Free AAAARGH!!! by Bill Myers

to normal (well, as normal as possible with two boys from the 23rd century haunting her life).
    Maybe the old saying really was true. Maybe honesty really was the best policy.
    These were the thoughts spinning through TJ’s brain until she looked down at the sand and froze. Because there, with everybody else’s footprints, were holes spaced evenly apart.
    Holes that could only be made by someone with a peg leg!
    Or . . .
    “Hey.”
    She looked up and was startled to see Chad Steel just ahead. He was walking on the beach with his crutches. Immediately, her hand shot up to her hair to smooth it . . . or cover her face . . . or both. There was also the sudden pounding of her heart, so loud she barely heard her own voice croak back, “Hi.”
    He waited for her to catch up. She ordered her legs to move and someway—she wasn’t sure how—they obeyed. A moment later they were walking side by side.
    After a few seconds of deathly silence (which felt more like years of deathly silence), Chad finally cleared his throat. “That was something today in English class, wasn’t it?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    More deathly silence.
    He tried again. “I mean, whoever that actor was, he was good.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Repeat in the deathly silence department.
    “Talk about a fast exit. It was like he disappeared right out of my hands.”
    “Uh-huh.” TJ was sure she knew other words, but at the moment she couldn’t think of any.
    He turned to look at the sun setting over the water. Purple and pink bands spread across the sky, so vivid it was like it was on fire. “Sure is pretty,” he said.
    All right, it was now or never. She would go out on a limb. She would say something deep and profound. Something that would impress this incredible guy with her incredible intelligence. Taking a deep breath for courage, she went for broke and croaked, “Yeah.”
    (So much for incredible intelligence.)
    They continued down the beach.
    Once again he tried to make conversation. “I come here this time of night when I have things to work out.”
    She turned to him, amazed. Of course she wanted to tell him that’s exactly why she was there. Unfortunately, that would involve opening her mouth and sounding like a human being, which she knew was out of the question, so she let him continue.
    “Doug Claudlooper has been building this fancy surfboard that he wants me to use in Sunday’s competition.”
    TJ returned to her old habits. “Uh-huh.” (Better safe than sorry.)
    “I mean, it’s supposed to help me win and everything—even with this stupid cast, which no one would notice under my wet suit.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “But using a nonregulation board is definitely cheating, and I just don’t know if I want to do that.”
    If TJ’s jaw had dropped any lower, it would have hit the sand. Was it possible? He was struggling with the very thing she was! Unbelievable. Here she was, feeling so alone and cut off, absolutely positive that nobody would understand what she was going through . . . and then, out of the blue, this incredible guy showed up and said he was fighting exactly the same thing. Amazing. She wasn’t alone. She wanted to say all this and more, but her throat was already closing up with emotion. She cleared it and tried to speak, to blurt out all these feelings and more, but of course nothing came . . . unless you count tears filling her eyes.
    Tears?! she thought. Oh, brother, what’s that about? She turned her head. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t see them. (Then again, we all know about her luck.)
    “Hey, you okay?” he asked.
    She angrily swiped at her eyes.
    “Are you crying?”
    She shook her head, refusing to look at him.
    “You are, aren’t you? What did I say this time?”
    And then, before she could stop herself, she turned and bolted away. She wasn’t sure why. All she knew was she had to get away before he thought she was a total mental case—which, she figured, he might already suspect.
    “Hey!” he shouted.
    But TJ