Jingle Boy Read Online Free PDF Page B

than she is. She has never—not once—mentioned an even remote interest in any of the guys at school.
    “No. I guess I wouldn’t,” Holly replied. She popped the fry into her mouth.
    “Besides, what the heck would she be using me for?” I asked, poking around for some kind of weakness in her argument. One speck of hope that maybe this whole Scooby thing was just a momentary lapse of sanity. I had to keep believing.
    Holly took a long, deep breath and shot me a look. An I-know-something-you-don’t-know-and-I-don’t-want-to-tell-you-what-it-is look. My heart took a nosedive.
    “What?” I asked, my voice full of dread.
    “Nothing. Forget it,” Holly said, yanking a napkin out of the dispenser at the end of the table. She made a big show of wiping off her fingers, going at each one as if she were about to perform heart surgery. Maybe she was. I mean, from her tone it seemed like she might be about to tear my still-beating heart right out of my chest.
    “Oh no,” I said. I pushed my hands into the seat at my sides and sat up straight, causing a cacophony of creaks, squeaks, and vinyl farts. My morbid curiosity was definitely getting the better of me. What did she
know
? “You have to tell me. You can’t violate the Pact.”
    “The Pact states that you cannot begin a sentence and then refuse to end it,” Holly pointed out, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. “I did not start any sentence. I merely gave you a look.”
    “Yeah, a loaded look,” I said. I was starting to sweat. “Spill, Holly. Come on.”
    “All right, all right.” She pushed her plate aside and leaned her forearms on the table, bringing her face close to mine. Her expression was placating, sorrowful, almost pitying. The kind of look you give a kid when you’re about to tell him that his dog was hit by a bus. “In the locker room before gym the other day, Lainie Lefkowitz asked Sarah how things were going with you.” Holly fixed her green eyes on my face, trying to discern whether or not it was safe to continue.
    I tried to keep my face as expressionless as possible. “Uh-huh.”
    Holly took another deep breath. I stared at the smiley face pattern of the freckles just above her nose.
    “She said, ‘Well, at least he’s getting a cool car,’” Holly said, pitching her voice a few octaves higher to imitate Sarah’s. Then she let out this loud, affected giggle that sounded nothing at all like my girlfriend. Sorry. Ex-girlfriend.
    I blinked. “What’s so bad about that?” I asked. “I
am
getting a cool car! And Sarah was the only one who would even listen to me talk about it anymore!”
    “That just proves my point! The car was
all
she cared about!” Holly exclaimed, flopping back in her seat. “She’s totally materialistic!”
    “Well . . . so am I,” I protested feebly. “At least when it comes to my Jeep, I am.” Chalk it up to one of the most pointless arguments ever devised by man or teenager.
    “Whatever. All I know is, she’s not good enough for you,” Holly replied, shaking her head and picking up another fry. “You can do
so
much better.”
    “Better than Sarah?” I said. “What are you on? She’s ten times too good for me. I mean, have you not
seen
her?”
    Holly blew out an exasperated breath and grabbed the ketchup bottle. “She’s not
that
pretty.”
    I wasn’t even going to dignify that with a response. Maybe Holly couldn’t see how perfect Sarah was because she’s a girl, too. I mean, it’s not like I ever grasped the Seth Green attraction. But trust me, Sarah was the most beautiful girl in my class. The day she walked through the doors at Paramus Park High, she blew away any hopes Danielle Booth had of winning “Best Looking” in the yearbook poll. And Danielle had a lock on it since the fourth grade when she was the first girl to . . .
mature,
if ya know what I mean.
    Yep. Sarah was perfect. And I was supposed to be taking her to the Holiday Ball. I felt sick every time I thought about