purpose to let me know they were together.
I shook my head as I walked down the hall to French because my troubles were small compared to the rest of the world. It was Veteran’s Day and a lot of kids, both guys and girls, joined the military right out of Grasse River High School, so it was one of the town’s biggest holidays. We had a moment of silence during homeroom for some former students killed in the war in the Middle East. The announcement bummed everybody out, but it made me wish I could have gone to the parade that morning. Maybe Rebecca would have wanted to go, too, but the parade kicked off at 11:00 in the morning when we were stuck at school. My dad told me they always had the parade on November 11 at 11:00 because that was the date and time they signed the treaty ending World War I. Rebecca and I would have had to cut school to go to the parade anyway, but I didn’t think Rebecca was into cutting school.
I settled into my usual seat and waited for her to walk in. I tried to hide my excitement when she smiled at me and headed to her new seat in the back of the room.
“ Bonjour, Ms. Journalist. Comment va le journal ?”
“ Bonjour , Ms. Dancer. The newspaper’s fine. I finally got the varsity golf article from Joey Pitone, so now I have all of them. I’ll tell you what, being an editor ain’t easy. Some of these people can’t place a comma if their lives depended on it.”
When she laughed, the sweet sound yanked my perma-grin from the depths where I had stuffed it. I could dedicate my life to making her laugh.
She said, “That must be a tough job, but promise me one thing.”
Anything. Everything. “ What?”
“If I ever misplace a comma, be gentle. Okay?”
I burst out laughing. Several kids looked at me, but I didn’t care. I know my smile took over my whole face. “I will always be gentle with you.” Whoa, did I just say that? I hadn’t meant to flirt. It just came out.
Rebecca seemed to take my flirting in stride, though. “Toi, oui, Devon Raines, I’m sure you would.”
Mme Depardieu called the class to order. We were going to read some kind of short story in the textbook, all in French, of course, and then answer questions on a worksheet.
As Mme Depardieu handed out the dreaded worksheets, Rebecca learned over and whispered, “I got my application.”
“What application?”
“The Karen Swanson School of Dance in New York. It’s a summer program.”
“Cool.
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