Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Okay, everyone. Find your seats. It’s time to get started,” Mrs. Young called out.
Ramsey handed my pencil back and swept his hand out in front of him in a grand gesture for me to go first. I rolled my eyes as I started the grueling journey through the crowded classroom on a set of crutches.
Swear to God, I almost choked on the pheromones wafting off hair-twirling Tiffany Martin and her lip-gloss-loving girl gang as they drank in the new kid in class. But if Ramsey noticed them at all, he never let on. He walked beside me, grinning like the fool he so obviously was.
Mrs. Young started reviewing the class rules as I got settled at my desk and I paid attention for no other reason than to avoid his scrutinizing gaze. When she got to the one about candy and gum, I leveled him with a hard stare. He laughed, not even trying to hide it.
I got busy on the stack of work the teacher had left on the corner of our desks while Ramsey scribbled stick figure pirates. Not that I was watching out of the corner of my eye or anything. I was on my third math worksheet and Ramsey had made it up to a cannon and stick men walking the plank when he whispered, “Hey, Sparrow.”
I clenched my teeth and cut my gaze at him. “What?”
Mischief danced in his eyes as he boldly blew a bubble. “Since we’re partners and all, you think I can play Tetris on your watch?”
Tetris. The idiot wanted to play Tetris on my Timex.
How was this happening?
I closed my eyes and dreamed of better days.
Two weeks, twenty-one hours, and six minutes to be exact.
I’d never forget the hollowness I felt that first day as I made my way to the bus with my book bag awkwardly weighing me down. By the time three o’clock had rolled around, I’d been ready to collapse. My leg was killing me, my armpits were on fire from the crutches chafing them, and my arms were shaking from the constant struggle to hold myself up in order to keep my leg and my armpits from hurting worse.
Going home to an empty house was going to hurt the most.
A year ago, my mom had been waiting for me, my special first-day-of-school treat of M&M Rice Krispies Treats on a plate and a proud smile on her face.
This year would be different. Forever would be different.
Ramsey had spent the day talking to me. No, seriously, the kid never stopped talking.
Or smiling.
Or chewing gum.
Or breathing.
It was overwhelming. And because it was Ramsey, it was infuriating too. I’d ignored him as best I could, but there was no avoiding him.
Just before lunch, I’d been called to the counselor’s office. I’d never been so excited to get away from a person in my life, even if it did mean discussing my feelings since my mother’s death. As I left, Ramsey waved, his arm over his head, his hand looking like it had taken up a secondary career as a windshield wiper. It was as if he’d thought I was leaving for good and not a half hour.
It had only been a day, but being his only friend had to end. And fast.
“Move,” I barked at Tiffany Martin as she waited at the door to the bus, desperately waiting to catch Ramsey’s attention.
I’d all but sprinted out of the class before he’d had the chance to finish packing his bag. Regardless of what Mrs. Young thought, I didn’t need help.
“Excuse me?” she snapped back.
“I said, move.”
Her pink lips curled with attitude. “What is your problem?”
“Move,” he rumbled as he stepped up behind me.
I rolled my eyes at his knight-in-shining-armor routine.
“Oh, hey, Ramsey,” she purred.
Rolling my shoulders forward, I faked a gag.
“Hey, Tiffany,” he replied absently, too busy yanking my left crutch from under me to give her his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I snapped, falling to the side.
He caught me with a hand on my bicep and slid my book bag off my arm. Then he repeated the process on the other side. “There,” he said with a satisfied smirk as he slung it over his free shoulder. “Maybe next time you can wait on me instead of trying to break a world record for speed.”
I righted my crutches and shot him a fiery glare. “Maybe next time you can keep your dang hands to yourself.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not.”
If looks could kill, Ramsey would have been on his ninth life for the day. Fortunately for him, and really unfortunately for me, he was wearing a force field that made him immune to my rage.
I hated him, but I wished I knew where to get one of those force fields too.
By the time I performed the herculean task of climbing the three steps with Ramsey trying to help my efforts by shoving me from behind, the bus was full, leaving only one seat open—the dreaded bench of Loserville directly behind the driver. And because I had clearly insulted God at some point over my short ten years, it was the same day Mrs. Perkins decided to give us assigned bus seats for the rest of the year.