Just Like the Movies Read Online Free PDF Page B

response to a question Tommy must have asked her and his reaction.
    Laura Browning: Sure. Anything 4 u, sexy.
    Tommy Lawson: ;)
    Narrowing my eyes, I press on her status and now I can see the entire conversation.
    Tommy Lawson: Hey Laura, could u do me a favor?
    Laura Browning: Sure. Whattup?
    Tommy Lawson: Could u possibly bring me the calc HW today @ lunch? I’ll be forever in ur debt.
    Laura Browning: Sure. Anything 4 u, sexy.
    Tommy Lawson: ;)
    I can feel the bile rising in my throat. There’s a voice in the back of my head that says,
He sent her a wink—not a smile. A
wink
. What’s up with that?
    He’s just showing his appreciation
, I think.
    But my inner voice sneers in disbelief. Appreciation is saying “thank you.” A wink is full-blown flirting.
    Of course, Tommy chooses this moment to peel onto my street and speed up to my driveway. I just stand there, staring at him, as he pulls in behind my dad’s Subaru and hangs his head out of the window.
    â€œHey champ! C’mon, we’re gonna miss your big entrance!”
    Champ
. Like what you’d call a little brother or something.
    I think “champ” is the exact opposite of a wink.
    Numbly, I start walking toward the passenger side of the car. Tommy reaches over and pops the door open. I pullmy backpack off my shoulder and grab for the door handle, trying to figure out what I’m going to say to him.
    Then I see the dozen long-stemmed red roses in the passenger seat.
    â€œA dozen roses for my track star,” Tommy says softly. He has an earnest smile on his face. I blink several times, looking back and forth between him and the flowers.
    â€œWhen you walk into school, it’ll be like you’re at the Olympics or something,” he says. “Like you’ve won a gold medal.”
    I sigh, trying unsuccessfully to tamp down the smile curling the corners of my mouth.
    This is so typical of Tommy. He’ll do something to upset me, to make me question everything about our relationship, and then he’ll find a way to make me see how much he really cares.
    Besides, everyone knows what red roses symbolize. And they mean a lot more than a wink does.

God, I’m
such
a sucker. And this unbearable kink in my neck is doing
nothing
to improve my outlook.
    I try to rub it with one hand while I toss books into the boxes around me. The last two bookmobile pickups are in the next twenty minutes. I’ve been sitting on the floor of the Student Activities office (again) for about an hour (again) by myself (a-freakin’-gain!).
    The only time I’ve left this room was to watch the girls’ track team make their grand entrance this morning. They marched in with an entourage of cheerleaders and waved to the crowd like pageant contestants. Beth Stuart blew kisses and Katie Miller did a cartwheel and a back handspring through the front lobby. I suppose going to states
is
a big deal. Since I’m the furthest thing from an athlete, I wouldn’t really know.
    Last to enter the school was Marijke Monti and her boyfriend, Tommy Lawson. I don’t really know Marijke, although I’ve had classes with Tommy before. He’s definitely one of the best-looking senior guys—and every girl knows it. I watched him bend to say something to Marijke, and she beamed up at him. In the crook of her arm, she was carrying a dozen red roses. I didn’t know if I should puke or clap along with everyone else.
    Now, shaking my head, I pile the boxes in two separate stacks by the door, leave a note for the bus drivers, then head for the third floor. If I’m late to first period again, I’m not sure Ms. Dotson will be as gracious as she was last week.
Twice
last week, to be precise. The elevators are on the other side of the building, so I take the stairs. Other than the slap of my flip-flops on every step, the stairwell is silent. Which is why I’m completely unprepared for the body that barrels into