The Best Man Read Online Free PDF

Lynette Stanley and Natalie Schuster became almost friendly. They never went to each other’s house. Nobody ever went to Natalie’s house. You could picture it, but didn’t go there. Still, Lynette and Natalie sat in the swings at noon, eating their sandwiches, throwing big words at each other.
    â€œWhat’s that about?” I asked Lynette. “You and Natalie?”
    â€œI don’t want her for an enemy,” Lynette said. “Anyway, do
you
want to have lunch with me?”
    â€œNot really,” I said. It would have been okay except for people making comments.
    I ate lunch up in the bleachers of the all-purpose room with two Joshes and Raymond Petrovich. Nobody bought the school lunch. Nobody. You brought a sandwich from home. My dad made mine.
    It could be anything: leftover poached salmon on weird, foreign-tasting bread. Chutney and pepperjelly, oozing out of the bread. Sometimes a side salad in a Tupperware container with lettuce in mud colors and his own homemade croutons.
    I was the only kid in school with croutons. Nobody wanted to swap lunches with me. Nobody.
    One noon a few of us were having lunch when a kid ran in from outside and up the bleachers to me. He may have been a third grader.
    â€œHey, Archer,” he yelled, “your girlfriend’s beating up Natalie Schuster.”
    Everybody swarmed down the bleachers and out the door. Natalie and Lynette were in the dirt by the swings.
    This was the first girl fight of the year. And Lynette outweighed Natalie. Lynette outweighed me. Natalie was flat on her back. Lynette straddled her. There was major hair-pulling and screaming from both of them.
    As a crowd formed, the screaming let up. Lynette had Natalie pinned and spoke in a low and dangerous voice. “Take back what you said. Retract it.”
    â€œI’m taking nothing back.” Natalie squirmed. “It’s all true. I got it straight from the adults, and get off me, you big cow. This skirt’s from Nordstrom. Where’s my phone? I’m taking a selfie for evidencewhen my mother sues the school for having you in it, you big, fat, bovine—”
    Whoa. Natalie shouldn’t have used the fat word. Besides, Lynette was mostly muscle, as Natalie was finding out.
    While the schoolyard held its breath, Lynette climbed off Natalie and brushed herself down. Little Josh Hunnicutt was standing right there, and his eyes were the biggest thing about him. He was still the smallest kid in our grade.
    No teacher came running. Mrs. Forsyth couldn’t come running. She was in her third trimester.
    Natalie was sprawled out and scared to budge till Lynette moved away. I got this idea she was going to stomp on Natalie. Crazy idea, but Lynette was having it too.
    Her legs shook. She was itching to jump on Natalie with both sneakers and pound her into the playground.
    I came up behind her. “Better let it go, Lynette.”
    She whipped around, hauling off to swing. But she saw me, and her arms kind of hung down. Tears were coming, which you don’t see on Lynette.
    â€œDon’t,” I said. “I’ve got a plan.”
    I didn’t, but I took her by the hand to walk herout of this. Let people make comments if it made them feel better. By fifth grade can’t you have the friends you want?
    We’d nearly made our big exit when behind us Natalie howled out, “Lynette Stanley!” Lynette spun around, and so did I because I wouldn’t let go of her hand.
    Instead of a backpack, Natalie carried her stuff around in a lady’s leather handbag with a Gucci bar on it and a scarf tied to the handle. She’d dumped everything out on the ground. Even her eyeliner, which she put on after she got to school. Most mornings she looked like a startled raccoon. Eyeliner in fifth grade? Yes, if you’re Natalie. She’d worn it in fourth.
    â€œWhere’s my phone, Lynette? Did you steal it?” She was a little braver with some