each other since school got out in the spring.”
Ken nodded. “Yeah. True. You look great, by the way. Being a junior agrees with you.”
Sammi arched an eyebrow. “Was that some kind of line?”
He laughed. “Maybe a little. Doesn’t make it untrue.”
“Dude, you are so going to have to work harder than that. I don’t just mean with me, but in general. You could do with lessons.”
“Are you suggesting I’m not smooth?”
“Chunky peanut butter. Extra chunky. Especially from a guy I’ve known since, what, fourth grade?”
Ken hung his head in mock shame. “I’m deeply wounded.”
Sammi laughed and shut her locker, holding her books in the crook of one arm. “Somehow I think you’ll survive. When’s your first game?”
“This Friday. You gonna come cheer us on?”
“I was never much of a cheerleader. The uniforms are creepy fetish objects for drooling, unshaven pervs desperately in need of a bath.”
Ken shrugged. “All guys love girls in cheerleader uniforms.”
She shook her head. “Still, creepy.”
“I just figured you’d come, with Simone on the girls’ team and all.”
Sammi blinked. “She made the team?”
“Didn’t you know?”
Innocent enough, the question still erased the smile from her face. Sammi glanced away a moment and then gave him an apologetic look.
“We’re sort of not talking at the moment.”
Scratching the back of his head, searching for something to say, Ken settled for the obvious. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It happens. I’m glad she made it, though.”
Relieved to be back on comfortable terrain—basketball—he nodded. “Yeah. She surprised everyone. Sure, she’s tall. A lot of people think that automatically means you can play hoops. But that’s just stupid. Tall people are just as clumsy as anyone else. But Simone’s way more athletic than I ever would’ve thought. I mean, she edits the school paper.”
Sammi arched an eyebrow. “So nerds can’t play sports.”
“Not usually, no.” Ken smiled as if to say that might sound prejudiced, but it was also true. “Plus, she’s…”
“You can say it. She’s gorgeous.”
“Hey, you said it. But it’s no lie. She’s, like, the last person I’d expect to be able to play that well.”
“And now she’s your perfect woman.”
He paled a little. “I didn’t say that.”
Sammi gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Kenny. I can’t talk you up to her. Like I said, we’re kinda not talking at the moment. But go for it. Maybe you guys can play some one on one.”
“Now you’re talking.”
She held up a hand. “Enough. And, I’m just saying, gross.”
The morning bell rang and they walked together until Sammi had to split off from him and go into her homeroom. Ken called out to someone and ran to catch up, and then Sammi stepped into the room, steeling herself to see T.Q. Her smile vanished and she put on a mask of stillness and calm.
But T.Q. wasn’t in the room, and by the time the bell rang for the students to make their way to their first classes of the day, she still had not shown up.
Only when Sammi walked into her fourth-period English class and saw that Letty and Katsuko were not in their usual seats at the back of the room—were, in fact, not there at all—did she realize that none of them had shown up for school. All day she had been on edge, anticipating that first encounter, but it wasn’t coming.
When the bell rang signaling the end of fourth period, she flooded out into the corridor with the rest of the class. Her locker was on the other side of the school, and the growling of her stomach helped her decide not to bother switching her books around for trig until after lunch.
On the west wing stairs, she looked out the window and saw them. All four of them were there, talking and laughing. They’d come to school after all, just hadn’t bothered to come inside. Sammi froze on the stairs, the flow of students moving around her, some of them muttering in
Ken nodded. “Yeah. True. You look great, by the way. Being a junior agrees with you.”
Sammi arched an eyebrow. “Was that some kind of line?”
He laughed. “Maybe a little. Doesn’t make it untrue.”
“Dude, you are so going to have to work harder than that. I don’t just mean with me, but in general. You could do with lessons.”
“Are you suggesting I’m not smooth?”
“Chunky peanut butter. Extra chunky. Especially from a guy I’ve known since, what, fourth grade?”
Ken hung his head in mock shame. “I’m deeply wounded.”
Sammi laughed and shut her locker, holding her books in the crook of one arm. “Somehow I think you’ll survive. When’s your first game?”
“This Friday. You gonna come cheer us on?”
“I was never much of a cheerleader. The uniforms are creepy fetish objects for drooling, unshaven pervs desperately in need of a bath.”
Ken shrugged. “All guys love girls in cheerleader uniforms.”
She shook her head. “Still, creepy.”
“I just figured you’d come, with Simone on the girls’ team and all.”
Sammi blinked. “She made the team?”
“Didn’t you know?”
Innocent enough, the question still erased the smile from her face. Sammi glanced away a moment and then gave him an apologetic look.
“We’re sort of not talking at the moment.”
Scratching the back of his head, searching for something to say, Ken settled for the obvious. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It happens. I’m glad she made it, though.”
Relieved to be back on comfortable terrain—basketball—he nodded. “Yeah. She surprised everyone. Sure, she’s tall. A lot of people think that automatically means you can play hoops. But that’s just stupid. Tall people are just as clumsy as anyone else. But Simone’s way more athletic than I ever would’ve thought. I mean, she edits the school paper.”
Sammi arched an eyebrow. “So nerds can’t play sports.”
“Not usually, no.” Ken smiled as if to say that might sound prejudiced, but it was also true. “Plus, she’s…”
“You can say it. She’s gorgeous.”
“Hey, you said it. But it’s no lie. She’s, like, the last person I’d expect to be able to play that well.”
“And now she’s your perfect woman.”
He paled a little. “I didn’t say that.”
Sammi gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Kenny. I can’t talk you up to her. Like I said, we’re kinda not talking at the moment. But go for it. Maybe you guys can play some one on one.”
“Now you’re talking.”
She held up a hand. “Enough. And, I’m just saying, gross.”
The morning bell rang and they walked together until Sammi had to split off from him and go into her homeroom. Ken called out to someone and ran to catch up, and then Sammi stepped into the room, steeling herself to see T.Q. Her smile vanished and she put on a mask of stillness and calm.
But T.Q. wasn’t in the room, and by the time the bell rang for the students to make their way to their first classes of the day, she still had not shown up.
Only when Sammi walked into her fourth-period English class and saw that Letty and Katsuko were not in their usual seats at the back of the room—were, in fact, not there at all—did she realize that none of them had shown up for school. All day she had been on edge, anticipating that first encounter, but it wasn’t coming.
When the bell rang signaling the end of fourth period, she flooded out into the corridor with the rest of the class. Her locker was on the other side of the school, and the growling of her stomach helped her decide not to bother switching her books around for trig until after lunch.
On the west wing stairs, she looked out the window and saw them. All four of them were there, talking and laughing. They’d come to school after all, just hadn’t bothered to come inside. Sammi froze on the stairs, the flow of students moving around her, some of them muttering in
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