Landry in Like by Krysten Lindsay Hager

Look at how tiny the print is. I’ll go blind reading this.”
    I laughed. “Yeah, that one doesn’t seem like a lot of fun. This one here has pictures in it. Pictures make everything better.”
    He laughed. “Definitely. This whole time period is so boring to me. My history teacher last semester was super interesting. She’d bring in movies about whatever we were studying or sometimes she’d read from a novel that was from the same time period. I liked her class. This guy is so dull that people fall asleep in class, and he doesn’t bother to wake them up anymore. I think it’s because he’s embarrassed it happens so often.”
    â€œWow, public school must be different. I can’t imagine anyone at Hillcrest falling asleep and living to tell.”
    Vladi cracked up. “I have heard your school is a lot stricter. This guy, Jason, fell asleep last week. He actually drooled onto the desk, and Mr. Oxford acted like he didn’t notice. I felt bad for the person who had to sit there the next hour. I mean, Jason wiped the drool with his sleeve, but come on — that’s gross.”
    â€œDo I need to bring antibacterial wipes with me next year?” I asked.
    He cracked up. “So you’re definitely coming to Central then?”
    â€œI think so. There are a lot of people in my class going to St. Faustina’s. I haven’t made up my mind though.”
    â€œWhy not? What does St. Faustina’s have that Central doesn’t?”
    I shrugged. How did I say St. Faustina’s, a smaller private school, seemed safer — more structured, like I’d be protected there — whereas Central, a big public school, seemed like being thrown into the deep end of the pool without floaties.
    â€œIt’s a little smaller and seems like you get to know the teachers and students better with the class sizes,” I said.
    â€œYeah, but it’s missing a major thing.”
    â€œThe dress code?” I asked.
    â€œAh, no.”
    â€œIt’s not as laid back as Central?”
    â€œMe. It’s missing me,” he said.
    â€œOh well, yeah, there’s that,” I said as my face got warm.
    â€œOh, so you don’t care if I’m not there,” he said, putting a book back on the shelf.
    I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not and I didn’t want to jump in and say, “Oh, of course I do!” and look dumb if he was just joking around. So I played it safe and just shrugged.
    â€œSeriously? I don’t factor into your decision at all?” he asked. He seemed hurt, and I could tell from how serious his tone was that he meant it.
    â€œOf course, but I dunno. It’s a hard decision to make. My friends haven’t all decided where they’re going yet and it’s…” I paused and tried to find the right words. “Well, Central seems so huge and I feel like…”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike…”
    â€œLandry, you can tell me anything,” he said.
    Um, no, no I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him how sweet I thought he was or that I started my period two days ago or that I knew I wasn’t supposed to kiss him in the library, but I kept hoping he would try anyway. However, it was cute that he wanted me to share everything with him. I was super scared about starting high school, but I wanted him to think I was this confident, sophisticated girl who had it all together. Problem was that I wasn’t. But if he and I were going to work out as boyfriend and girlfriend then I guess he’d have to like me as I was because pretending would get old fast. I wasn’t even sure I was that good of a pretender and let’s face it — once I got to high school and wet my pants from fear on the first day (or had other bathroom issues), he’d figure out real quick I wasn’t exactly Miss Self-assured.
    â€œI feel like I could get lost there and I don’t mean