Pop by Gordon Korman Page B

handful of rocks was perfectly familiar. Alyssa.
    He opened the window and called down, “We have a doorbell.”
    She smiled up at him. “Sorry.”
    She wasn’t sorry. She didn’t have to be. Her get-out-of-jail-free card had no limitations and no blackout dates. Must be nice , thought Marcus. He went downstairs and let her in.
    â€œI thought your mom might be home or something,” she explained. “I’m not sure how much she knows about me.”
    â€œShe’s out in the Gunks, shooting.” He added, “Pictures, not deer.”
    Alyssa beamed. “Works for me either way.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
    He didn’t push her away, but he didn’t kiss her back, either.
    She retreated a step. “You’re mad.”
    â€œI’m not,” he replied honestly. “That’s the problem. I should be chewing rusty nails after last night. What would have happened if I couldn’t throw a good block? Would you still visit me in intensive care?”
    She was unrepentant. “Don’t I get points for being right? I told you they’d come around.”
    â€œIt damn near didn’t go that way. What if Ron hadn’t been there? Or if Gary hadn’t let go? Or if Luke didn’t mind bloodstains on his laundry-room floor? What if Chelsea hadn’t stormed the basement in time to distract the psycho-in-chief?”
    â€œWe didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted. “You had every right to be there—as a Raider and as my date.”
    â€œBeing right doesn’t unfracture your skull,” Marcus reminded her. “At a certain point you have to forget about what’s right and do what makes sense. Face it—you and me makes no sense.”
    â€œIt made sense last night,” she protested, “until we got ambushed.”
    â€œI’m not going to pretend I’m not into you,” Marcus said. “But what does that mean? How many guys aren’t?”
    â€œI don’t want those guys; I want you.”
    â€œThis whole town sees you as Troy’s,” Marcus told her. “And there’s a part of you that still sees yourself the same way.”
    â€œThat’s great news for me. You can find another girlfriend, but I belong to Troy till the end of time. Maybe we should try fixing him up. Would I be off the hook then?”
    He grinned appreciatively. “I only know one other girl in town, and she’s his sister.”
    â€œThis sucks,” she pronounced dejectedly. “Couldn’t we just—I don’t know—hate each other and still fool around?”
    â€œWe don’t hate each other. We’re friends.”
    â€œWith benefits?” she probed.
    The staccato blurp of a police siren drew their attention outside. The cruiser pulled up to the curb, flashers on intermittent.
    Alyssa pointed. “Isn’t that the cop who busted you last time?”
    Marcus had a vision of cascades of toilet paper draped over the metal cockroach, filling the doorway of K.O. Pest Control. He knew then that a lousy weekend was about to get worse.
    Officer Deluca peered over his desk. “You know, Marcus, we could take a drive over to the county lockup and see about six hundred innocent men just like you.”
    â€œI am innocent,” Marcus said stubbornly.
    â€œNever said you weren’t,” the policeman agreed. “But if you don’t give me the name of the person who’s guilty, this time you’re going to get due process, just like I warned you.”
    â€œThat’s not fair!” Marcus exclaimed hotly. “I don’t know who did it, so that means it must have been me?”
    â€œYou do know who did it. Why would you cover for somebody who lets you take the rap?”
    â€œWhy would you call out the SWAT team over toilet paper?” Marcus countered.
    â€œIt isn’t the toilet paper,” the