gushed. "The whole team heads over to Friendly's."
"We take up, like, half the tables," Adrienne added proudly, like booth hogging was an art.
"I'll think about it," I promised as the players trotted onto the field. I saw Tanner gaze up and into the crowd, his eyes moving down the bleachers in a businesslike manner. When he saw me, he smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
My mouth went dry.
That's terrible, I told myself. You stole the Skin from Kylie and now you're ready to steal her boyfriend, too? You should feel really bad for even thinking about this stuff.
A whistle blared, signaling the start of the game. Whenever Tanner stole the ball I clapped. When he scored, I stomped my feet and screamed his name. And even though I had absolutely no idea what was happening on the field about ninety percent of the time, I figured I covered all the really important stuff.
When the game was over (I was pretty sure that, again, Woodlawn had won, but made a mental note to do a little online lacrosse research when I got home), I really wanted to hang back and talk to Tanner-or even head over to Friendly's and wait for him-but decided against it. Kylie Frank had arrived midgame and was sitting
135
about ten seats away from me. She definitely had dibs.
"Listen, thanks for the invite," I told Heidi and Adrienne as we edged our way toward the aisle. "But I can't go. Maybe another time, okay?"
"You're not coming?" Heidi asked. She looked crushed. "Really?"
"We're usually there for a couple of hours," Adrienne assured me. "In case you change your mind."
"Hey, Sam! Sam Klein!"
I turned. Tanner was standing at the edge of the field, smiling. At me.
That was all it took. The dizzy feeling was back.
"Hey," I said softly, not trusting my voice. "I heard you cheering," he said. "You're our number-one fan."
"Uh, sure am," I said.
"Listen, we have another game on Tuesday," he said, flashing me a Colgate-bright smile. "See you there?"
"Definitely."
I climbed down from the bleachers and walked into the hall, toward my locker. My Tanner high was so intense that I barely even gasped when I looked down and noticed the locker door hanging wide open.
I checked the contents, confirming that yes,
136
someone had broken in, but no, nothing was missing. Laptop. Notebooks. Backpack. They were all there.
I should have felt panicked. Or furious. And I definitely should have reported the incident to the principal's office. But since I was wearing the only possession I really, truly cared about, the fuss hardly seemed worth it.
The rewrite of my life was in progress-and so far it was way more exciting than any romance novel.
137
EIGHTEEN
" I should have her up and running in about three weeks," Alex told Gwen and me. We were in his garage, staring down at a sheet of fiberglass that was, according to his blueprints, destined to become his latest soapbox car.
I glanced around the room, at the dismantled baby carriage and cans of paint, the woodworking bench covered with tools whose names and functions I wasn't even remotely curious about, and smiled. "Not possible," I said. "I know you're good but you're not that good."
"Oh, Sam," Alex said, shaking his head. "You have so much to learn."
138
Gwen lifted her head out of Gourmet. "I think you can do it." She shot me a look. "Stranger things have been known to happen."
A tiny shiver ran down my spine. Bit by bit, the halls of Woodlawn were warming to me. I was definitely on the rise. But each inch I climbed seemed to add to the tension that had cropped up between Gwen and me. It had started that first afternoon in the hallway and, as far as I could tell, didn't plan on moving anytime soon.
Before I could answer her, my cell rang. Or rather, it started to sing. I reached into my bag and grabbed it.
Gwen groaned. "Will you please turn that thing off?" she said, plucking a screwdriver from the workbench. "Or at least switch it to vibrate?"
"Sorry," I muttered. "I'm not really sure how."
This
"We take up, like, half the tables," Adrienne added proudly, like booth hogging was an art.
"I'll think about it," I promised as the players trotted onto the field. I saw Tanner gaze up and into the crowd, his eyes moving down the bleachers in a businesslike manner. When he saw me, he smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
My mouth went dry.
That's terrible, I told myself. You stole the Skin from Kylie and now you're ready to steal her boyfriend, too? You should feel really bad for even thinking about this stuff.
A whistle blared, signaling the start of the game. Whenever Tanner stole the ball I clapped. When he scored, I stomped my feet and screamed his name. And even though I had absolutely no idea what was happening on the field about ninety percent of the time, I figured I covered all the really important stuff.
When the game was over (I was pretty sure that, again, Woodlawn had won, but made a mental note to do a little online lacrosse research when I got home), I really wanted to hang back and talk to Tanner-or even head over to Friendly's and wait for him-but decided against it. Kylie Frank had arrived midgame and was sitting
135
about ten seats away from me. She definitely had dibs.
"Listen, thanks for the invite," I told Heidi and Adrienne as we edged our way toward the aisle. "But I can't go. Maybe another time, okay?"
"You're not coming?" Heidi asked. She looked crushed. "Really?"
"We're usually there for a couple of hours," Adrienne assured me. "In case you change your mind."
"Hey, Sam! Sam Klein!"
I turned. Tanner was standing at the edge of the field, smiling. At me.
That was all it took. The dizzy feeling was back.
"Hey," I said softly, not trusting my voice. "I heard you cheering," he said. "You're our number-one fan."
"Uh, sure am," I said.
"Listen, we have another game on Tuesday," he said, flashing me a Colgate-bright smile. "See you there?"
"Definitely."
I climbed down from the bleachers and walked into the hall, toward my locker. My Tanner high was so intense that I barely even gasped when I looked down and noticed the locker door hanging wide open.
I checked the contents, confirming that yes,
136
someone had broken in, but no, nothing was missing. Laptop. Notebooks. Backpack. They were all there.
I should have felt panicked. Or furious. And I definitely should have reported the incident to the principal's office. But since I was wearing the only possession I really, truly cared about, the fuss hardly seemed worth it.
The rewrite of my life was in progress-and so far it was way more exciting than any romance novel.
137
EIGHTEEN
" I should have her up and running in about three weeks," Alex told Gwen and me. We were in his garage, staring down at a sheet of fiberglass that was, according to his blueprints, destined to become his latest soapbox car.
I glanced around the room, at the dismantled baby carriage and cans of paint, the woodworking bench covered with tools whose names and functions I wasn't even remotely curious about, and smiled. "Not possible," I said. "I know you're good but you're not that good."
"Oh, Sam," Alex said, shaking his head. "You have so much to learn."
138
Gwen lifted her head out of Gourmet. "I think you can do it." She shot me a look. "Stranger things have been known to happen."
A tiny shiver ran down my spine. Bit by bit, the halls of Woodlawn were warming to me. I was definitely on the rise. But each inch I climbed seemed to add to the tension that had cropped up between Gwen and me. It had started that first afternoon in the hallway and, as far as I could tell, didn't plan on moving anytime soon.
Before I could answer her, my cell rang. Or rather, it started to sing. I reached into my bag and grabbed it.
Gwen groaned. "Will you please turn that thing off?" she said, plucking a screwdriver from the workbench. "Or at least switch it to vibrate?"
"Sorry," I muttered. "I'm not really sure how."
This
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