Straight Punch by Monique Polak

Don’t be a jerk.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear it,” he said, totally ignoring that I’d called him a jerk. Still, I hoped he’d gotten the message.
    There was a green space across from the metro. It was too small to be called a park, although it had a slide and a rickety set of swings. I spotted Whisky on one of them—not swinging, just kicking the dirt under it. A guy I didn’t know was with him. I was about to shout hello, but then I saw the guy hand Whisky a paper bag. When Whisky took a swig, I knew there was booze in it.
    Cyrus noticed them too. He tugged on my hand. “Let’s speed it up,” he whispered to me. “It’s a rough neighborhood.”
    I didn’t tell him one of the guys went to New Directions. Cyrus would only use it as another argument against the school.
    â€œSo where are you taking me?” I asked when we were walking through the turnstiles at the metro station.
    â€œDon’t you want it to be a surprise?”
    When we got off at Berri-UQAM and switched to the orange metro line, I guessed we were going to Chinatown. Cyrus knew I loved Chinese food.
    â€œAll right.” Cyrus threw his hands up in the air. “I give up. We are going to Chinatown. But not to eat—at least, not right away. I found this guy who manages a building there. He’s letting me have access to the roof.” From the excited way Cyrus was speaking, I knew the arrangement he’d made had something to do with photography.
    â€œIf the weather’s right on Saturday,” he went on, “I’ll get to spend the whole day shooting. I checked the forecast and there’s supposed to be a mix of sun and cloud—not too sunny though.”I knew from hanging out with Cyrus that photographers felt the same way about full sunlight as vampires did. “Wait till you see the view, Tessa. It’s gonna blow you away. These are going to my best photos ever.” I’d never noticed before how fast Cyrus talked. Maybe it was because I was comparing him with Randy.
    I didn’t say what I was thinking—that maybe he was getting a little ahead of himself here. Cyrus had arranged a photo shoot. The Magnum Photos agency hadn’t phoned to sign him up.
    â€œHow’d you talk the building manager into it?” I asked when we were sitting on one of the benches, waiting for the next metro, and Cyrus finally let me get a word in.
    â€œIt helped when I mentioned I could pay him a hundred dollars for his trouble. He introduced me to the security guard who’s going to let me go up to the roof.”
    I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I took it out to check the display. It was my mom, writing to tell me she’d defrosted spaghetti sauce for supper. I texted her back to say I was with Cyrus and that we’d be eating in Chinatown.
    Cyrus was leaning over my shoulder, trying to read what I was writing. I hit Send and put the phone away.
    â€œWho was texting you?” Cyrus’s tone bugged me. It sounded as if he thought he had a right to know.
    â€œNobody.”
    â€œYou obviously weren’t texting nobody. Who was it, Tessa? Was it Randy? Randy Randy?”
    That made me laugh.
    â€œShow me your phone, Tessa.”
    I shook my head. “Cyrus, do you have any idea how crazy you sound?”
    Cyrus looked down at his sneakers, then lifted his head and looked back at me. “Maybe I am a little jealous. It’s just…you’re hanging out with all these new kids…and then there’s Randy…”
    I knew I was Cyrus’s first serious girlfriend. I just hadn’t realized he was so insecure. Since getting angry didn’t seem to be working, I thought I’d try a different strategy. “You need to work on your jealousy issues. Besides,” I told him, “I have a thing for you. Not Randy.”
    Cyrus gave me a little smile. “You’re right. I’ll work on it.” He