Maps by Nash Summers Read Free Book Online

pointed toward Maps, Lane started to speak. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”
    Maps instantly slammed the window closed, latched it up tight, and drew back the curtains. Lane was obviously crazy—absolutely bonkers, actually. Still, Maps peeked out through the curtain to watch Lane climb back up the side of his house and plop himself into his room.
    Maps only watched because it was the polite thing to do.
    Really.
     

Chapter Five
     
    “So, this number is the injured jerk, right?” Lane looked over at Maps. Maps wanted nothing more than to go play in traffic on the freeway. Tutoring Lane was hard. No, wait. Running up three flights of stairs backwards without looking behind you was hard. Helping Lane was impossible.
    “It’s not an injured jerk,” Maps said. “It’s an integer .”
    Lane blinked at Maps.
    “In-teh-jur,” Maps went on. “It means a whole number.”
    “As opposed to what?”
    “A fraction. Any number without a decimal is an integer.”
    “Isn’t it kind of dumb to have a word specifically for a whole number? Why not just call it a whole number?”
    Maps sighed, his forehead falling to the tabletop. “I don’t know, Lane. I didn’t make the rules.”
    “I’m getting on your nerves, aren’t I?” Lane asked sheepishly.
    “What?” Maps lifted his head. “You’re not.”
    He was.
    But it wasn’t an annoyance at Lane so much as him for not asking for help with the basics years ago.
    “I’m never going to get this,” Lane said in disbelief.
    “Hey,” Maps replied, “yes you will. We’ve been working at this for weeks and you’re getting better already, right? I mean, you did better on your latest test, didn’t you?”
    A coy smile splayed itself out on Lane’s face. “Yeah.”
    “Do you want to go over problem six again?”
    “No. I was thinking we could do something fun. You know, take a break.”
    “Uh.” Maps knew his idea of fun was much different from Lane’s. Maps currently had an experiment brewing in the upstairs bathtub that he was excited to go check on, but he doubted that Lane wanted to see what different effects water had on different kinds of dyed potatoes.
    “I was thinking we could play catch.” Lane’s gapped teeth made an appearance.
    “It’s cold outside. And there’s snow.”
    “Not that much. Come on, Maps. Just put on a jacket and some boots. You’ll be fine.”
    Against Maps’ better judgment, he agreed.
    Lane sprinted over to his house to throw on some more weather appropriate apparel, while Maps rooted through the front closest to find his warmest winter boots.
    For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what happened to the right boot of one pair, and the left of another. But they still technically worked, so Maps pulled them up on his feet, tucking his skinny jeans into the bottoms. He had a warm, puffy winter jacket that was probably a size too big for him, and a bright pink scarf with gold pom-poms on the ends. Benji had given it to Maps last Christmas as a joke, but the joke ended up being at his best friend’s expense because Maps absolutely adored the hideous scarf, and not in the ironic sense.
    Maps stood at the back door and waited. Lane eventually swung the door open, letting in a gust of cold air with him. He pulled maps outside with him, after eyeballing Maps’ scarf for a few seconds past what Maps thought was polite. Handing off one of the baseball gloves to Maps, Lane jogged away to the other end of the yard.
    Lane looked like a pro with his winter bomber jacket and baseball cap on. Maps thought the baseball cap was silly because obviously it wasn’t providing Lane any extra warmth. At least it looked good. Maps looked down at his stupid scarf—that he loved—and his mismatched boots. If he were a different sort of person, he might be embarrassed. Good thing he wasn’t a different sort of person.
    “Okay, I’ll toss it underhand, real gentle,” Lane hollered.
    Suddenly, like a meteor sent from above,