Read Number 8 for Free Online Page B

in the cupboard above the sink. Jackson Ford. Jackson Browne. I like the music in his name. I like, too, the way he wears his hair a little longer than the other boys, the way it curls like a fallen question mark over his collar. I could make a list of all the things I like about Jackson Ford. He made me feel special this afternoon. With his musical living room, his streetwise life, his amazing story. When I think he was telling it all, just for me, I get a shiver inside. It’s the same sort of feeling I have when I sing. But the shiver’s never happened before without the music.
    I remember when we were sitting on the steps, he pushed up his sleeves as if he was about to fight that security guy, Rocky. I noticed then the muscles in his arms. He’s lean, but his arms are strong and hard. I wanted to accidentally-on-purpose brush my fingers against the skin, just to see what he felt like. But I took the last cake, instead.
    Later, when I get into bed, I start at the beginning and go over everything that happened in the afternoon. I have this hazy, warm sort of feeling in my chest. It’s like falling asleep in the sun, in the backyard.
    Jackson is really brave. When I asked him more stuff about that casino boss, Tony, he just smiled at me.
Smiled
. I told him I’d be terrified if a guy like that was after me, it would obsess me completely.
    â€œI just try not to think about it,” he shrugged. “It’s not so hard.”
    Jackson tries to handle things all by himself, I think. He’s very mature. Mature
and
good-looking.
    Oh, no, how can I have said that?
    I sit bolt upright and throw the sheets off my legs. You should never say such things, even if you think them. You should never let a boy know you like him, right at the start.Should you? It’s like, well, jumping off a tall building and hoping this stranger’ll catch you before you hit the ground. How can you know he will? It’s just stupid.
He
thought I was stupid. He didn’t even bother to reply. Just stared at me as if I was a complete fool.
    â€œBrainy
and
good-looking.”
Ugh!
I remember the words just coming out of my mouth, like a burp or a dream. My cheeks flame at the thought of it, as if I’ve stepped into a boiling bath.
    I lie down again and try to close my eyes. But it doesn’t work. What if he tells the other boys? How do I know he won’t? What would Badman do with that? My life won’t be worth living. Now I’ll never get to sleep. And I’ll be too tired to sing well at the concert tryouts. Oh, me and my
mouth
!
    I’ve barely opened my eyes when Mom comes into my room. She sweeps back the curtains and the sun blares in like a trumpet.
    â€œEz, remember I’ve got an appointment with your Mr. Norton this afternoon.”
    â€œHe’s not
my
Mr. Norton.” I watch her marching around the room like a Russian soldier, doing five things at once, as usual. She picks up my school shirt and dirty socks and yesterday’s undies. Oh, why is she so …
her
.
    â€œWhy aren’t these in the dirty clothes basket? You know I wash on Wednesdays. Really, you’re so disorganized, that’s your problem all over. So, as I was saying, I’m going to ask Mr. Norton about strategies your father and I can put in place to help you with your math. You know, Ez, I look at it like this: at the end of the day, it’s your father’s and my job to help you secure your future. That is the bottom line. We willassist you in the process of setting your goals and draw up a plan for working toward them.”
    â€œWill there be any interest involved? And if so, what percentage do you think?”
    â€œI beg your pardon? I’m sure you’ll find it all very interesting, if that’s what you mean. Now, time to go and take your shower. It’s nine minutes past seven.”
    Oh, why was I born?
    Lilly is sitting with Mitch on the bench under the paperbark tree when