“What do you think they’r e doing tonight?” Trevor asked, taking a long
swig of hot chocolate.
“Looks like they’re having ice cream,” I said. David went in for a kiss. I
looked away .
“Yeah, but after,” Todd said as he took a seat on one of the stools. “Like,
what do Norms do on weekends?”
Hammond and I exchanged a glance.
“They have parties and shit, right?” Hammond said.
“Of course. It’ s not like they’re aliens or something,” I said.
“I wonder what a Norm party’s like,” Trevor said, narrowing his eyes and
sticking his chin out. “Y ou think they have chips and dips?”
“Dude. W e should totally crash one,” T odd said.
“Tonight?” Hammond asked.
“No. Not tonight. Tonight we are city-bound!” Trevor announce d. He and
Todd slapped hands above their heads, dumping out half their drinks in the
process.
As we got up to walk out, I glanced back at Ally and David again. They
were sitting on a bench in the freezing cold, cuddled against each other,
eating their ice cream. I felt a surge of jealousy and suddenly wanted to go
over there and pummel Dorkus Drake to within an inch of his life. And just
like that, I didn’t want to go into the city. I wanted to crash a Norm party
instead. If I could just guarantee that Ally would be there. And that David
Drake wouldn’ t.
“Yes! That’ s game!”
I threw my arms above my head, holding the air hockey paddle aloft. The
crowd cheered and lifted their plastic cups. Across the table, David hung his
head, shaking it in what could only be wonder at my air hockey prowess.
“Two out of three?” he asked.
I laughed and twirled the paddle in my palm. “I don’t know. Are you sure
you can take it?”
David blushed but laughed. One of the best things about him was his
ability to take a joke. I loved that I didn’t have to walk on eggshells with
him. A lot of people wouldn’ t have enjoyed being trash-talk ed by their
girlfriends in front of a party full of people. But David had a sense of
humor.
“Come on, Ryan. You’ve gotta give the kid a chance to redeem himself,”
Marshall Moss said, sliding out of the crowd and slinging one of his long,
lanky arms around my shoulder. Marshall was the center of the boys’
basketball team and one of the nicer guys I’d re-met since coming back to
Orchard Hill. Not to mention cute with his warm brown eyes, dark skin, and
lopsided smile. He lived on the Norm side of town, but in one of the bigger
houses near the library .
“Well, it is your party,” I said, pushing him lightly away with my elbow.
“Guess I have to do as you say.” I looked across at David. “Wanna take the
first shot?”
“I think I have that right as the loser,” he r eplied. He yanked the puck out
of the slot and placed it on the table as I clicked my scoreke ep er down to
zero-zero. “Here we go.”
I held my paddle on the table, feeling the tickle of the air under my arm. I
was totally on my game tonight. David was going down. Poor dude had no
idea.
Behind him I saw a couple of pairs of legs coming down the basement
stairs. The second David hit the puck, the first person arrived in the