Free Fade by Lisa McMann Page A

inside the front cover of a green spiral notebook and dwelling on her nightmare. She walks down the school
    hallways in a daze, nearly bumping into Carrie between classes with
    Bashful and Doc.
    “Hey, Janers, wanna hang out tonight?”
    “Sure.” Janie thinks. “Um, I mean, I can"t. Sorry.”
    Carrie gives her an odd look. “You okay? You"re not gonna keel over,
    are you?”
    Janie shakes the cobwebs from her head and grins. “Sorry. No, I"m fine.
    I"ve just got my mind on other shit. Colleges and stuff. I"ve got a bunch
    of junk to fill out, the house is a mess, and I"m working on a nasty headache already today.”
    “Okay,” Carrie says. “I just thought you might like the latest gossip.”
    She looks crestfallen. Of course, lately, Carrie only wants to hang out
    with Janie if Stu is playing poker. Janie doesn"t mind being called upon
    only when Carrie"s first choice is busy, though. She keeps busy enough
    without Carrie hanging around all the time.
    “What about Melinda?”
    “Thanks,” Carrie says sarcastically, “but you don"t need to set up a
    playdate for me. I can find my own things to do. I"ll catch you later.”
    Janie blinks. “Whatever,” she says under her breath. And walks into Mr.
    Wang"s room. He"s watching her walk in as he pretends to look at a
    paper in his hands. She smiles automatically. When he doesn"t smile or
    look away, she winks.
    That does it.
    He flushes and sits down abruptly.
    ı
    Third hour. Mr. Durbin"s class. Janie waits until after class to present the
    flyers for the March 4 party. She takes her time packing up her table.
    Soon she is the last one there. From the corner of her eye, she sees Mr.
    Durbin watching her.
    She pulls the flyers out and hurries up to his desk, like she doesn"t want
    to be late for her next class. “Does this look all right?”
    He takes them and gives an approving whistle. “Great,” he says. He
    turns to her and raises his eyebrows. “I like,” he says, staring at her now.
    She leans forward on his desk, just slightly. “There"s more where that
    came from,” she says. “If you ever need any.”
    He swallows. “I"ll have to take you up on that sometime.”
    She smiles. “Gotta go.”
    “Before you go,” Mr. Durbin says, “I"ve got the okay on the chem. fair
    and a team of seven students, if you"re game. It"s February 20. We"ll
    leave Sunday the nineteenth at noon, set up our display, stay overnight,
    do the fair, and start home around six p.m. on Monday, so we only miss
    one day of class. Here"s the info and permission slip for your parents to
    sign. Cost is two hundred and twenty bucks, plus money for meals. You
    in?”
    Janie grins. “I"m in.” She takes the slip of paper from Mr. Durbin and
    darts out the door before she"s late to her next class, glancing as she runs
    at the list of students who will be on the Fieldridge team. Janie"s the
    only one from her class who is going.
    Excellent , she thinks.
    ı
    Dopey, Dippy, and Dumbass are the same as always. Janie actually likes
    PE now, since Cabel got her into working out. Although she could do
    without Dumbass. She also adores her self-defense class she"s taking
    twice a week. Sometimes Cabel lets her practice on him. Not really very often, though.
    Not after she landed his ass on the floor.
    PE is coed again, and Dumbass Coach Crater likes to use her as an
    example for why they no longer play guys versus girls with contact
    sports. It"s because she cracked Cabel"s "nads in a basketball game last
    semester. On purpose.
    Today, Dumbass makes them do the state-required strength tests, and
    Janie takes the class record for the girls in the flexed-arm hang. Dumbass notices her muscular arms and shoulders, and calls her Buffy
    as she"s hanging there. She rolls her eyes and wishes he"d stand right in
    front of her. If she ever sees him on a dark street, she"ll teach him to sing,
    she decides.
    ı
    Study hall is quiet. Janie only gets sucked into one dream, and it"s a
    weak one. Not a