There Will Be Bears by Ryan Gebhart

Author:Ryan Gebhart [Gebhart, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-7636-7044-3
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2014-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

The next morning, I’m able to get in two sets of ten push-ups and fifteen sit-ups, and then I do some arm curls with my backpack loaded with my books. I walk to school eating one of Mom’s really dry and disgusting protein bars.

Ms. Hoole is typing on her laptop in homeroom. The test waits on the desk in front of her.

“Hey, Tyson. Have a seat. You’ll have fifty minutes to finish, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

The first three questions are all ones that Ashley quizzed me on yesterday. This thing is easy. I mean, the Boston Tea Party? More like, the Boston I-Just-Answered-You-Correctly Party.

I hand in my test with ten minutes left.

“Done already?” She takes out her red pen, does her marks, then hands the paper back. And there it is, an eighty-eight written in her bubbly handwriting. Next to a smiley cat face. I’m trying to act all normal, but my brain is tingling and my hands are warm. This is the first time in forever that my grade isn’t accompanied by a grumpy cat face.

The bell rings for first period, and I hurry to the auditorium, where Karen sits on the far end. With my test stuffed into my back pocket, I take the chair one row behind her, my closest so far.

Don’t be myself. Don’t be the psycho Internet stalker she met at Brighton’s. Be cool and/or funny and have one of those hot half smiles and slightly narrowed eyes.

I got this.

I poke her neck with my pencil eraser. “Hey.”

“Ow.” Karen turns. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she’s rubbing her neck. “What was that for?”

“What wasn’t it for?”

She smirks. I can work with that. She says, “Didn’t really get a chance to talk to you the other night. Not too often I meet another hunter.”

“Yeah, well, you know. I don’t like to brag.”

“What kind of animals do you hunt?”

I force back a stutter. “Elk, mostly.”

“Oh, yeah, my granddad told me this area has some of the largest elk herds. I see ’em all over the place. What’s your largest one?”

“Oh, well, there was this one time last season I shot a buck with six points.”

“Bull.”

How can she see right through me? “I’m not lying.”

“No, no. You said you shot a buck, but bucks are male deer. Bulls are male elk.”

“Oh, yeah. I shoot so many, sometimes I get confused.”

She nods, and I can only pray she believes me. “So you just go out in your backyard and shoot one?”

“We don’t hunt the elk here. We go to the Grand Tetons.”

“Fun! My granddad says Wyoming’s got a lot of regulations. You don’t have to prove the animal’s sex in Texas.”

“That’s weird.” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“What’s it like?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never field-dressed an animal. The hunting guides on the ranch always did the dirty work. What’s it like cutting open an elk?”

“Like breaking open a piñata, I guess. But instead of candy falling out, there’s like . . . intestines.”

“Ew!” The sound of her laughter is so rewarding.

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