have lunch today?” she asked me.
I was glad the fencing masks hid our faces because it meant Jess couldn’t see the bewildered expression on my face. “I’m not sure. I usually eat lunch with Sylvia,” I said.
“That’s why I’m asking,” Jess said, pointing her sword at the door. “Sylvia just left.”
I whipped around and stared at the place where Sylvia had been. Jess was right: she was gone. Ms. Rhone was across the gym helping one of the girls get her elbow position right on the lunge. She hadn’t even noticed.
“I’m allergic to wheat, so I have to pack my own lunch,” Jess said. “I usually eat it in the cafeteria, but if you don’t want to be seen with me, we can eat in your car.”
“What?” I asked, trying to figure out where Sylvia could have gone off to and also trying to process the fact that Jess was telling me about her allergies. Also, how did she know I ate lunch in my car when Sylvia wasn’t around?
“I’m just giving us options,” Jess said.
“Okay, okay,” I said. I looked back at the door, still dumbfounded that Sylvia had just walked out. I would get a hold of her tonight—even if it meant I had to stalk her at her house. “I’ll meet you at my car in the student parking lot.”
“Cool,” Jess said, and then raised her sword again. “In that case, en garde .”
Chapter Fifteen
THURSDAY, APRIL 16 / 12:12 P.M.
Jess met me at my car as we’d planned, a brown lunch sack in her good hand. I reached over and unlocked the passenger side door for her, and she slid in.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” I replied.
I switched on the CD player so we’d have some background noise, figuring it would come in handy if we ran out of things to talk about. “What kind of music do you like?” I asked.
Jess fished a small container filled with carrots and hummus out of her lunch bag and focused her sharp blue eyes on the dashboard. Looking at her profile this way, I realized suddenly that Jess was pretty. Or if not pretty, then at least really cute. She had a small nose with a pale dusting of freckles that went with her heart-shaped face. Her frame was petite, her blond hair trimmed and styled. If it weren’t for the fact that she had a claw for one hand, I guessed she probably would have been one of the most popular girls in school.
“Really anything,” Jess said. “My parents love the eighties, my little sister can’t get enough of that boy band Peligroso. Our housekeeper is Russian and plays Communist dirges. You throw it at me, I can probably sing it.”
The laugh that bubbled out of my throat surprised me. Jess smiled and dipped a carrot into hummus. I punched number four on the CD player. It was an all-girl indie rock band from St. Paul.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a package of storebought cupcakes. Jess eyed them. “Is that seriously what you’re having for lunch?”
“Yeah,” I said, unwrapping one. “I picked them up at the gas station this morning. That okay with you?”
“Sure,” Jess said, lifting her small shoulders in a shrug. “They’re just pretty much the worst things for you ever.”
“Yeah, well, Sylvia likes them,” I muttered. I hadn’t meant to bring up her name, but there it was. Lots of days we shared a package of cupcakes and a bag of chips for lunch. If we weren’t going off to McDonald’s, that is. My mom said I should get used to the idea of eating healthier since my metabolism would one day slow down and I wouldn’t be able to eat any of the stuff I loved without gaining fifty pounds. Sylvia would say that the only time to worry about something was when it was staring you in the face. And then she’d reach for another cupcake.
“That’s pretty cool about Sylvia and the prom court,” Jess said. “I just hope she doesn’t screw it up.”
I swallowed a thick chunk of frosting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jess unsealed a bag of what looked like banana chips. She popped one into her mouth. “I’m
I was glad the fencing masks hid our faces because it meant Jess couldn’t see the bewildered expression on my face. “I’m not sure. I usually eat lunch with Sylvia,” I said.
“That’s why I’m asking,” Jess said, pointing her sword at the door. “Sylvia just left.”
I whipped around and stared at the place where Sylvia had been. Jess was right: she was gone. Ms. Rhone was across the gym helping one of the girls get her elbow position right on the lunge. She hadn’t even noticed.
“I’m allergic to wheat, so I have to pack my own lunch,” Jess said. “I usually eat it in the cafeteria, but if you don’t want to be seen with me, we can eat in your car.”
“What?” I asked, trying to figure out where Sylvia could have gone off to and also trying to process the fact that Jess was telling me about her allergies. Also, how did she know I ate lunch in my car when Sylvia wasn’t around?
“I’m just giving us options,” Jess said.
“Okay, okay,” I said. I looked back at the door, still dumbfounded that Sylvia had just walked out. I would get a hold of her tonight—even if it meant I had to stalk her at her house. “I’ll meet you at my car in the student parking lot.”
“Cool,” Jess said, and then raised her sword again. “In that case, en garde .”
Chapter Fifteen
THURSDAY, APRIL 16 / 12:12 P.M.
Jess met me at my car as we’d planned, a brown lunch sack in her good hand. I reached over and unlocked the passenger side door for her, and she slid in.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” I replied.
I switched on the CD player so we’d have some background noise, figuring it would come in handy if we ran out of things to talk about. “What kind of music do you like?” I asked.
Jess fished a small container filled with carrots and hummus out of her lunch bag and focused her sharp blue eyes on the dashboard. Looking at her profile this way, I realized suddenly that Jess was pretty. Or if not pretty, then at least really cute. She had a small nose with a pale dusting of freckles that went with her heart-shaped face. Her frame was petite, her blond hair trimmed and styled. If it weren’t for the fact that she had a claw for one hand, I guessed she probably would have been one of the most popular girls in school.
“Really anything,” Jess said. “My parents love the eighties, my little sister can’t get enough of that boy band Peligroso. Our housekeeper is Russian and plays Communist dirges. You throw it at me, I can probably sing it.”
The laugh that bubbled out of my throat surprised me. Jess smiled and dipped a carrot into hummus. I punched number four on the CD player. It was an all-girl indie rock band from St. Paul.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a package of storebought cupcakes. Jess eyed them. “Is that seriously what you’re having for lunch?”
“Yeah,” I said, unwrapping one. “I picked them up at the gas station this morning. That okay with you?”
“Sure,” Jess said, lifting her small shoulders in a shrug. “They’re just pretty much the worst things for you ever.”
“Yeah, well, Sylvia likes them,” I muttered. I hadn’t meant to bring up her name, but there it was. Lots of days we shared a package of cupcakes and a bag of chips for lunch. If we weren’t going off to McDonald’s, that is. My mom said I should get used to the idea of eating healthier since my metabolism would one day slow down and I wouldn’t be able to eat any of the stuff I loved without gaining fifty pounds. Sylvia would say that the only time to worry about something was when it was staring you in the face. And then she’d reach for another cupcake.
“That’s pretty cool about Sylvia and the prom court,” Jess said. “I just hope she doesn’t screw it up.”
I swallowed a thick chunk of frosting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jess unsealed a bag of what looked like banana chips. She popped one into her mouth. “I’m
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