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Chapter One

Booker

“Friends, lovers, countrymen, lend me your earholes,” Dean announces to our AP History class His arn poster Half the class is paying attention and the other half is gru to talk about for the next fifty minutes

“It’s enemies,” corrects Tommy

Dean drops his arht”

“It’s eneives a firm nod

“It’s Ros until they’re nearly bu the back of Carrie Montlain’s battered Converse sneakers How long has she had those? Tenth grade? Ninth? I tilt my head to see if the baseball I drew on the heel in our sophomore Intro to Art class is still there, but it looks like it’s been rubbed off Too bad

“Ro?”

Dean and I exchange looks over Toe, but he doesn’t mean any harm

“Romans is in the Bible, ainst Carrie’s shoe She doesn’t turn around right away, so I nudge her again

“What do you want, Peters?” she asks withoutHer pretty neck is bent over her notebook where she’s undoubtedly sketching so the local co and then go on to work at her grandparent’s ice creairl is fucking talented in art She should be going to soious art school

“Are these the same Converse you had in Art 101?”

Her ar “No”

“Oh That’s good” I slide down intomy feet even farther under hers She tries to shift, but ives in and leaves her feet tucked between mine I don’t knohy I care, but I do It’s like that’s where she belongs, which is weird because we’re friends That’s all it’s ever been between us no otten a woody because of her She o that she didn’t think of me in that way and that if I respected her at all, I’d just be friends with her I do respect her I like Carrie She’s funny and s talented artist Friends is fine I’irl I mean, I’ve had some fantasies—okay, a lot of fantasies—about her but I haven’t acted on theet a damned medal for that

“Don’t you have baseballs to hit?” she says, head still down over her paper I lean forward for a gli hair cover it

“Baseball is over”