Read All of It for Free Online Page A

with her elbow.
    “Maybe … sort of … I don’t know.” I shake my head and try to shrug it off as no big deal, but the heat in my cheeks contradicts and betrays me. I suddenly don’t want to talk about it anymore.
    “Who is he?” She’s put down the dishcloth she was wiping the counter with and stares at me.
    “He’s a new kid,” I offer as if under interrogation.
    She’s still staring, “And?” And prying.
    “His family just moved here from Texas. I was assigned as his guide the past two days since he’s new. He seems pretty cool.” I’m trying to keep this low-key, but she’s getting herself all worked up.
    “What’s his name?” She looks like she is going to burst.
    “Dimitri Glenn.”
    She squeaks with excitement and says something under her breath that I don’t understand. She has to see that her display is clearly embarrassing me and should, more importantly, be embarrassing her. I
do not
squeal and giggle about boys. With anyone.
Ever
. She takes a deep breath and struggles with composure. “Dimitri, that’s a very unusual name. Texas, huh?” There’s a huge smile on her face.
    “Yep, that’s what he said. You’d better get going, Mom, you’re going to be late for work.”
    She gasps as she looks at the clock. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.” She throws the dishcloth in the sink and grabs her purse from the top of the refrigerator. She kisses me as she scoots by. “Don’t forget to put your dishes in the dishwasher.”
    “Aye-aye, Captain.”
    “Have a great day at school, Ronnie. I love you.”
    “Love you too, Mom.”
    She pushes the button on the garage door opener and steps out the back door.
    I sit down to my cereal and look at my calculus homework. I was having trouble with one of the problems last night and chose to skip it and take a look at it with a fresh pair of eyes this morning. After putting pencil to paper it works its way out in a matter of minutes. What I stared at last night completely stumped makes perfect sense this morning. Satisfied, I put my book in my bag and my spoon and bowl in the dishwasher. The dishwasher is empty of course—my mom emptied it this morning. Just like every morning.
    I grab a bottle of water, an apple, a jar of peanut butter, and some crackers and throw them in my bag too.
    It’s only 7:15 and I usually don’t leave for school until 7:30, but I am too anxious to sit in this house another minute. My “obligation” ended yesterday. Dimitri is officially on his own today. That fact makes me both sad and nervous. Though Monday morning was a complete disaster, Monday afternoon and Tuesday were awesome. We’ve been unbelievably at ease with each other and conversation’s come easily. It’s as if we’ve known each other for years, not days.
    Thoughts of Dimitri force me back downstairs to brush my teeth. Again. After all, his locker is only down three from mine. I’m bound to see him at some point this morning and I don’t need Cheerios breath.
    I take the stairs two at a time, grab my bag off the dining room table and run out the door. I only live a few blocks from the school but I drive every day anyway. Not very environmentally-friendly, I know, I know.
    My dad’s religion—cars—warranted a shrine of sorts. He built a four-stall garage in our backyard when I was very young, which, for a neighborhood like ours, is unheard of. The garage is literally bigger than our house. It dwarfs it. The garage is generally full of cars and tools and boyish gadgets. Mom and Dad’s cars are gone at the moment, so all that remains are my car and my dad’s pride and joy.
    My car is bright red. Her name is Jezebel. My friend Teagan named her, because he says it’s kind of “sexy,” which made me laugh, so the name stuck. Jezebel is several years old but in very good shape for her age (maybe she is sexy after all) and in my opinion is way too nice for a seventeen year old like me, but my dad picked it out.
    Jezebel is parked next