Free Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli

your ears. He never meets an ear he doesn’t love. By the time he’s done, that ear of yours will be clean as a whistle. Especially if there’s some leftover peanut butter in it.”
    I could feel the tiny tongue mopping the crevices of my left ear. “It tickles!” I felt something else. “I feel teeth!”
    “He’s just scraping something off for you. You must have something crusty in there. Have you washed your ears lately?”
    “None of your business.”
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get personal.”
    “I forgive you.”
    All was quiet for a while, except for the snuffing in my ear. I could hear the rat breathing. His tail drooped into my front shirt pocket.
    “Do you want to confess now?”
    “Confess what?” I said.
    “That you’re actually starting to like having a rodent poking around in your ear.”
    I smiled. I nodded, dislodging the rat’s nose for a moment. “I confess.”
    More silence, tiny breathing in my ear.
    “Well,” she said at last, “we have to go in now. Say good night, Cinnamon.”
    No,
I thought,
don’t go
.
    “I still have another ear,” I said.
    “If he does that one, he’ll never want to leave you, and I’ll be jealous. Come on, Cinnamon. Time for beddy bye.”
    Cinnamon went on snuffing.
    “He’s not coming, is he?”
    “Nope.”
    “Then just take hold of him and put him on the ground.”
    I did so. As soon as I put the rat down, he scooted under the tailpipe and out of sight on the other side of the car.
    The shadow withdrew. I heard the front door open. Light gushed out. “’Night, Leo.”
    “’Night,” I called.
    I didn’t want to leave. I wished I could curl up right there on the driveway and go to sleep. I had been crouching for a long time. It was a chore just to stand. I was halfway home before I could walk right.

17
    Just two weeks before, I had found out she knew my name, and now I was loopy with love. I was floating. I floated up the white light that washed my sheets and slept on the moon. In school I was a yellow balloon, smiling and lazy, floating above the classrooms. I felt a faint tug on my string. Far below, Kevin was calling, “You’re in love, dude!” I merely smiled and rolled over and drifted dreamily out a window.
    This state lasted until lunch, when suddenly I became self-conscious. I was certain that everyone in school knew. They would be waiting for me, turning as I entered the lunchroom, staring. I was uncomfortable in the spotlight, always had been. I was happy to stay behind the camera and let Kevin take the bows out front.
    So I hid for those thirty-five minutes in the gym equipment room. I sat atop a rolled-up wrestling mat, kicking a volleyball against the opposite wall. I had nothing to eat—I had intended to buy—but I wasn’t hungry.
    After school we found each other, not that we had to look.
    She took Cinnamon from her bag and put him on her shoulder. “Shake paws with Leo, Cinnamon.”
    Cinnamon and I shook paws.
    “Do you believe in enchanted places?” she said.
    “You talking to me or the rat?”
    She smiled. She dazzled. “You.”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”
    “I’m going to show you one.”
    “What if I don’t want to see it?”
    “You think you have a choice?”
    She grabbed my hand and almost pulled me off my feet, laughing out loud, and we flew across the school fields, swinging hands for all the world to see.
    We walked for miles, out past the business park, MicaTronics, the golf course, into the desert. “Look familiar?” she said.
    By now, Cinnamon was riding my shoulder. And I was carrying the ukulele, strumming nonsense. “It’s where we came that day,” I said.
    She gave a snort. “
We? I
was coming out here,
you
were half a mile behind.” She poked my shoulder. “
Sneaking
after me.” She poked me again, hard this time, but her eyes were twinkling. “
Stalking
me.”
    I acted horrified, hurt. “Stalking? I was not stalking. I was just lagging behind a