and wiggles his eyebrows at me. I give him a little wave.
Ms. Vastag watches him pull out a chair at a nearby table before slouching against the cubicle and looking back down at me. “I heard about the competition.” She looks especially colorful today with her rainbow-striped socks and purple Birkenstocks. “I’m sorry you lost. Word is you killed it onstage though.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t kill it enough to win.” I still feel rotten about letting people down. Mr. Roskinski’s been great about it, and so have my friends, but that doesn’t take away my disappointment.
“Like I said last week, life’s a poker hand. There’s always another game coming. As long as you pick up the cards and deal yourself in.”
“I guess.” Maybe I’ll get shortlisted for the ITCF next year. If I don’t let fear or doubt or Brooke’s mean comments get to me. I still hope one day we’ll be close again. That she’ll stop resenting me and grow up. But it may not happen for a long time, if ever. Life doesn’t come with a guarantee.
Ms. Vastag bends down. She’s so close I can see the coffee stains on her front teeth. “I see Brooke’s trying to move in on your territory.”
I look at Brooke. She’s practically jumping out of her chair trying to get Hunter’s attention. I look back at Ms. Vastag . Territory ? Did I hear her right? Has the cold plugged my ears?
“Hunter MacRae,” she whispers.
I’m stunned. Ms. Vastag isn’t like any other teacher in the school, but this is getting personal, even for her. “He’s not my territory. He doesn’t belong to me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe not, but the guy’s been following you around like a homeless puppy for the last six months. You need to put him out of his misery and tell him how you feel.”
Oh jeez. Is it that obvious? Does everybody know? I look at Brooke again. Does she? Is that why she’s been throwing herself at Hunter lately?
Ms. Vastag follows my gaze. “Brooke wants what you have,” she says. “She’s threatened because you’re funny and she’s not.”
Brooke’s just jealous . I flash on Hunter’s words. Maybe he’s right about that too.
“Forget your sister.” She inclines her head ever so slightly toward Hunter. “Well? Are you going to just sit there?”
What? Ms. Vastag is telling me to go talk to Hunter? No way. The cold is messing with my head.
She gives me a pointed look. “Don’t be a wuss, Larsson. Remember that other thing I told you? We’ve all got something.” She stops, presumably waiting for me to answer. When I don’t, she smiles and says, “Just don’t let your something get in the way of having a life.”
It’s the smile that gets me. That’s only the second time Ms. Vastag has smiled since grade eight. It has to be a sign. I look at Brooke. I look at Hunter. Then I push my chair back and stand.
It’s time to get in the game.
Ms. Vastag watches him pull out a chair at a nearby table before slouching against the cubicle and looking back down at me. “I heard about the competition.” She looks especially colorful today with her rainbow-striped socks and purple Birkenstocks. “I’m sorry you lost. Word is you killed it onstage though.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t kill it enough to win.” I still feel rotten about letting people down. Mr. Roskinski’s been great about it, and so have my friends, but that doesn’t take away my disappointment.
“Like I said last week, life’s a poker hand. There’s always another game coming. As long as you pick up the cards and deal yourself in.”
“I guess.” Maybe I’ll get shortlisted for the ITCF next year. If I don’t let fear or doubt or Brooke’s mean comments get to me. I still hope one day we’ll be close again. That she’ll stop resenting me and grow up. But it may not happen for a long time, if ever. Life doesn’t come with a guarantee.
Ms. Vastag bends down. She’s so close I can see the coffee stains on her front teeth. “I see Brooke’s trying to move in on your territory.”
I look at Brooke. She’s practically jumping out of her chair trying to get Hunter’s attention. I look back at Ms. Vastag . Territory ? Did I hear her right? Has the cold plugged my ears?
“Hunter MacRae,” she whispers.
I’m stunned. Ms. Vastag isn’t like any other teacher in the school, but this is getting personal, even for her. “He’s not my territory. He doesn’t belong to me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe not, but the guy’s been following you around like a homeless puppy for the last six months. You need to put him out of his misery and tell him how you feel.”
Oh jeez. Is it that obvious? Does everybody know? I look at Brooke again. Does she? Is that why she’s been throwing herself at Hunter lately?
Ms. Vastag follows my gaze. “Brooke wants what you have,” she says. “She’s threatened because you’re funny and she’s not.”
Brooke’s just jealous . I flash on Hunter’s words. Maybe he’s right about that too.
“Forget your sister.” She inclines her head ever so slightly toward Hunter. “Well? Are you going to just sit there?”
What? Ms. Vastag is telling me to go talk to Hunter? No way. The cold is messing with my head.
She gives me a pointed look. “Don’t be a wuss, Larsson. Remember that other thing I told you? We’ve all got something.” She stops, presumably waiting for me to answer. When I don’t, she smiles and says, “Just don’t let your something get in the way of having a life.”
It’s the smile that gets me. That’s only the second time Ms. Vastag has smiled since grade eight. It has to be a sign. I look at Brooke. I look at Hunter. Then I push my chair back and stand.
It’s time to get in the game.
Similar Books
