Thirteen Read Online Free PDF Page A

smidgen of apology in it.
    Whatever , I thought. But because I was me, I muttered “bye” back. I didn’t even slam the door.
    Â 
    Over lunch, I vented to Dinah and Cinnamon. Dinah slurped her chocolate milk, nodding with wide eyes, while Cinnamon scowled on my behalf. She shoved around her carrot sticks, which she was eating to try and lose weight. That made her scowly, too.
    â€œShe turned the whole day bad,” I complained. “She took her own stupid mood and forced it on me.”
    â€œDo you think she and Bo are going to break up?” Dinah asked.
    â€œThey better not,” Cinnamon said. She and Dinah were Bo fans, too. “She’d be throwing away the best thing that ever happened to her.”
    â€œI know,” I said.
    â€œShe doesn’t deserve him,” Cinnamon went on. “He’s, like, a golden boy. She’s a pile of poop.”
    â€œWell…not a pile of poop ,” I said.
    â€œSandra’s really nice when she’s not being a jerk,” Dinah said loyally. “She could be a golden girl if she wanted. If she were a cheerleader.”
    â€œSandra would never be a cheerleader,” I said. “She’s more like the anti-cheerleader.”
    â€œExcept she’s still really beautiful,” Dinah said.
    Cinnamon admitted it with a nod. I felt a familiar pang, because I knew I wasn’t.
    I changed the subject. Kind of. “It’s like, everything comes back to boy-girl stuff. Sandra’s fighting with Bo. Ty’s in a tizzy over this girl, Lexie, and you want to know why? Because her pants are sparkly.”
    Cinnamon snorted.
    â€œAnd Lars hardly ever talks to me except in class, and then it’s just to say comment ça va and où se trouve la biblio-theque !” Even though Lars was in eighth grade and I was in seventh, we had French together.
    â€œAt least he doesn’t take Spanish,” Cinnamon said. Cinnamon took Spanish. Señor Torres made the girls partner up with girls and the boys partner up with boys, because of hormones.
    â€œIt’s so annoying, though!” I said. “He did hold my hand, right? I didn’t make that up, did I?”
    â€œHe did,” Dinah said. “I saw.”
    â€œThere was definite hand-to-hand contact,” Cinnamon agreed.
    It had happened publicly, the hand-holding, which at the time made it all the more miraculous. Lars and I were outside the junior high building waiting to be picked up, and his hand reached over and grabbed mine. His grabbed mine . He initiated.
    Should a guy hold a girl’s hand if he’s never going to do it again?
    No, he should not.
    â€œListen, Win,” Cinnamon said.
    I looked at her, wishing she wouldn’t call me “Win.” “Win” was Lars’s name for me, just as “Lars” was my name for him. His real name was “Larson,” which was nice, but “Lars” was better.
    â€œWhen it comes to love, you have to be fierce,” she said. “Sometimes the girl has to make the move. Sad, but true.”
    I sighed. “I am fierce in love. You cannot call me unfierce in love. Right, Dinah?”
    â€œHuh?” She grabbed one of my fries, which I was too heartsick to eat anyway.
    â€œWith Toby,” I said. “Remember?”
    â€œOh, god,” Cinnamon said. “The guy who was your sixth grade Valentine’s Day crush? Please tell me we’re not going back to that.”
    â€œYou weren’t there, so shush,” I said. Cinnamon was an alpha-omega at Westminster, meaning that she’d been here since Pre-K. Dinah and I had gone to Trinity through sixth, and then switched over. Toby, on the other hand, now went to Woodward.
    â€œWinnie was very brave with Toby,” Dinah affirmed. “She called him up and pledged her undying affection.”
    I blushed. “ No .”
    â€œAnd his brother made fun of her, and it was very scarring,”