Midnight Games(16)

14

“Jamie, it’s me,” I called. “Are you okay?”

I heard running footsteps. The garage door rolled up a few feet. Jamie slid outside and pushed the door down behind her.

Her face was red, and she was breathing hard.

I jumped back. “Sorry. Why did you scream like that? You . . . you scared me.”

She had a towel in one hand, covered with brown and red stains. She used it to wipe a spot of clay off one cheek.

“I’m sorry too,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scream. It’s just . . . well . . . I don’t allow anyone in my sculpture studio.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Excuse me?”

“It’s kinda my own private space,” she said, balling up the towel between her hands. “It’s my therapy. After the accident . . . after I fell into that excavation hole last year, I was home for months. I needed a lot of rehab time. I turned this studio into my own private world.”

I still didn’t understand why I couldn’t come in and see what she was doing. But no point in arguing with her. She had a rough year, after all. She’s entitled to her own space.

She studied me for a moment. “Dana, how was your first day at our lovely school?”

“Just lovely,” I said. I grabbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Can I talk to you for a minute or two?”

She nodded. “Sure. Give me a sec to clean up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

When she joined me at the kitchen table a few minutes later, she still had a spot of red clay on one cheek. She dropped down across from me and rolled up her sweatshirt sleeves.

“You’re sweating,” I said.

“It’s hot in there,” she said, mopping her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s the kiln. Dad went a little crazy. He got me the biggest kiln they make, I think. It’s like a blast furnace.”

She jumped up, jogged to the fridge, and came back with a bottle of water. After downing half the bottle, she turned to me. “So? What’s up? Your first day at Shadyside High. Details, please.”

I told her about being lost and a little overwhelmed by the size of the place. And I told her about a couple of cute guys I met in the library.

She stuck her finger down her throat and made gagging sounds. “I know those guys. They’re not cute once you get to know them.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I know they’re not the clean-cut, straight-arrow type like Lewis. But I like punky guys.”

She shrugged. “Whatever.” She brushed her wavy, dark hair off one eye. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, I found out something kinda bad after school,” I began. I told her about running into Ada and Whitney on my way to my audition with Ms. Watson. And I told her how I’d applied for the Collingsworth Prize.

“Uh-oh,” Jamie muttered, squeezing the plastic water bottle in her hand. “Ada and Whitney applied too.”

“You got it,” I said.

Jamie took another long slug of water, keeping her eyes on me. “Ada has to be furious,” she said. “She thinks she has that scholarship prize aced.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s strike two for me with your friend Ada.”

Jamie frowned. “Or maybe strike three,” she said. “Ada looks like a little mouse, but she has an awesome temper. Red hair, you know.”

“I got off to a horrible start with Ada,” I said. “I know she’s your good friend. I don’t want her to hate me. But I have to win that prize, Jamie.”

Her mouth dropped open. I guess I was a little intense.

“Don’t you understand? If I don’t win that prize,” I said, “I’ll have to go to work. I won’t be able to go to college.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah, I know, Dana.”

“I feel bad for Ada,” I said. “But I’ll do anything to win.”

Jamie stared hard at me. “Anything?”

“Well . . . ,” I replied. “Yeah. Anything.”





15

I guess I had a few beers. I was feeling pretty good. I mean, there I was at a table full of guys. It was about one A. M. on Wednesday night, and none of the other girls had come into Nights yet.

I was kicking back, having a nice time, flirting with all of them. Nate had an arm draped over my shoulder. Shark kept pulling out his cell, calling that girl Nikki, asking why she wasn’t coming tonight. Lewis and Galen kept tossing popcorn in the air, trying to see who could catch the most in their mouths.

“Who started this idea of sneaking out late at night?” I asked.

“Is it night?” Shark joked. “No wonder it’s so dark!” He’d had more beers than I had.