Playing with Matches Read Online Free PDF Page B

couldn’t be sure, but I thought Pete almost smiled. He pulled a yellow pad out of his belt and wrote me a detention slip. It was the most serious punishment he could give; for anything worse, he’d have to go through the principal, as well as a puddle of puke.
    “After school today.” He retreated to his booth.
    Amy wordlessly passed me a bottle of Gatorade, which I chugged.
    “You couldn’t smoke unfiltered?” I wanted to say more, but I had to go change into my gym shoes.
             
    Samantha didn’t look up when I grabbed her water, rinsed out my mouth, and spit into the bottle.
    “If you’re trying to get me horny, it’s not working.”
    “I’ve been chewing on Amy Green’s cigarettes.” I began eating Samantha’s raisin muffin but decided I’d rather taste the vomit.
    “You know, Leon, there’s such a thing as trying too hard to impress a girl.”
    I wiped my mouth on a napkin and stood as the warning bell rang.
    “I don’t believe that for a minute.”
    I hurried to chemistry in hopes that Amy was waiting for me to thank me for saving her butt (and swallowing it). As it turned out, she didn’t wander in until the final bell rang, and didn’t look in my direction.

6
    HARD WORK PAYS OFF EVENTUALLY, BUT LAZINESS PAYS OFF RIGHT NOW
    G od was kind to me. My study hall was right before lunch, giving me a solid hour with nothing to do. I made my way to the library, wondering if I should spend my time downloading music in the computer lab or napping behind the reference stacks.
    “Hey, Sanders!” Johnny corner checked me into a bank of lockers.
    “Hey, Johnny.” I rubbed my shoulder.
    “I heard you got busted smoking today. Someone said you got sick and threw up on Amy Green.”
    Goddammit! “I wasn’t smoking; she was. I had to eat her cigarette so she wouldn’t get caught…and I puked.”
    I could see the little gears turning in Johnny’s head as he tried to decide why he should be making fun of me. I ducked into the library as he was still thinking of an insult.
    The Zummer library always reminded me of a soundstage. It was like someone had built a school library for show, not for use. It was almost always abandoned, and you got the impression that the books were just cardboard props. I’d read enough of them to know they were real, but whenever I checked out books, I felt like an extra in some movie.
    I grabbed a computer and settled down for thirty minutes’ worth of hard studying. Right when I logged on to an online video game site, I felt a familiar presence behind me. Melody stood next to my chair, waiting for me to notice her. I quickly stood up.
    “Ah, you probably think I forgot that we were supposed to work on the project. But as you can see”—I grandly gestured at the tanks battling on the computer screen—“I’m already doing research.”
    Melody just stood there, staring me right in the chin, clutching her binder to her chest. She reminded me of a child lost at the shopping mall, too terrified to ask for help. I remembered how I’d railroaded her into partnering with me on the assignment.
    “That was a joke, Melody. So what topic are we supposed to be writing about?” Any schmuck could write a report when he knew what the subject was.
    “We have several options.” Her head continued to tilt downward, until all I could see was the scarf wrapped around her scalp. I was getting a neck cramp trying to maintain eye contact.
    “Okay, Melody, that’s enough.”
    Her head jolted back up. “Wha…?”
    “My eyes are up here!” I crossed my arms over my chest and affected a falsetto. “You know, I’m not just a hunk of meat. You women are all alike!”
    For a second I thought Melody was crying; then I realized she was trying to stifle laughter.
    I grinned at her. “Now, if you’re through with the peep show, let’s get started.” I pointed to an empty table. “And don’t try to pull the chair out for me; I’m not that type of boy.”
    Melody neatly laid