Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I glowered.
And of course, he bulged his eyes at me, grinning like a fool and mocking my glower.
God, this was going to suck.
“Okay, you two. Get to know each other. And be nice.” Mrs. Young walked away and started helping Josh move his stuff to the free desk across the room.
Oh, goodie, this arrangement came with the added torture of being deskmates too.
“Great. Now we’re stuck together,” I mumbled.
“Oh, I’m not stuck. I asked for you.”
My long, brown hair whipped the side of my face as I cranked my head around to look at him. “You what?”
He took the pencil from my hand and gave the arm of the pencil sharpener a whirl. “You’re the only person I know here.”
“Stop saying that. I don’t know you.”
He tested the tip of the lead on his finger. Finding it unworthy, he guided it back into the sharpener. “Okay, fine. I’ll put it this way. I know your name is Thea Hull. Your dad’s Joe. Your mom just died. You live two houses down from me. You like to hide under the Wynns’ tree. I just so happen to like to hide up it. And you’re always mad about something. That’s more than I know about any other person in this school, short of my little sister, Nora. So yeah, when the teacher asked if I wanted a helper, I asked for you.”
I hated that he knew that much about me. I hated that anyone knew that much about me. This time last year, I’d been a nobody. Just the way I liked it. Then my mother had gotten sick and word traveled fast through our small town. From teachers to students, pity shone on all of their faces. And now that she was dead, the attention was suffocating. I was so dang sick of the sympathetic hugs and awkward stares. If one more person told me they were sorry for my loss, I was going to lose my ever-loving mind.
I couldn’t escape the overwhelming density of sadness in my own house, but for Pete’s sake, I had really been hoping school would be different.
Clearly, I’d been wrong.
Only, right then, as Ramsey shot me a crooked smile that made me debate the merits of dropping out of school in the fifth grade, I realized there wasn’t an ounce of pity anywhere on his stupid—yet kinda cute—face.
For that alone, I decided I wouldn’t use my crutch to push his chair out from under him when he sat down.
“I’m not always mad about something. I’m always mad at you.”
“Me? What did I do?”
I pointedly flashed my gaze from my cast to him and back again. “Are you kidding right now?”
“Oh, come on. How long are you going to hold that against me? It was an accident. I said I was sorry.”
“An accident is running into my bike or knocking over my milk at lunch. Not shattering my ankle. Did you know the doctor said I might walk with a limp for the rest of my life?”
“Then we should probably start thinking about your new nickname now to get ahead of the competition in high school. I think Gimpy has a ring to it.”
My mouth fell open. He had not just said that to me. He had not—
“No wait. What about Ol’ Peg Leg.” He lifted his finger in the air. “Oh, oh, oh! I know. What was the name of that pirate? Captain Jack…” His eyes flashed wide, and his lips stretched so wide that it was a wonder they didn’t swallow his face. “Sparrow.”
It was really unfortunate that I was wearing my favorite white tank top that day, because my head was about to explode all over that classroom.
Leaning in close, I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Listen up, Ramsey. One of these days, I’m going to get this cast off. I may look small, but I’m quiet, and I’m fast, and I know where you live. You call me Gimpy, Peg Leg, or the name of any pirate who ever lived and I will tie you up, bury you in the ditch by the old mill, and then help people search for you across town. Got it?”
That should have been the end of it. Ya know, if I’d been talking to a sane individual with a healthy respect for his own life. But not this kid. Not freaking Ramsey Stewart.
He aimed his smile at his shoes and rocked onto his toes. “Jeez, Thea. Are you flirting with me? I’m not really looking for a girlfriend, but you seem cool, I guess.”
Oh, yes. He’d said that. The ultimate comeback for a ten-year-old. The implication that I liked him when in fact I hated him with the wrath of a thousand daggers—or however the saying went.
I had no other choice than to retreat, collect my thoughts, find a tree, jump out of it, and maybe that time I’d break his leg.