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feel, but maybe it’s good to have it down on paper anyway.
    Monica called. We’re going to grab some food and see a movie tonight. She wanted me to call Jon and see if he wanted to call Amy and invite her, too, and then we could double date. What is it with girls and double dates? I told her I wanted it to be just us tonight. She seemed really pleased to hear that, but I don’t think it was because of the same reasons I meant it. There’s just something about Jon that makes me feel . . . weird. I get distracted and confused—like I’m not sure what’s going on. It’s not bad. I had fun last night, but I just . . . I don’t know what it is. I guess I feel worried, somehow.
    What am I worried about? About being friends with the new kid?
    Erin just texted me. Tyler is home from the hospital. I feel like I should call him, but what do I say? That situation makes me feel weird in a whole different way. On top of it all, my stomach still feels queasy from the Maker’s last night. I need a couple of cheeseburgers, like, yesterday.
    Gonna jump in the shower and go pick up Monica. Have to eat if I’m gonna make it through this movie alive.

Sunday, September 2
    Just got home from church. Mom has only two rules about church:
    1. I have to go.
    2. I have to leave my phone in the truck.
    I can drive myself. I can sit wherever I want during the service. I can go out for lunch after with Monica and my friends. Whatever. I just have to go, and I can’t surf the Web on my phone. It’s boring as hell, but I deal.
    Anyway, after the service today, Monica walked me out to my truck, and I turned on my phone while we were hanging out, talking.
    There was a text message from a 773 area code that I didn’t recognize:
    Hey man. Jon here. Thanks for hanging last night. Call me today? Need quote from you about the game for my blog post.
    I smiled when I saw it, and Monica asked me who it was from. I told her it was Jon and wondered how he’d gotten my number. She said he’d asked her for it after the game on Friday.
    â€œHe’s such a great guy,” she said. “I’m glad you two hit it off.”
    She leaned over the console and wrapped a hand around my neck. I felt her dark red nails graze my ear as she pulled me over and kissed me on the lips. She tried to slide her tongue into my mouth, and I pulled back.
    â€œAre you nuts?” I asked.
    â€œWhat?” she said, all wide-eyed and innocent.
    â€œWe’re in the church parking lot at high noon.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Oh, puh-lease. Nobody is looking at us.” She turned around and glanced at the front door of the church. Her grandma was walking out with her grandfather. Monica sighed. “Off to Hometown Corral. Home of America’s cheapest salad bar.” She pecked me on the cheek and jumped out of the truck.
    I texted Jon back that I’d call him after lunch.
    We just finished eating, and I came up to my room to call him, but I thought I’d write all this down first.
    I feel nervous about calling him, but I’m not sure why. Like, I wouldn’t feel this way about calling Tyler. Why should I feel this way about calling Jon?

Later . . .
    I don’t know why I was nervous about calling Jon. That kid had me laughing the second he got me on the phone. He told methat his headline for the blog was going to be “Second-String QB Leaps Tall Buildings in Single Bound,” and we ended up talking for, like, forty-five minutes.
    He made me promise to send him a country playlist online. Said he needed redneck tunes to inspire his writing about football. I just finished sending him a list on Spotify, mainly classics like George Strait and Garth Brooks—the old stuff.
    Jon is hilarious.
    Now I’ve gotta call the Oklahoma scout. Here goes nothing. . . .
    Voice mail. She’s out of the office until Friday. I left my info.

Monday,