OyMG by Amy Fellner Dominy

When we hit the lobby, I took a deep breath. The air felt cooler out here. Like I could breathe easy again.
    Groups of kids veered off down the different hallways, and for a minute we had to concentrate on dodging traffic. Once we hit our hallway, Megan grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “Did you catch Devon giving you the eye? Because I did.” She dipped her head so she could look over the edge of her glasses and bat her eyelashes. “As an expert in sizzle, I can tell he’s falling for you. Big time.”
    I shook my arm free. “He is not falling for me.”
    â€œHe might be,” she said. “Instead of grilling him with questions, I’d be searing him with my lips.”
    I groaned. “When did you come up with that one?”
    â€œThis weekend. I’ve been saving it.”
    We reached my classroom door. Hers was farther down—I could see Anna sitting on the carpet with a book in her hands.
    â€œI’ve thought about this over and over,” I said. I ticked off the points with my fingers. “One: Mrs. Yeats is a nice lady. Two: she’s intelligent and sophisticated. Three: nice, intelligent, sophisticated ladies do not hate an entire race.”
    Megan adjusted a plastic pink flower she’d pinned to her raspberry top. “If you say so.”
    â€œAs soon as I get a chance, I’m going to ask Devon to explain.”
    â€œReally?” Her eyes shifted to look over my shoulder. “Then here’s your chance. He’s headed this way.”

CHAPTER 17
    Before I could blink, my heart had jumped into hyperdrive. How could I ask him anything with my breath coming so fast? Besides, Peter was standing there, too, shaking orange Tic Tacs into his mouth. Plus, other kids were wandering up and the hallway was filling. A second after Megan took off, Sarah showed and we compared weekends. By the time we were done, Mrs. Lee had opened the door. Everyone pressed forward, but I hung back. My mouth turned dry as toast when I realized Devon had waited, too.
    He tilted his head in greeting. “Wonder what torture Lee’s got planned for us this week?”
    â€œCan hardly wait,” I said.
    We shuffled forward a few more steps until he was so close I could smell the fabric softener on his shirt and feel the warmth of his arm next to mine. Breathe, I reminded myself. Breathe.
    â€œMy grandmother mentioned you this weekend.”
    I shot him a surprised look, but this close, all I could see was the underside of his chin. “What did she say?”
    â€œShe thought you were very poised.” He paused. “Or did she say possessed?” He dipped his head just enough for me to see his half grin.
    I rolled my eyes, and he laughed. Then we were in the door, and I went to my chair and he went to his. If we both went to Benedict’s next year, would it be like this?
    Totally and completely perfect?
    I didn’t have more time to daydream. Today we were picking topics. “This is the most important part of your oratory,” Mrs. Lee told us. “Once you pick a topic, you’ll spend all your time researching, writing, practicing, and performing. You’ll live and breathe this topic for the remainder of camp, so you’d better make sure it’s one that resonates with you.”
    She walked down each aisle and laid an index card on every desk. “Too often, oratory topics can become a lecture on a general world problem. Students scan the headlines and write a well-researched argument.”
    I found myself nodding. That was how we’d done it in middle school.
    â€œWhat can sometimes be missing is the personal connection,” Mrs. Lee said. “No matter how far reaching your topic, it should be one that also hits close to home.” She walked back to the front of the room. “Remember, oratory is the only event that allows you to choose your subject and then argue any position you want. That’s why it’s