to get out from under yourself.”
With that, she grabbed my arm and whisked me into the sliding, writhing, boogie-woogie-ing mob of teendom, then kept holding my hand, whispering the steps in my ear.
Finally, it all clicked into place, and I had it. Me!
That’s when Lisette moved away, and I found myself dancing beside a boy. And not just any boy—Warner Glassman!
I moved left, with everyone else.
Warner moved right and crashed into me.
“I’m sorry!” I said.
“My glasses! I lost my glasses!”
Just as he said it, I felt my foot come down on something.
Oh, no!
I was on the floor, surrounded by sliding legs, trying not to get stepped on. Warner was with me. I reached, groped for the glasses, praying I hadn’t shattered them. I handed them to him.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
He took them and pushed them onto his nose, which was long, longer than it should be, but still cute.
“They’re fine.” He looked at me through them. “I can’t believe I tried dancing again. I’m such a geek. I attempted to learn for my bar mitzvah last year, and I couldn’t.”
I shrugged. “You know, I couldn’t either, but a friend of mine said, ‘Sometimes, you need to get out from under yourself.’” I reached for his hand, like Lisette had with mine. “Let me help you.”
Then we were dancing along with the others, and Warner was actually following me.
Too soon, the music ended, and it was time to go to class. I figured that was the end of that, but as he turned away, he said, “Hey, I’m Warner, by the way.”
“Emma.”
“Nice dancing with you, Emma.” A long pause. “Uh … maybe…”
“Maybe?”
He looked down. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
I walked to class, Lisette teasing me about having a boyfriend. For the first time, it seemed sort of possible.
Every day that week, Lisette and I sat in my room and did homework. I read through her essays and short stories, correcting her spelling and grammar. She said she’d help me with math sometimes, but so far, she hadn’t. Thursday night, Dad looked in on us. “It’s been so quiet in here, I thought something was wrong. It’s so nice, you girls getting along.”
“Of course we get along,” Lisette said. “We’re sisters. I was just helping Emma with her math.”
She hadn’t been, but I let it slide.
“I’m having so much trouble learning the music in here,” Lisette said the next day after chorus.
“You know, I have it on my iPod. Maybe you could listen to it.”
“Really? That would be so cool. You’re so sweet.”
“Of course you can borrow it.” You just couldn’t not be nice to Lisette.
That afternoon, Thursday, I had to study for a German test, so Lisette and I didn’t do homework together. But when I finished, I went to my nightstand drawer to get her my iPod. It wasn’t there.
I went down to her room. She was sitting on the bed, texting.
“Hey, you didn’t take my iPod to listen to that song, did you?”
Lisette adjusted her position on the pillows. “Of course not.”
“I just, you know, couldn’t find it.” Now I felt like I needed to explain that I wasn’t accusing her of stealing or anything. I just wanted to let her know why I didn’t have the iPod, even though I promised it to her. That was all. “So I thought maybe, since I said you could borrow it, you might just have taken it. I mean, gotten it.”
She looked up now, staring at me with her cool blue eyes. “I said no.”
I nodded. “Okay, I guess I must have left it lying around somewhere.” I looked down, but I could still feel her staring at me. I wanted to change the subject, make everything okay. “So, do you want to do the algebra assignment?”
“Finished it.”
“Language arts?”
“Finished that too.”
Language arts had been twenty-seven sentences with the vocabulary words. No way could she have finished all of them. Not without time traveling.
“Look, I’m busy,” she said.
“You’re texting.”
“I’m
With that, she grabbed my arm and whisked me into the sliding, writhing, boogie-woogie-ing mob of teendom, then kept holding my hand, whispering the steps in my ear.
Finally, it all clicked into place, and I had it. Me!
That’s when Lisette moved away, and I found myself dancing beside a boy. And not just any boy—Warner Glassman!
I moved left, with everyone else.
Warner moved right and crashed into me.
“I’m sorry!” I said.
“My glasses! I lost my glasses!”
Just as he said it, I felt my foot come down on something.
Oh, no!
I was on the floor, surrounded by sliding legs, trying not to get stepped on. Warner was with me. I reached, groped for the glasses, praying I hadn’t shattered them. I handed them to him.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
He took them and pushed them onto his nose, which was long, longer than it should be, but still cute.
“They’re fine.” He looked at me through them. “I can’t believe I tried dancing again. I’m such a geek. I attempted to learn for my bar mitzvah last year, and I couldn’t.”
I shrugged. “You know, I couldn’t either, but a friend of mine said, ‘Sometimes, you need to get out from under yourself.’” I reached for his hand, like Lisette had with mine. “Let me help you.”
Then we were dancing along with the others, and Warner was actually following me.
Too soon, the music ended, and it was time to go to class. I figured that was the end of that, but as he turned away, he said, “Hey, I’m Warner, by the way.”
“Emma.”
“Nice dancing with you, Emma.” A long pause. “Uh … maybe…”
“Maybe?”
He looked down. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
I walked to class, Lisette teasing me about having a boyfriend. For the first time, it seemed sort of possible.
Every day that week, Lisette and I sat in my room and did homework. I read through her essays and short stories, correcting her spelling and grammar. She said she’d help me with math sometimes, but so far, she hadn’t. Thursday night, Dad looked in on us. “It’s been so quiet in here, I thought something was wrong. It’s so nice, you girls getting along.”
“Of course we get along,” Lisette said. “We’re sisters. I was just helping Emma with her math.”
She hadn’t been, but I let it slide.
“I’m having so much trouble learning the music in here,” Lisette said the next day after chorus.
“You know, I have it on my iPod. Maybe you could listen to it.”
“Really? That would be so cool. You’re so sweet.”
“Of course you can borrow it.” You just couldn’t not be nice to Lisette.
That afternoon, Thursday, I had to study for a German test, so Lisette and I didn’t do homework together. But when I finished, I went to my nightstand drawer to get her my iPod. It wasn’t there.
I went down to her room. She was sitting on the bed, texting.
“Hey, you didn’t take my iPod to listen to that song, did you?”
Lisette adjusted her position on the pillows. “Of course not.”
“I just, you know, couldn’t find it.” Now I felt like I needed to explain that I wasn’t accusing her of stealing or anything. I just wanted to let her know why I didn’t have the iPod, even though I promised it to her. That was all. “So I thought maybe, since I said you could borrow it, you might just have taken it. I mean, gotten it.”
She looked up now, staring at me with her cool blue eyes. “I said no.”
I nodded. “Okay, I guess I must have left it lying around somewhere.” I looked down, but I could still feel her staring at me. I wanted to change the subject, make everything okay. “So, do you want to do the algebra assignment?”
“Finished it.”
“Language arts?”
“Finished that too.”
Language arts had been twenty-seven sentences with the vocabulary words. No way could she have finished all of them. Not without time traveling.
“Look, I’m busy,” she said.
“You’re texting.”
“I’m
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