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“Really?”
“Really.”
“I could teach you.”
“I’d be too embarrassed.”
Brianna shrugged. “It’s not like anyone is going to laugh at you.”
“Yes, they would.”
Brianna shook her head. At normal speed. “No way. Everyone is hoping you’ll fix the phones and the internet and all. Everyone likes you. Well, not exactly likes, but everyone hopes you’ll do it.”
“I told you I fixed the phones already,” Jack said.
Brianna’s eyes narrowed. “Jack-O, watch what you say about that. It’s supposed to be a secret, right?” Then she shifted focus to someone just behind Jack’s shoulder. “What did you hear?”
Jack twisted to see the shaved-head kid shrugging. “What? I didn’t hear anything.”
That voice. Jack knew that voice.
“That’s right you didn’t hear anything,” Brianna said pointedly. “And you better not repeat what you didn’t hear.”
He knew that voice.
He stared at the kid with the voice.
And suddenly, he saw.
“So come dance with me,” Brianna said, tugging at Jack’s arm.
He pulled away. “I uh…I have to go,” he said, unable to tear his gaze away from the shaved-head “boy.”
“No one will laugh at you,” Brianna pleaded.
But Jack just shook off her hand and fled toward the door.
“Okay, fine, forget you,” Brianna yelled. “Jerk. Computer Jerk.” Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, she said, “I guess he’s scared of girls.”
SEVENTEEN
22 HOURS
DIANA FOLLOWED JACK from the McClub. It was a relief to get away from Brianna and Dekka. Both girls knew Diana well. Neither had any reason to like her.
Fortunately, Dekka had eyes only for Brianna, and Brianna was focused on Jack. There had been a terrifying moment when Brianna had spoken directly to Diana, but she’d quickly looked down at the ground and Brianna had not recognized her.
Jack was moving, ignoring Albert’s polite “Good night,” walking quickly away from the club. Not quite running but looking as if he wanted to.
She caught up with him. “Jack.”
He stopped. He looked around, fearful that someone might overhear. “Diana?” he whispered.
“Mmmm. Yep. Like the new hairdo?” She rubbed her hand over her brush cut.
For a boy with the strength of ten grown men, he looked awfully nervous.
“What are you doing here?”
