she realized.
The thought sent a small, cold shiver down her back.
Sparks took a final sip of the coffee, pushed the cup away, and dropped a dollar onto the counter.
Is he going to say something? Chelsea wondered. Is he going to ask me out again?
Iâll say yes, Sparks, she thought, trying to send brain waves from her mind to his. Iâll say yes.
He pushed himself up, his big biceps bulging. Standing, he flashed her a shy smile. âThanks.â
âWelcome,â she said, reaching for the cup.
âSee you,â he said. His sneakers moved silently over the linoleum floor. He left without looking back. The door closed quietly behind him.
Chelseaâs shoulders slumped forward. She sighed, disappointed, and dropped the coffee cup into the dirty dish tray.
Her mind whirred. She felt terribly mixed up. As she made one final inspection, turning out the lights as she went, she realized she was disappointed. And relieved.
A few minutes later she stepped outside into a cold, clear night. She carefully locked the front door and pulled the metal grate across it, as she had seen her father do. Then she hurried to the hospital to see how he was doing.
A few blocks from the coffee shop, Sparks pulled open the door to his third-floor walkup apartment and stepped into the cramped living room without turning on any lights. Closing the door left him in near darkness; only pale yellow light drifted in through the window from a streetlight just below.
Pacing the small, hot room, he slammed a fist repeatedly into his open palm. After a few minutes he uttered an angry cry, continuing to pace like an agitated zoo animal.
Why didnât I ask her out? he asked himself.
Why didnât I do it? I wanted to. I
planned
to.
Why did I just sit there like a jerk, sipping that bitter coffee?
We were all alone. All alone.
Why did I blow this opportunity?
Whatâs
wrong
with me?
Furious with himself, he jerked the phone off the table, pulled the cord out of the wall, and heaved the phone with all his might against the window.
The glass shattered noisily. But he couldnât hear it over the angry roar in his brain.
chapter 8
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T he next day after school Chelsea slammed her locker shut and checked down the crowded, noisy corridor for Nina. It took her a while to spot her friend. A stray dog, a large German shepherd frantically waving its tail, had wandered into the school. A crowd had gathered around it, blocking the hallway. The dog was barking loudly, the sound echoing off the walls.
Whatâs the big deal about a dog? Chelsea wondered. Everyoneâs acting as if itâs the most exciting thing that ever happened!
A couple of kids were leading it to the principalâs office, not an easy task since the dog had no collar. A crowd of kids followed behind it.
Finally Chelsea spotted Nina standing at her locker, her blue wool coat in her hands, staring back at her.
âHeyâNina!â Chelsea made her way through the still-buzzing hall. She had decided to ask her friendâs advice about Sparks and Will.
Mainly she wanted to ask, How can I get one of them to ask me out?
But to her surprise, Ninaâs expression was glum, her eyes red rimmed as if sheâd been crying. âHeyâwhatâs wrong?â Chelsea asked, slinging her backpack onto her other shoulder.
âItâs that stupid Doug,â Nina said angrily. She slammed her locker door shut, pushing it so hard the door bounced back open.
âWhatâs with Doug?â Chelsea asked.
âI saw him at lunch,â Nina replied unhappily, âtalking with Suki Thomas.â
âI donât know her,â Chelsea said, turning her eyes up the hall where the big barking dog was fleeing the group of kids chasing after him. âBut whatâs wrong with him talking to someone?â
âItâs the
way
he was talking,â Nina said, slamming her locker door again. This time it stayed shut.
Chelsea