Girl Against the Universe by Paula Stokes Page A

completely healed. I’m hoping once I finish the requirements for my diploma that my parents will let me turn pro.”
    â€œYou’re eighteen, right? Could they actually stop you?”
    He sighs. “No, but there’s a lot involved in being on the tour. Travel and tournament draws and ranking points and payouts. I don’t know enough to handle all that stuff by myself.” He trains his eyes on his lap. “I guess it sounds lame, but I need my parents.”
    â€œI don’t think that’s lame.” I remember the big gaping hole left by my dad’s absence in the months following the accident. He’d been the one who went to my parent–teacherconferences, the one who taught me mnemonics to memorize the Great Lakes and the Earth’s atmospheres. Whenever I did something silly, my dad always made me feel better by telling me a story from the firehouse about someone who had done something even sillier. Sometimes you don’t realize all the things a person does for you until they aren’t there to do them anymore.
    â€œPlus my future is their dream too,” Jordy says. “I want to share it, but it sucks that we want different things. They want me to play collegiate tennis instead of turning pro—let my game mature, get a degree to fall back on.”
    â€œDoes it stress you out? All of those expectations?”
    He takes another bite of his burrito and chews thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes it does. I wish more people would ask me that.”
    I angle my body so I can see both Jordy and the TV. “It seems like an obvious question.”
    â€œUsually all people our age care about is how awesome it is to be an athlete. How many famous people have I met? What awesome trips have I gotten to take?” He twists his napkin into a rope and coils it around one hand. “And then the adults, they only care about my grades or how my game is or whether I’m behaving in public.”
    â€œI’m sure they care about more than that.” I bite into my burrito again, trying not to drip sauce down my chin.
    â€œYeah, maybe.” He doesn’t look convinced.
    I swallow another mouthful of meat, cheese, and Frenchfries. “So how do you handle it—all the expectations?”
    â€œPoorly?” Jordy drops his twisted napkin onto the table and reaches for another packet of sauce. “Apparently I do things like cancel weekend practice sessions to help pretty girls.”
    â€œJordy!” His name feels strange on my lips. “You shouldn’t have skipped your own stuff to help me.”
    â€œOne or two missed practices won’t kill me, as long as my coach doesn’t narc me out to my parents. I told him I was hitting around with one of my friends, so mostly true, right?” He drizzles more sauce on his burrito.
    â€œI don’t want you to skip practices for me,” I say firmly.
    â€œOkay, but it wasn’t just for you—it was for shrink homework too. Plus sometimes I just need a break. I need to hang out with someone who I can be real with.”
    Before I can respond, the front door opens and the alarm system starts beeping quietly. Instinctively, I slide away from Jordy and focus my attention on my burrito.
    â€œProbably just my sister,” he says. He starts to say something else, but then the beeping turns into a shrill electronic siren.

CHAPTER 12
    â€œCrap.” Jordy jumps up from the sofa.
    I follow him into the foyer, where a blonde girl in jeans and a T-shirt is busy punching buttons on a control panel just inside the door. Her hair is hanging in her face, and she’s got smudges of something black on one arm. It takes me a second to recognize her.
    â€œJesus, Penn,” Jordy says. “How hard is it to remember the code?”
    â€œI feel like Dad changes it every week now,” she hollers over the shrieking.
    Jordy slides in next to her and punches a few buttons. The noise stops. A