Free Stick by Andrew Smith Page A

over, Stick.
    I hope you know that.
    Maybe for Easter vacation, you
    can come over and
    spend a couple of nights here at our house.”
    â€œThat would be nice. Thank you, Mrs. Lohman.”
    â€œI’ll talk to your parents about it. Ask them for you.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œYou hang on, sweetie, and I’ll get her.”
    I chewed my lip. I think it started to bleed.
    Finally, Emily came to the phone.
    â€œHey, Stick.”
    â€œEm.”
    â€œWhat’s up?”
    â€œUh. I just wanted to say hi. ’Cause I can’t come over today, since we’re going to the Buckleys’ house.”
    â€œYou sound weird. Are you weirded out again?”
    â€œNo. Really. It’s just I felt bad talking to your mom is all, and I felt bad about Bosten getting in trouble because of me. Dad whipped him pretty bad. And I mostly really wished we could hang out together today.”
    I could hear Emily cupping her hand around the mouthpiece of the phone. And she whispered,
    â€œI bet I know why you wanted to hang out today.”
    I sighed. “That’s not why.”
    â€œWhat time are you leaving?”
    â€œMom has to make potato salad. We’re on potato salad time. I think that’s probably an hour and a half.”
    â€œGood. We went to Poulsbo last night to see a movie, and I
    got something for you.”
    â€œYou did?”
    â€œI’m bringing it over.”
    I felt myself turning red. It was different for me. Emily never made me feel like this before. Maybe I was weirded out .
    â€œTime to get off the phone,” Mom called from the kitchen.
    â€œUh. I got to hang up now, Em.”
    â€œI’ll be there in, like, ten minutes.”
    â€œOkay.”
    *   *   *
    Bosten knew something was up when he saw me getting my shoes and jacket on in the mudroom.
    â€œCan I wear your cap?” I asked.
    â€œWhere                    are you                      going?”
    â€œMeeting Emily at the road.”
    â€œCan          I               come, too?”
    â€œUh. Yeah.”
    I didn’t want him to. I felt like if he saw us together, he’d know we did something bad.
    But what could I do? By the time I was out the door, he had already returned with his cap and started following after me down the gravel drive.
    â€œDon’t                 you want this?” Bosten trotted up behind me, waving his DWHS ball cap.
    â€œOh.”
    I brushed my hand over my hair; resisted the urge to sniff it and see if the smell of Emily’s conditioner was still there. I knew it couldn’t be, anyway. Everything in our house smelled like cigarettes.
    â€œThanks,” I said.
    â€œIs           something                   wrong?” Bosten asked.
    â€œNo. Em said she got something for me.”
    Bosten said,                “Oh.”
    But the way he said “oh” wasn’t just an “oh.” It was a whole soliloquy.
    So I said, “Yeah.”
    We saw her coming through the gate by where the mailboxes sat, crooked on rotten posts. I noticed Bosten slowed down, dropped a few feet back, when we got closer.
    She was holding something black in her hand.
    I said, “Hi.”
    â€œHey.             Hey, Bosten.”
    I turned around and saw Bosten nodded at her.
    â€œWell,            here,” she said. “I got this for you. I know you guys                           probably got