Shug by Jenny Han Read Free Book Online Page B

I yell, “You barbarian! You idiot!” He holds the hairband high above my head. Jack Connelly, the only boy in our class who is taller than me.
    My hair is swinging around wildly, and I feel like a cat whose tail has been cut off. “Give it back!” I scream. For some reason I feel like I could cry.
    Alongside me, Elaine says, “Give it back, Jack. You’re so immature.”
    He ignores both of us and throws the hairband to Hugh, who grins and throws it to Mark. Mark hesitates, and I think, please don’t. Not you too. Then he hands me the hairband. Jack groans and says nastily, “Why don’t you give her a kiss good night while you’re at it, Findley.”
    Mark flushes and says, “Why don’t you kiss my ass?”
    I’m so happy, I feel like my heart will burst right open. Gathering my hair with one hand, I pull it back into a tight ponytail and hop back onto my bike.
    Then we go home, us on our bikes and the boys behind us. As we ride, Elaine tells me that my hair looks pretty down, and I should wear it like that more often.

chapter 9
    On the last day of summer, the day before school starts, Mark and I ride our bikes until it’s dark. Dusk is settling over Clementon, and we just keep riding. Up Sandy Hill Lane and around the block.
    I’m afraid of what happens tomorrow. Will he ring my doorbell at 7:30 and walk with me to the bus stop, the way he always does? Will he still share his tangerine with me at lunch?
    “Mark?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Nothin’.”
    The crickets are hoopin’ and hollerin’ for all they’re worth, and fireflies light up the streets like it’s Christmas.On a night like this it’s hard to believe everything won’t be this way forever—the two of us on our bikes going round and round. On a night like this, you just want to reach out and freeze time and make it stay like this forever.
    “It’s past seven. I’d better go in,” Mark says as we ride past Sherilyn’s house.
    “Once more around the block?”
    “All right.”
    We go once more, and then once more after that. The way he’s pedaling so slow, I know he doesn’t want to say good night any more than I do, ’cause for some reason good night feels too much like good-bye. So neither of us say anything. We just wave and pedal off in different directions.
    It’s a long time before I fall asleep.

chapter 10
    It is the first day of school.
    Elaine and I debated on the phone for over two hours last night, going back and forth over what to wear. We recognized the importance of starting our junior high lives on just the right note, with just the right look. Elaine finally settled on a hot pink camisole and her best black miniskirt. I decided to swipe Celia’s cotton halter top and wear my new back-to-school jeans.
    My hair is down.
    We spent a long time deciding whether or not to wear makeup (lip gloss, yes; eye shadow, no), as we didn’t want to appear too excited about entering the seventh grade. Nothing is worse than looking like you are trying too hard.I have always wondered why that is. Trying hard is supposed to be a good thing. It’s in my nature to try hard, to strive to be the best. So how do you know when you’ve crossed that invisible line of what is acceptable and what is uncool?
    At 7:25 I sit at the kitchen table and wait for the doorbell to ring, and it never does. At 7:33 I walk to the bus stop alone. When I get there, Elaine is standing with Mairi and Hadley, and Sherilyn is hovering nearby. Her mother has done it again—Sherilyn is wearing a beaded halter top with tight black pants, and her hair is crimped. I can tell she’s uncomfortable by the way she keeps pulling the top down so her stomach doesn’t show.
    Mark stands with the other boys, away from us. He waves, but he doesn’t come over. I want to yell, hey, thanks for ditching me this morning, but instead I just wave back.
    The morning is warm, and thankfully, it isn’t humid. But it’s hot enough to make me wish I’d worn shorts instead of my new jeans.