not all of us are lucky enough to already be in the theater for seventh period, you study-hall bum.”
With the other two yearbook members on an errand for more printer paper, it’s just us two. I glance at the clock again, my leg bouncing in place. Twenty-six minutes left of class. That’s twenty-six too many. “So are you auditioning?” I ask Kelsey.
“Well, the play needs someone to save it, doesn’t it? So yeah, I was thinking about it. My dads both want me to be ‘less of a spectator, more of a participant’ this year. How ‘bout you?”
“You know I’m not,” I sass back as I frown at the screen, then resize a talk bubble back to normal. No, still looks wrong. I give it a zigzag border. It’s ugly now. “But I want to see who is auditioning.”
“Obviously Frankie will get the lead, but we don’t really have any female leading ladies this year. Have you noticed that?”
I give it a moment’s thought. “Oh … wow, you’re right. Willa graduated last year.”
“Willa graduated last year,” Kelsey echoes with a somber nod.
My eyes flick to the door again. It’d be so easy to just walk on out of the school. The other two members of the staff are such pushovers, they wouldn’t tell anyone if we left. Also, Ms. Reyes is very likely not going to return for the rest of the period. We could pretty much screw off for the next half hour if we wanted.
“You’re tempted,” sings Kelsey in a silly falsetto.
I bite my lip, then feel a smile coming on. “I’m tempted.”
Without so much as asking, she flicks off her monitor, hops off her chair, and darts for the door. I’m out of my seat the next second, and with a laugh, we scurry down the hall toward the exit of the building. We settle on a spot just outside the school baseball field under the bleachers to hang out, our asses on the shaded part of the concrete. Patches of dead grass, dirt, and weeds spread out before us, ending several yards ahead at the brick outer walls of the gymnasium. A few stray trees nearby hiss in the wind, their tall and spidery shadows dancing across the dirt in front of us.
“Okay, so …” Kelsey kicks her heels into the ground, setting free a cloud of dust. “I feel like you avoided this since lunch …”
“Avoided what?”
“Talking about a certain someone … who you seem to be totally avoiding.”
“I’m …” I hug my knees to my chest. “I’m not avoiding him.”
“So what’s going on?”
“He’s in his own little world all the time. I tried to ask him a question in chemistry the other day, and he just looked at me with weird, shifty eyes, shrugged, then went back to taking notes. He probably regrets sticking up for me. Especially now that I know he—” —is on the verge of being expelled for it. Strike one, the principal said. I could be a third of the reason he’s kicked out of yet another school.
Kelsey nudges me. “I don’t think he regrets it. I’m stickin’ to my theory about Domino.”
“His name’s Donovan. And I don’t subscribe to your theory that he’s just ‘shy’.”
“After he wore that white shirt with the weird black dots all over it, he’s Domino to me.” Kelsey starts drawing shapes in the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “And I don’t think my theory is that farfetched. He’s new here. He’s figuring out who everyone is.”
“And has figured me out to be the school loser,” I conclude.
“That wasn’t where I was going with that.” She smacks my arm, causing me to curse and rub it. “Quit talking yourself down so much. It’s annoying. What I was going to say is, you ought to be the aggressor. Make the first move.”
“First move …?”
“Hell yeah. Show him the side of you I got to see when you came over for my birthday party last year. Remember that?”
“I do,” I admit suspiciously, then eye her, still rubbing my arm. “You hit me kinda hard.”
“Or better yet, show him the Toby who goes to the arcade and kicks ass.” She grabs my hand, stopping me from rubbing my arm, then stares at me with meaning. “Show him the Toby who doesn’t nurse his arm after he gets love-smacked by his friend.”
“Love-smacked, you call that?” I free my hand from hers to hug my knees to my stomach again. “First move. Okay. Fine. I’ll …” I let