8 Plus 1 by Robert Cormier Read Free Book Online Page B

this week’s test and a B
plus
last week,” he said.
    “How about Jane?” Julie asked round-eyed. Nobody had yet asked her for a date, and she lived vicariously, following Mike’s romances the way some housewives watch soap operas.
    “What’s Jane got to do with it?” Mike asked.
    “Well, with basketball practice and this picture-taking stuff, when are you going to see her?” Julie asked, in a mild state of shock.
    “Look, kid.” He always called her kid when he was annoyed with her. “Jane’s got her own life to lead. And anyway, I think a relationship needs room to breathe.”
    Julie had difficulty swallowing. “Boy, I never heard that one before.”
    Ellie came to the rescue: “Didn’t Gibran say, ‘Let there be spaces in your togetherness’?” With two teenage girls in the family,
The Prophet
is well-thumbed and much-quoted.
    Ellie and I were familiar with Mike’s pattern with girls, but in this case Julie had been the first to see it emerge. The process, however, is highly visible when his intentions become clear. Besides the new career in photography, Mike suddenly became very conscientious about homework. In addition, the basketball team became a possible entrant in the District Championship, which meant extra practice on weekends. “Can you imagine that, Jane? A chance to be the top team of all,” I heard him telling Jane as I went by the telephone. There had been a time when all their phone conversations had been intimate, when he’d snake the cord into his room and close thedoor. Now he didn’t mind standing in the front hallway in sight of anyone going by.
    “How’s Jane these days?” Julie asked, carefully casual at dinner that evening.
    “Great,” Mike answered. “Pass the potatoes, will you?”
    “I haven’t seen her around here lately,” Julie persisted.
    “We’re going to the movies tonight,” Mike said.
    “Big deal,” Julie snickered.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mike asked.
    But nobody answered. Everyone was busy eating, although I noticed that Mike didn’t finish the steak that he usually devours, and he passed up dessert.
    “What movie are you going to see?” Julie asked.
    “I don’t know,” he said morosely, toying with his food. Ellie shot Julie a quick glance that said, Drop the subject.
    Mike was still morose when he stalked into the house from the movie. He was early, which was unusual. Julie fluttered down the stairway, anticipating his return. “Mike …”
    He held up his hand like a traffic cop, but she pressed on. “Did you and Jane have a good time?”
    “I had a rotten time,” he said.
    “What happened?”
    “Hey, Julie, lay off, will you?” he said.
    Surprised at the anguish in his voice, I interrupted, reminding Julie that it was past her bedtime for a school night. She ascended the stairs with reluctant steps, muttering something about missing all the drama.
    There was not much drama, really. Ellie hadgone to bed early with a headache, and I had a data report to complete, and Mike banged around the kitchen, making the usual noise that accompanies his late-evening sandwich productions. After a while he emerged, carrying a sandwich in one hand and a quart of milk in the other. He sat down on the floor in the same Buddha-like pose Jane had assumed.
    He took a bite of the sandwich and chewed without appetite: the condemned prisoner having his last meal.
    “Know what’s the matter with girls, Dad?”
    “What?”
    “They get on your nerves. Like Julie—poking her nose in everybody’s business. And Jane. She’s just great, but …”
    “But what?” I asked, laying down the pencil.
    “I don’t know. Like, she combs her hair about a million times a day. Every time I turn around she’s running a comb through her hair. And she’s the kind of a girl that, if a song is playing on the radio, she sings along with it. And you can’t really hear the song.”
    “She seems like a sweet girl,” I offered.
    “She is,” Mike