head. “She’s probably resting. And besides, there’s still a chance she doesn’t know it was you. If I were you, I’d wait until social studies class tomorrow and see if she acts different or anything.”
“I don’t know …”
“Trust me.”
“You
had
to say that. Every time you say that, something goes wrong.”
Dunc ignored him. “Are you doing your homework over here?”
“I don’t have any homework.”
“What about the essay Mrs. Wormwood gave us on the family? We’re supposed to do five pages.”
Amos waved his hand. “Oh, that. I’ll do it during passing period tomorrow.”
“You can’t do a five-page paper in five minutes—while you’re walking.”
“Why not?”
Dunc sighed. “Come on. I’ll help you write your paper.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Where’s your homework?” Dunc pedaled his bike close to Amos so he could hear.
“It’s in my back pocket.”
“You put a five-page report in your back pocket?”
Amos nodded. “It was a tight fit, but I kept folding and stuffing until it all went in.” He stood on the pedals to show Dunc the bulge in his back pocket.
“Did it ever occur to you that you might get a better grade if your report wasn’t all crumpled up?”
Amos shook his head. “You don’t understand teachers. You have to try and think like them. If you were a teacher and youcame to a paper with no wrinkles, in perfect condition, with my name on it, what would you think?”
“That someone else did it.”
“Bingo!”
Dunc coasted for a few feet. “Still, you should make an effort …”
Amos wasn’t listening. They were passing Melissa’s house. He always rode by slowly in hopes that he might catch a glimpse of her.
They were almost to the end of the block when he saw her. She was standing at the window. Her long golden hair was blowing in the wind.
“Look, Dunc! There she is.”
“Watch where you’re going, Amos! You nearly ran into me.”
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“I guess. If you don’t count that ugly purple bruise and the bandage on her forehead.” Dunc pedaled up ahead. “We’re going to be late for school if you don’t come on.”
Amos was about to turn and follow, when the most unthinkable thing in the whole world happened.
Melissa looked down from the window—and waved.
Amos was stunned. He stared until he lost control of his bike and rammed a fire hydrant. When Dunc came back for him, Amos was on the ground wearing the front wheel of his bicycle around his neck.
“Are you okay?”
“She loves me!”
Dunc pulled the wheel off of Amos’s head and put it back on the front of the bike. He stood on the frame and tried to straighten it. “I don’t know if you can ride it. You may have to push it to school.” He looked at Amos. “Can you walk?”
“Walk? I can fly! Melissa waved at me.”
Dunc glanced at Melissa’s house. He didn’t see anyone. He looked back at Amos, who was sitting on the ground with an absurd grin on his face. “You’re imagining things again.”
“No, really.” Amos pointed at the house. “She stood at that window, looked right at me, and waved.”
Dunc studied the window. The curtains were flapping in the breeze. “I’m sure it wasan optical illusion. Come on, we’re going to miss first period.”
Amos stood and took one last look at the house. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them. No one was at the window. “It seemed real. I saw her dimples and everything.”
Amos threw his leg over his bike and tried to pedal. Only one pedal worked, the front tire flopped as it went around, and from the back, his bike looked like it was traveling sideways.
Dunc rode more slowly so Amos could keep up. “It’s funny how the mind can play tricks on you. I read a book once where this guy went without eating for two weeks, and he thought he saw George Washington crossing the Delaware.”
Amos frowned. “But it seemed so real! She looked right at me.”
“Optical