over her keyboard. “I make the coolest birthday cards from scratch. They’re amazing!”
“It’s, uh . . .”
Right then, the door to the shop opened and my dad walked in. I’d never been so happy to see those massive shoulders in my life. He wore a green polo shirt with the letters SJP embroidered on the chest, and his black SJP FOOTBALL cap covered his blond hair. He scanned the room, all wide chin and narrowed eyes.
“Dad!” I called, standing up and grabbing my stuff.
He nodded when he saw me. The crowd parted for him as he walked to our table. His whistle was tucked into the pocket of his chinos, the red cord dangling down the side of his leg.
“Thanks for coming to get me, sir,” I told him.
“Hang on a sec, son.” His breath smelled, as always, like peppermint. “Introduce me to your friend.”
“Sorry. Dad, this is Stacey. Stacey, this is my dad, David Cox.”
“So nice to meet you!” Stacey beamed, standing and offering her hand.
My dad flicked a smile, impressed. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said. “Now tell me, is it true that Charlie here tried out for the cross-country team?”
“And he made it!” Stacey eyed me proudly like we were a couple. “He ran a 5K in twenty-six minutes, fifty-eight seconds.”
I shook my head. “How did you—”
She turned her phone’s screen toward me. “I texted Brian and asked for your time. Our families are old friends.”
The Oreo cupcake turned in my stomach. Stalker. One hundred percent stalker.
“That’s an impressive time, son,” my dad said.
“Yeah. Can we go now, please?” I felt the sudden need to get away from Stacey as fast as humanly possible. Darla and Veronica were still watching, and I didn’t want them to get the idea that I was with Stacey. At least not until I figured out if she was crazy. It was still my first day, and I knew better than anyone that first impressions can make or break you. It’s not pretty, but it’s the truth.
“Sure. We need to go home and call your brothers,” my dad said. He turned to Stacey again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Stacey. I hope to see you again.”
“Oh, you will,” Stacey said, giving me a knowing smile.
No. You won’t, I added silently.
“Bye,” I said, practically pushing my dad toward the door.
Outside, I took a deep breath. The streets of downtown Lake Carmody were busy with shoppers, popping in and out of the artsy shops and restaurants. The sun shone and birds twittered in the trees that lined the sidewalk. Confronted with the normalcy, I started to think that maybe I had overreacted. Maybe Stacey really liked me, and shouldn’t I be glad that a smart, pretty girl like her liked me? Then my phone buzzed. I checked the screen. It was a text from Stacey.
MISS YOU ALREADY!
Ugh.
“Well, you’ve had quite a day, haven’t you?” my dad asked, looking me up and down with this sort of awed expression.
“I guess,” I replied.
“Are you kidding?” my dad bellowed, slapping me on the back “I almost peed my pants right in front of the team when I got your text!”
“Dad!” I said through my teeth. Two little old ladies shot him disapproving looks as they strolled by.
“I said, ‘Cross-country? My Charlie? No way.’ ”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I said, embarrassed.
“No. Let’s give credit where credit is due,” he said, giving me a half squeeze, half shake as he turned us up the sidewalk. I saw his red pickup parked near the curb. “You not only survived your first day at a new school, but came out of it with a spot on a varsity team and a very pretty girl. She in the band too? I saw she had one of those instrument cases.”
“Yeah. And the band was awesome,” I told him, slipping my backpack onto my shoulder. “Plus, the director loved my solo.” Ichose not to tell him about the assholes in the drum corps. I felt hot and humiliated around the collar just thinking about it.
“That’s great, son. I’m glad things are
“It’s, uh . . .”
Right then, the door to the shop opened and my dad walked in. I’d never been so happy to see those massive shoulders in my life. He wore a green polo shirt with the letters SJP embroidered on the chest, and his black SJP FOOTBALL cap covered his blond hair. He scanned the room, all wide chin and narrowed eyes.
“Dad!” I called, standing up and grabbing my stuff.
He nodded when he saw me. The crowd parted for him as he walked to our table. His whistle was tucked into the pocket of his chinos, the red cord dangling down the side of his leg.
“Thanks for coming to get me, sir,” I told him.
“Hang on a sec, son.” His breath smelled, as always, like peppermint. “Introduce me to your friend.”
“Sorry. Dad, this is Stacey. Stacey, this is my dad, David Cox.”
“So nice to meet you!” Stacey beamed, standing and offering her hand.
My dad flicked a smile, impressed. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said. “Now tell me, is it true that Charlie here tried out for the cross-country team?”
“And he made it!” Stacey eyed me proudly like we were a couple. “He ran a 5K in twenty-six minutes, fifty-eight seconds.”
I shook my head. “How did you—”
She turned her phone’s screen toward me. “I texted Brian and asked for your time. Our families are old friends.”
The Oreo cupcake turned in my stomach. Stalker. One hundred percent stalker.
“That’s an impressive time, son,” my dad said.
“Yeah. Can we go now, please?” I felt the sudden need to get away from Stacey as fast as humanly possible. Darla and Veronica were still watching, and I didn’t want them to get the idea that I was with Stacey. At least not until I figured out if she was crazy. It was still my first day, and I knew better than anyone that first impressions can make or break you. It’s not pretty, but it’s the truth.
“Sure. We need to go home and call your brothers,” my dad said. He turned to Stacey again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Stacey. I hope to see you again.”
“Oh, you will,” Stacey said, giving me a knowing smile.
No. You won’t, I added silently.
“Bye,” I said, practically pushing my dad toward the door.
Outside, I took a deep breath. The streets of downtown Lake Carmody were busy with shoppers, popping in and out of the artsy shops and restaurants. The sun shone and birds twittered in the trees that lined the sidewalk. Confronted with the normalcy, I started to think that maybe I had overreacted. Maybe Stacey really liked me, and shouldn’t I be glad that a smart, pretty girl like her liked me? Then my phone buzzed. I checked the screen. It was a text from Stacey.
MISS YOU ALREADY!
Ugh.
“Well, you’ve had quite a day, haven’t you?” my dad asked, looking me up and down with this sort of awed expression.
“I guess,” I replied.
“Are you kidding?” my dad bellowed, slapping me on the back “I almost peed my pants right in front of the team when I got your text!”
“Dad!” I said through my teeth. Two little old ladies shot him disapproving looks as they strolled by.
“I said, ‘Cross-country? My Charlie? No way.’ ”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I said, embarrassed.
“No. Let’s give credit where credit is due,” he said, giving me a half squeeze, half shake as he turned us up the sidewalk. I saw his red pickup parked near the curb. “You not only survived your first day at a new school, but came out of it with a spot on a varsity team and a very pretty girl. She in the band too? I saw she had one of those instrument cases.”
“Yeah. And the band was awesome,” I told him, slipping my backpack onto my shoulder. “Plus, the director loved my solo.” Ichose not to tell him about the assholes in the drum corps. I felt hot and humiliated around the collar just thinking about it.
“That’s great, son. I’m glad things are
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