Bounce by Natasha Friend

to mention more civilized and a better dresser. He’s someone who understands not to use an entire bottle of cologne in one sitting.
    Next to Linus, these guys are babies. I can’t believe I wasted my makeover on them.
    Over by the DJ booth, Andrea and her friends are crowded around, and I know exactly what they’re requesting.
    Can you, like, play something slow?
    And the DJ nods and fiddles with his headphones and presses a few buttons, and something slow and cheesy comes on and every air molecule in the gym shifts.
    You don’t just feel the energy mutation; you can see it.
    Slow song…
    One by one, the boys put down their video games.
    Slow song…
    They remove their fingers from their noses and wipe them on their jeans and begin the painful shuffle across the gym floor to where the girls are waiting.
    I don’t know if anyone’s planning to ask me to dance, and I don’t care. Right now I have bigger things to worry about. Like which girl Cleanser Boy is walking toward.
    I can’t look.
    I make a beeline for the pinball machine, which has been deserted.
    I yank the spring loader and watch as my little silver ball flies up the chute.
    Whizzzz!
    I don’t see Ajax walk over to a clump of girls.
    Ping!
    A clump of girls who are definitely not wearing tennis dresses.
    Ping! Ping!
    Or braids.
    Ping! Ping! Ping!
    I don’t see him stop in front of Maya Glassman, who is on the soccer team and pretty—in a freckly, girl-next-door sort of way—but definitely not in Andrea’s league.
    Ping! Ping! Pingpingping!
    My ball bounces around like crazy, and I am flipping the little flippers, trying desperately to keep it from falling into the ditch. So I don’t see Ajax lead Maya out onto the dance floor and put his hands on her shoulders and steer her around in the slow box that seems to be the signature dance move of all eighth-grade boys.
    Pingpingpingpingping!…Pingpingpingpingping!
    Ten thousand points! Bonus round!
    For the first time ever, I understand why Mackey is addictedto video games. Even though pinball isn’t exactly a video game, and there aren’t any dragons involved, I get it.
    As long as you’re playing, you can pretend that whatever’s going on in the world around you…isn’t.
    I’m in the hall, getting a drink at the water fountain, when I find out what happened on the dance floor.
    â€œMaya Glassman? What the hell? She’s not even hot.” The voice is Andrea’s. There’s no mistaking it.
    I am frozen in place, water dripping down my chin, while the It Girls around the corner get louder.
    â€œYou’re way hotter than Maya Glassman, Drey.”
    â€œWay hotter.”
    â€œWay.”
    â€œI can’t believe he slipped her the tongue. ”
    â€œRight there in front of, like, the entire universe. ”
    â€œThat lying little wench.”
    Andrea again. And this time I know she’s not talking about Maya Glassman.
    Let the slaughter begin.
    On a bench outside the Thorne School, I call Jules.
    One thing I can be thankful for tonight: Thalia gave us a cell phone, for emergencies.
    Well, this is an emergency.
    â€œMrs. Anthony?” I say. “It’s Evyn.”
    â€œEvyn Linney. What a nice surprise. We miss you, sweetheart. How’s everything? How’s Boston?”
    Normally, I would take the time to chitchat. But tonight is not normal. Tonight, I need my best friend.
    â€œIt’s okay. Can I talk to Jules?”
    â€œOh, sweetie, I’m sorry. She’s not home. She’s at a party.”
    â€œA party?”
    â€œMmmhmm. At Jordan Meyerhoff’s house. You remember Jordan. From the football team?”
    â€œUh-huh,” I say.
    Mrs. Anthony makes a cooing noise. “Such a handsome young man. And so polite. He seems to have taken quite a shine to Julia…”
    I think about telling her the truth about Jordan Meyerhoff—that he’s the biggest tool