Free The Pages Between Us by Lindsey Leavitt Page B

when you went to French Club today it ended up having lots of castable members—and people for me to practice the art of conversation with.
    I’m putting together a plan for how to approach Jackson when I see him at LEGO Club. I call it “My Plan of Attack.” Too aggressive?
    My optional title is the 2-3-73 Plan.
    I figure if I say TWO intriguing things . . .
    Followed by THREE flirty gestures . . .
    The odds of him realizing that I actually LIKE HIM will run at about seventy-three percent.
    I don’t have any actual math to back that up—it’s just more of a hunch. Anyway, those are my working titles. I will createsome flowcharts to plan this out in greater detail. Planning ahead is one of my few strengths.
    See you soon (bruiseless and with a pinkie toe that works),
    Olivia
    Grateful for:
    1. The visual of that guy in LARP actually saying the words “I’m putting a monkey brain in a baby”
    2. The fact that medicine has advanced so much that putting a monkey brain in a baby is probably possible (though not all that practical for the baby)
    3. That my bruise is still visible so I have a conversation starter if needed
    4. YouTube videos that teach you how to become a better chess player
    5. That casserole Mom made

Chapter 13
Olivia (did you know that’s a French name? Oui ?),
    We need a rule. No missing school two days in a row. You think one class together isn’t a big deal, but that one class is the best part of the day. And after the second day of not having someone to share details with, not having someone to meet with during locker breaks, you start to feel a little sad faced. ☹
    And by you, I mean me. Because YOU, Olivia, were home today and I was in class.
    Anyway, I was ☹. You are my favorite person, and I wanted to see you. But the good news is, it’s Friday and hopefully you are recovered enough this weekend that we can get together. We absolutely MUST strategize, since LEGO Club is on Monday. I’m actually a little nervous for you. Not that you should be nervous.
    I mentioned LARP to my parents and my dad said, “Oh, that’s perfect for you, Pipe.”
    And I was, like, “Um . . . thank you? Are you being serious?”
    Mom nodded. “Think of the live nativity our family putson every Christmas. You’ve been writing and directing that since you were three!”
    Which is true. Remember the anxiety I had about the twins’ birth and not being sure who should be baby Jesus?
    Then Dad said, “And look at all those videos with your brothers that you put online. Maybe you can film your LARP Club and stick it up there too. Everyone loves watching the stuff you come up with.”
    I would be embarrassed to put my name on the patchy plot-line our group came up with last week, but it’s not a bad idea.
    Also, they didn’t say LARPing was dorky or anything, and listened and laughed when I explained that between volunteering at the shelter and my LARP character, I may develop a cat allergy.
    I like my dad’s laugh. And my mom’s attention.
    There, I said it.
    But back to today. Fourth period. Super bizarre events occurred. In math class, Joel Lamier stopped at my desk during group time and said, “Hey, do you need your pencil sharpened?”
    â€œI’m using a mechanical pencil.”
    â€œIf you ever do, I’m a really good sharpener. I get the point super pointy.”
    â€œThanks, but I’m . . . pointy enough.”
    And then Joel looked nervous talking to me. Actually nervous. I wondered if he had to go to the bathroom and had already used up his two free passes this year because he just kept standing there. “So . . . your brother is Luke Jorgensen, right?”
    I wanted to say, “Yeah, that’s why we have the same last name.” But I controlled myself. Joel’s pencils might be sharp, but he isn’t. It didn’t seem fair to throw him sarcasm. Maybe he can play