Stealing Our Way Home by Cecilia Galante

Stealing Our Way Home by Cecilia Galante

Author:Cecilia Galante
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.


Ben’s not in my homeroom, which normally would have bummed me out, since we’ve shared the same homeroom for the last four years, but now it fills me with a strange sort of relief. I don’t need any more weird scenes between us than what’s already going to come. Because I know it’ll be strange. I know he’s probably still mad at me for calling him an idiot and that he’ll ignore me in the halls or pretend he doesn’t know me when someone says my name. I don’t need the added stress of being invisible. Not to Ben, who I thought would be my best friend for the rest of my life. Not right now.

But when I find out that I’m in Mr. Evans’ homeroom, I get really bummed out, because Mr. Evans is bald and pudgy and seriously one of the weirdest people on the planet. He wears crazy ties that stop halfway down his shirt and belts with huge cowboy buckles. And he has this horrible habit of picking his nose when he thinks no one is looking and then flicking it under his desk. It’s gross. It really is. Every time I leave his room, I feel like I need to take a shower.

But then Shelby walks in with her pink cowboy boots and white skirt. Everyone turns to stare at her, and I start to feel a tiny bit better about the situation because I know I already have a leg up on everyone else.

Then she sees me. Almost immediately, she turns around and heads for a desk on the other side of the room.

Great.

I knew I should have kept my mouth shut about that dumb rattlesnake guy at the bus stop. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I really don’t. I never would have been such a jerk like that in the past. Part of me still wants to impress her in the hopes that she’ll like me. And then there’s another part that doesn’t care, because I know it wouldn’t work anyway. Liking someone means spending time with them, talking on the phone, and finding out all their stuff. And if Shelby found out about my stuff—at least, the real stuff—she’d turn and run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Just like she did right now.



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