Page 104 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

the teacher’s words, hearing them but not comprehending.
When it was time to work independently, Angus twisted
in his desk, craning to see around the people between him
and Greta.
“Greta,” he shout-whispered. She looked down at her
binder, pretending not to hear. Everyone around them turned
to stare. “Greta, Arjun here’s a basketball player.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Angus pointing to

a tall, acne-pocked guy sitting beside him. She recognized
him from Dylan’s games. Arjun turned and checked her out.
Greta’s face burned.
“There’s a closet back there.” Angus motioned with his
chin. Greta didn’t turn to look. “You could…you know.” In
the aisle between him and Arjun, he made a jerk-off gesture
with his hand. A few sniggers broke out around them. Greta ADVANCE READING COPY

couldn’t speak or move, every vein in her body hardening.
“Shut up, Angus,” Arjun said, turning back to the book on
his desk. Everyone else shifted away too.
Greta knew she should feel better, the spotlight on her
switched off. But it had felt, when Angus spoke, as if her
clothes had been torn away in front of thirty sets of eyes. As
though she really had followed Arjun to the closet, let him
do whatever, with everyone laughing at her outside the door.
Nasty girl. Easy. She dug her nails into her palms, not wanting

Angus to see he’d gotten to her, choking, drowning in the
purple-punch feeling.
In French class, she sat in absolute silence for most
of the class, until a girl next to her asked to partner up to

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