Read Extra Life for Free Online

him—this chance run-in with The One That Got Away, just as he was dying from the plague.
    “Horace, really,” Mom scolded me. With both hands, she hoisted Yesterly up by the elbow, even though he outweighed her by a hundred pounds, easy. She had no idea who he was.
    “Madeline…” Yesterly said.
    Mom cocked her head, took a step back from the frumpy dude she just rescued. Then it registered for her. “George?” she said. She almost put her hand over her mouth.
    Yesterly leaned against the wall to stop himself from falling again. When Dad and VP Skaggs arrived on the scene, Skaggs squeezed in to assess damages. “Are you all right, Mr. Yesterly? Any injuries?” he asked, apparently eager for something else to pin on me—assaulting a faculty member.
    Yesterly shook his head. “No—no—that was completely my fault. I’m, uh, I’ve go this blood sugar issue. Damn thing has gotten the best of me today. I’ll be fine if I just get something, something sweet…”
    “Oh, dear. Let’s get you some Pepsi and send you home,” Skaggs said, leading Yesterly away. As they departed, Skaggs said to my parents, “We’ll be in touch very soon, get this whole business worked out.”
    Mom gave a tight little noncommittal nod. For the first time in forever she seemed at a loss for actual words. Then I realized why. Misty watercolor memories of George Yesterly, the creepy kid who used to follow her home from school.
    A sudden plan blurted from my mouth. “Mr. Yes—what about the Young Auteurs project? The deadline?”
    Yesterly looked back at me, haggard. Then he looked at my mother and there was the passing glimmer, the sad smile.
    “I was going to bring you my finished entry by four-thirty,” I explained. “Still got some last minute edits. But if you’re going home early…”
    “M-monday morning,” Yesterly said. “First thing.”
    Score. Use whatever advantages you’ve got .

B ACK IN the game, my victory was laid out before me. Except I was already ten minutes late and counting. Story of my life.
    “In the best of all possible worlds…” Dad was saying, just as he slowed his car for a yellow light that he totally could’ve made. “You’d be lauded for sticking to your principles.”
    “ Green , Dad,” I said from the passenger side the instant the signal turned. With Dr. Kasper Vale, you gotta cut him off before he really gets going or next thing you know he’ll find a parking spot and start in on a two-hour theoretical physics lecture. He could turn anything into numbers. If you didn’t shut him down fast enough, he’d analyze all your lofty metaphysical notions about love and ambition into the analogous functioning of human neurological and artificial information systems. It’s a wonder I even exist if this was his mating call with Mom.
    When we finally reached Conrad’s house, I hit the sidewalk before Dad even full-stopped on the street outside. I promised to be home before dark, then bounded up the porch steps, leaving Dad to wax philosophic by himself.
    I failed to spot Paige until she said, “Y’all’re lucky I can predict your every move.”
    She was propping up a porch banister, half-hidden by overgrown shrubbery. Her Canon HD digital camera was in its carrying case, strapped across her chest.
    “You’re here!” I shouted. “Thank you, thank you, thank you !” Without her, I might’ve rushed down to the diner minus a camera, or a person to run it. Some brilliant short film that would’ve made.
    “I decided to take pity on you,” she said.
    “Good, because I’m this close to getting expelled because of you.”
    “Because of me?” she said, curling her lip. “I didn’t punch you.”
    “Might’ve been nice if you stuck around to explain what happened.”
    “Maybe,” she said, and shrugged it off. “Looks like you tried on every shade of eyeliner at once. And don’t you dare blame me for the black eye.”
    “That guy was a dick. Don’t let people talk to you like