So Much Closer Read Online Free PDF Page A

twirly thing with it where he quickly flips it over his hand. If I tried that, my pen would probably fly across the room and stab someone’s eye out. Scott sits with one sneaker up against his chair rung. He’s kind of too tall for his desk. He has this way of flipping pages in his book like he’s trying to rip them out or something. He flips pages roughly, with purpose. I never sat close enough to notice that before. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Scott was last year when I sat two rows behind him in English.
    This is so much better.
    When the bell rings, everyone scrambles. This is our last class of the day. It would be pretty easy to talk to Scott now. Or I could just see if he talks to me first. I take my time putting my things away. Who knew this pencil was so fascinating?
    “Hey,” Scott goes.
    “Hey.”
    “Can you believe this class?”
    “I know.”
    “It would be practically illegal to have something like this back in Jersey.”
    “Seriously.” I moved here for you. We belong together.
    “So,” he says, “see you Monday?”
    “If not before.”
    “Right, in the nabe! Which reminds me—are you going to RiverFlicks?”
    “What’s that?”
    “You don’t know about RiverFlicks?”
    “I just got here, remember?”
    “Sorry.” Scott flashes a smile that makes girls stare at him from across the room. “I’ve had the whole summer to investigate. It’s this thing over at Hudson River Park—”
    “I was just there last night!”
    “Oh, cool. They do these outdoor movies all summer and tonight’s the last one.”
    “What is it?”
    “Excellent question.” Scott considers this. “I forget, but it’s a good one. I’m going.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. You should come check it out.”
    “Maybe I will.”
    What does that mean, exactly? You should come check it out. Is he saying I should go just because I’d like it? Or was that supposed to be some low-key way of asking me out?

    The movie screen is enormous. I can see the movie starting from all the way down the street. I didn’t want to get here early. I didn’t want to seem as desperate as I am.
    That was a mistake.
    Pier 54 is packed. There’s a section of folding chairs set up right in front of the screen with space to sit on the grass behind them. Every single chair is taken. The grass is crammed with people. There’s no way I could squeeze myself in. I keep searching for a free space along the edge of the crowd.
    I don’t see Scott anywhere. He should be here already. Maybe he’s waiting for me. He might be saving me a seat.
    This would be the perfect place to tell him. Outdoor movie. Moonlight on the river. The streetlights of our hometown glowing somewhere in the distance.
    I carefully step over a leg, pressing up against the railing along the edge of the pier. I slink closer to the front, trying not to block anyone’s view.
    Then I see him. I had tons of practice memorizing the back of Scott’s head from all that time staring at it in English last year, so I totally recognize him. He’s sitting in the fourth row. It would be impossible to get all the way up there on this side of the pier, but there’s a bit more space on the other side.
    I cut across behind the chair section, ducking. Now I can see that Scott didn’t save a seat for me. Maybe he tried. Once the movie starts, you probably have to give up the seat you’re saving if the person you’re saving it for isn’t here yet. I hope he doesn’t think I’m not coming.
    Some folding chairs are leaning against each other on a cart. I don’t know if you’re allowed to take one. I should go for it. If I take a chair up to Scott’s row, he could switch seats with the person at the end. We could still sit together.
    I slide a chair off the cart. Before I realize what’s happening, all the other chairs fall over. There’s this huge clatter of metal chairs clanging against concrete.
    Everyone turns away from the movie.
    They all look at me.
    Including Scott.
    And the