Front Page Face-Off by Jo Whittemore

Author:Jo Whittemore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2010-07-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Who is this guy again?” Major stopped the car in front of the

Brighton Country

Club and reached into his coat pocket.

“Major”—I buried my face in my hands—“tell me you didn’t bring a miniature version of the banned boy book.”

“Of course not. … The print would be too small. These are just the names of the most serious offenders.” He withdrew an index card and held it up.

Marcus was at the very top of the list.

“Gordon Elliott,” I said automatically. “I’m meeting a guy named Gordon Elliott. I doubt he’s on there.”

I knew he wasn’t. Earlier I’d peeked at Major’s book and chosen the most harmless-looking guy in green marker, a seventh grader who snorkeled at the school pool during lunch hour.

Major scanned the index card and nodded. “All right, then. But I want you to take this to be safe.” He handed me a tiny spray canister.

“Uh … no. I’m not going to Mace any of my classmates.”

“This is cinnamon extract. It stings just as much when sprayed in the eyes, but the effects don’t last as long.” He forced it into my palm. “Also, the smell triggers memory functions, so your date will remember not to attack you in the future.”

“He’s not my date.” I dropped the cinnamon spray into the silver purse left over from my flower girl days. “I’m just showing up with him because I can’t go alone.”

I looked out the car window and almost jumped when I saw Marcus standing by the entrance to the country club. I ducked my head so my hair hung over my face, but I quickly realized it was a terrible disguise since I was the only redhead pledging the Little Debbies. Still, I peeked at him through my dangling strands.

Marcus had actually skipped his usual sports ensemble and worn a button-up shirt and tucked it into his jeans. If he’d bothered to brush his hair, which stood up in odd, spiky tufts, he could have passed for someone fairly gorgeous.

“I should get going,” I told Major. “Gordon’s probably waiting inside.”

Major peered around me. “He should have waited for you out here, like that young gentleman is doing for his date.” He pointed at Marcus, who chose that moment to glance in my direction. “You know, he looks vaguely familiar.”

Up until that point, I’d never believed in mental telepathy, but I focused all my concentration on melding my mind with his.

Don’t come over here, I thought. Do something gross so Major stops staring.

Marcus missed the second half of my message, but he seemed to catch the first bit and turned away, gazing across the parking lot.

“Gotta go,” I blurted at Major, fumbling for the door handle. “Pick me up at nine. Thanks!”

I closed the car door behind me, and then Major pulled a parental maneuver straight from the How to Embarrass Your Teen manual. He rolled down the passenger-side window and called across the car, “He won’t be afraid to make a move, so don’t be afraid to spray him!”

Luckily, nobody was close enough to hear this gem of wisdom but me.

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