Straight Punch by Monique Polak Read Free Book Online Page A

lamppost, we had the park to ourselves. The cedar bushes made the air smell sweet and clean. I rested my head on Cyrus’s shoulder and looked up at the stars. There weren’t many in the sky that night, but the ones that were there were unusually bright.
    When Cyrus leaned forward and took the camera off his neck, I knew he was about to kiss me. Even so, I felt him keeping one eye on his equipment. Did he really think the homeless guy was going to grab it?
    My mood improved when I felt Cyrus’s lips brush against mine. Kissing Cyrus was like having an amazing conversation. He asked me questions with his kisses. I answered with mine.
    Eventually, though, we had to go back to the other kind of conversation.
    â€œTessa,” Cyrus whispered into my hair, “I don’t know about that school you’re going to…”
    I pulled away from him. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about my school. And you know who you sound like? Your parents. The school I go to”—I guess I wasn’t ready yet to call it my school —“has a name. New Directions. Sure, I’d rather be at Tyndale hanging out with you, but that’s not the way it is. I’m doing my best to get used to it, and you know what else? I could use a little support.”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Cyrus said, pulling me back toward him. “Calm down, will you? I’m just wondering—how many other kids at New Directions have brothers who got shot?”
    â€œI don’t know. I haven’t asked.”
    â€œWell, what are the other kids like?”
    I thought maybe if I answered Cyrus’s question, he’d understand why I didn’t want him calling New Directions that school . “Well, there’s another tagger. The one I told you about—the guy who draws these cool butterfly people. Pretty Boy. His real name’s Percy. There’re two other girls besides me: Jasmine—she’s Asian—and Di. She’s the one with the pit bull. Then there’s Whisky and Randy. The boxing teacher, Big Ron, has a thing for nicknames. Jabbin’ Jasmine, Lady Di, Randy Randy…”
    I could feel Cyrus’s shoulders tense up. “Randy Randy? As in horndog Randy? As in this guy’s a player?”
    â€œIt’s just a nickname.”
    â€œI don’t like it.”
    â€œYou don’t have to.”
    â€œHow do I know I can trust this Randy Randy?”
    â€œCut it out, Cyrus.”
    After that, neither of us said anything for a bit. We just sat looking at the stars. It was better than arguing.
    Cyrus removed his camera from the case. Then he took off the lens cap and inspected the lens. “Want to see the photos I shot at Mount Royal?” he asked.
    â€œSure.” Cyrus knew I couldn’t resist his photos.
    He hit the Display button, and I leaned in to look.
    â€œLove,” I said, and we both laughed. It was a photo of a tall bare tree perched on the edge of a narrow rocky cliff. “Most people would’ve walked by that tree without noticing it. But not you.”
    â€œThanks,” Cyrus said. “Wait till you see the next one.”
    The next one looked a lot like the last one. “How does this one make you feel?” Cyrus asked.
    â€œLonely.” It was a beautiful photograph, but it did make me feel lonely.
    â€œThat’s it.” Cyrus sounded pleased, as if I’d given the correct answer. “Me too. That was the feeling I was aiming for…What about this one?”
    We must have spent an hour looking at Cyrus’s photos, talking about how they made us feel. Sometimes I thought photography was Cyrus’s way of telling me things he couldn’t say in words.
    â€œTessa…” Cyrus began.
    I bristled. I could tell from the way he’d started his sentence by saying my name that he was about to make another annoying remark.
    â€œI know you’re trying to get used to New Directions,