Free Just Your Average Princess by Kristina Springer Page B

Dilly.
    â€œHey, Jamie,” she says. “I was just coming to look for you. Ms. Grenovich was worried that you were passed out from blood loss somewhere between the gym and the nurse’s office.”
    I try to grin. “Nah, I’m fine. It already stopped bleeding.” I wave my finger at her.
    Dilly frowns. “You look upset.”
    â€œOh, I’ll be fine.” I shrug.
    â€œDo you want to talk? We can break out of here and go sit at the Burger King,” she suggests. Burger King is the only fast-food restaurant in all of Average so it’s not like we’d exactly be inconspicuous sitting there in the middle of the school day.
    â€œWe’d better not,” I say. “We’re in our gym clothes.” I point to our matching yellow tees and maroon shorts. “We’d totally stick out and I don’t want to get in trouble. Let’s go back to class.”
    We return to gym and join the class in playing floor hockey. Floor hockey always gets a little aggressive—it’s like a free pass to chuck people you don’t like in the ankle with a wooden stick. Not that I think anyone would try to hit me, but I like to stay out of the cross fire so I keep some distance between me and the puck. Dilly and I hover near the goal, talking. I tell her how Milan is only getting worse and that I don’t know how I’ll survive the remaining four weeks of pumpkin season living with her.
    â€œWell,” Dilly says after I finish telling her about Milan and Danny’s lunch date, “I don’t know your cousin, but I do know you, and you rock.”
    My cheeks pink at the compliment.
    â€œShe must have some serious issues to be harassing you like this,” Dilly continues. “I wouldn’t take it personally. And this thing with Danny? If he’s smart he’ll avoid the chick with the issues. I think guys can sense that kind of thing. Let her go on making a fool of herself and she’ll eventually get a clue.” Dilly seems so sure.
    â€œReally? I mean, you think Danny might avoid her?” I ask hopefully.
    â€œOh sure,” she concludes, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, I’m a pretty good judge of people. I think I’ll stop at the Patch and pick out my pumpkin today, and, you know, check out the situation.”
    My eyes widen. “You’re not going to say anything, are you?”
    â€œOf course not. Just picking out my pumpkin.” She grins.
    â€œIn that case, I’ll give you a ride over after school,” I offer.
    â€œDeal.”
    *   *   *
    The last bell rings and I see Dilly leaning on the passenger door of my car in the student parking lot.
    â€œReady to pick out your pumpkin?” I ask when I reach her.
    â€œDefinitely,” she says. “This year I’m thinking of going for a big, round, fat one. At least a forty-pounder.”
    â€œSounds good,” I reply. I unlock the car and we get in.
    We park near my house and walk to the Patch, heading for Sara’s caramel apple stand first. I have to say, Dilly has made me feel a lot better about the situation. I mean, it kinda makes sense that there is something wrong with Milan and not with me.
    â€œHey, Sara,” I say when we reach the stand.
    â€œHey, Jamie. Hi, Dilly,” she replies. Sara and Dilly have met a couple of times before but we haven’t actually ever hung out together.
    â€œWhat’re you working on?” I ask Sara, pointing to the paper on the table under her forearm.
    She looks at the pen in her hand and the paper, surprised. “Oh, this? Nothing.” She quickly folds the paper and jams it into her back pocket.
    â€œCome on, tell me,” I plead. “What is it?”
    Sara shakes her head. “You’ll laugh.”
    â€œNo, I won’t,” I insist. “Promise.”
    â€œWell…” Sara pulls the paper back out and smooths