Free Thorn Abbey by Nancy Ohlin Page B

green lawn, and the air is thick with the aroma of roasting corn. A couple of ancient rock-concert-size speakersblast a Journey song that I recognize from my mom’s aerobics playlist. Wow, Yoonie was right about Headmaster Henle’s taste in music. Some of the seniors are playing Ultimate Frisbee in the waning twilight.
    I scan the rest of the crowd. I recognize a bunch of girls from Kerrith. There is no sign of Devon, though—or Priscilla or Elinor or Yoonie, for that matter. They drove into town after lunch to shop for the lounge project, and they must not be back yet. Maybe, if I’m lucky, they’ll miss the Corn Roast altogether, and I won’t have to deal with Devon’s weirdness about me being with Max.
    Or Max’s weirdness about her. I wish I could ask him about it, but I’m afraid it will put him in a bad mood. He seems distant and distracted as it is.
    “Soooo. Where’s Franklin?” I ask.
    “What?” His face is pensive, like he’s mulling over a problem. “Yeah, he texted me. I think he’s coming by later.”
    “Oh. So what’s next? Do we sit around the fire and eat corn?”
    Max nods. “That pretty much covers it. It’s always the same drill. Last year, it rained the whole time, so the bonfire was a fail.”
    Last year. I picture him and Becca holding hands and kissing in the rain. Sneaking away for a drunk make-out session. No, no, don’t think about that.
    “Tess?” He looks at me with a puzzled expression. “Everything okay?”
    “I’m fine. Let’s get some food.”
    We wind our way toward the catering tables, where we grab paper plates and utensils and start down the line. The boy in front of us turns around. He’s wearing a T-shirt that says BOLLINGER FOR PRESIDENT .
    “Hey, guys! Welcome! Ben Bollinger,” he says, grabbing my hand and shaking it vigorously.
    “Hi, Ben. I’m Tess.”
    “Nice to meet you, Tess. Listen, Max. I know Ayesha’s already bugged you, but I wanted to make my pitch. You and me. Junior-class president and vice president.”
    “Thanks, I’m flattered. But my schedule’s pretty full,” Max says apologetically.
    “Yeah, I thought you’d say that. But definitely next year, okay? With your family’s reputation, we’d be unbeatable.”
    Max’s family’s reputation. Devon may have been drunk, but she wasn’t kidding about the De Villierses. The other day, I overhead someone in my American History class saying that Max’s great-grandfather used to be secretary of state.
    I’ve never known anyone from such a prominent family. The closest I ever came was probably Tiffani Camacho, whose cousin was on American Idol .
    At the first station, Mila Kunis is in charge of ladling out coleslaw. When she spots Max and me, she gives us a big smile. “Hi, you two! Tess, I like your sweater! Where did you get it?” she chirps.
    Mila Kunis knows my name? And she likes my sweater? This is the first time she has spoken to me, ever. “It was a Christmas present,” I say, which sounds better than “a deep clearance bin at Boscov’s.”
    “Cool. That color’s really pretty on you.”
    “Thanks.” I’m surprised and pleased that Mila Kunis recognized and complimented me. Huh. Maybe I’m not the school outcast after all.
    Except, one of the mean blond Kerrith girls is at the next station, serving the hot dogs. I can feel my shoulders tense up. Is she going to say something nasty?
    But shockingly, she smiles at me too. “Do you want a real hot dog or one of these vomitacious vegan ones? Oops, sorry, you’re not a vegan, are you?” she says in a friendly voice.
    “Um, no. I’ll take a real one.”
    “Excellent choice. My parents are vegans. I like to bring home burgers from the BK Lounge, just to mess with them.”
    The BK Lounge?
    “Burger King,” Max whispers in my ear. He must have seen the confusion on my face.
    “Thanks,” I whisper back gratefully.
    “Guys, a little consideration? We’re starving back here,” a girl in the back of the line