The Rule of Won Read Online Free PDF Page B

very sweet, but it’s okay! I. . . I like to use it as an excuse to talk to people one on-one!”
    WOULDN’T WANT TO ROB U OF THAT JOY.
    She gave me a look. “You don’t have to write everything out!”
    I’M IMANIFESTING.
    She didn’t laugh. She hadn’t laughed at anything I’d said or done in a long time. Back in middle school, before we were dating, she used to break into hysterics whenever I so much as put a pencil halfway up my nose. Good times.
    Frustrated, I tightened my hand on the pen and was about to jam it up my nostril when she grabbed my hand and mouthed, “Read the book.”
    I
really
didn’t want to do that. It seemed like such a commitment for something I didn’t believe in at all. Then again, I was still wearing that stupid “1” pin. I told myself I’d just forgotten to take it off my overshirt, which I wore every day, but I guess I was still hoping to impress her. I’d look at it every morning, sigh, and figure taking it off was more of an effort than leaving it on.
    With the pin on, though, I noticed other kids wearing them, too—on shirts, backpacks, coats. One senior wore it in her pierced navel, which was certainly attention grabbing. Turns out there were more Crave People, or Cravers, or whatever they call themselves, at school than came to the meeting. It made me wonder if
The Rule
was really all that stupid.
    Speaking of the meeting, at the end of the day, when I trotted out of the main building through a rainy afternoon and into that moldy stink-fest of a trailer, Mike, the jock who’d made a joke about his dog on the board, actually smiled and said, “Caleb, how’s it going?”
    A few of the others gave me “hello” nods when I sat.
    Whoa. Maybe my Crave hadn’t been so stupid.
    Or maybe
The Rule of Won
sort of worked? Nah.
    No one new showed. We even lost maybe five people, but those who remained seemed pretty into it. Erica was there again, writing away. I’d been so busy fretting about my post and trying to get Vicky to go out with me I hadn’t realized until now that she hadn’t been at creative writing all week. Probably skipped it to study algebra.
    Vicky sat next to me and scratched gently at the back of my hair. Given how well lunch had gone, I shook my head, and she stopped. I do have some self-respect. Not a lot, but some.
    Soon the dulcet tones of Ethan Skinson and his vocal stylings filled our ears. “Thanks for coming back.”
    He looked nervous this time. Not All-den nervous. More like he had too much energy. Every now and then his eyes would flash this wild mad scientist look. You’d think it would make him seem more human, but it didn’t.
    â€œI’ve brought something a little special that I’m pretty excited about, but before we get to that, I want to tell you how great it is that so many people posted Craves. Some weren’t exactly serious, but like the book says, we have to understand things superficially before we understand them deeply. I guess making fun of something you don’t understand is one way to get started on that.”
    You could tell he didn’t mean that. Ethan obviously took this
very
seriously and didn’t like it when someone else didn’t. I turned back to Vicky, planning to whisper a joke about his shoelaces, when I noticed how serious
she
looked, and how her pupils dilated a bit as she watched him.
    I knew she liked this guy. Now I was wondering how much. What with the way she’d treated me lately, it was starting to piss me off.
    â€œAnyway, I’ve decided which Crave we should work on first. . .”
    My hand shot up. “Mr. Skinson?”
    Vicky stiffened. Everyone gave me a look. I was the first person other than Ethan to talk during a Crave. Whoop-dee-doo.
    â€œEthan,” Ethan said, clueless I was joking with him.
    â€œMr. Ethan,” I shot back. Mike and Erica stifled a chuckle.