Read Online Fire With Fire by Jenny Han, Siobhan Vivian - Free Book Online

forward on his crutches. He’s too busy growling into his
cell phone, his forehead wrinkled and tense. He has the phone
cradled between his ear and his shoulder, since he can’t use his
hands, not with his crutches.
Only one thing has improved—his big white leg cast is off.
Now he’s got a black Velcro thing. A soft cast, I think it’s called.
I end up following him. Not on purpose. He’s just walking in
the same general direction that I am. Even though I give him a
ton of space, I can still hear what he’s saying into his cell phone.
“I keep telling the dude I can do more , Ren,” he says passionately. “Yeah, well, if he can’t get with our program today,
he’s fired. I’ll take over my PT my damn self. I’m almost a week
behind where I should be according to our schedule.”
Reeve abruptly stops at the chain-link fence, the one that
runs along the football field. Practice is underway. The team
stands in a big circle at midfield, stretching out together, clapping on beat every time they switch positions. Alex is in the
center. I wonder if he’s the captain now.
None of the guys notice Reeve watching them. They don’t
see him standing there, and they don’t notice when he walks
away.
Don’t feel bad for him, I tell myself. Don’t feel anything for
him.
Reeve slips off the path and heads toward the pool building. There’s a guy standing near the door, an older man in a full
windbreaker suit. I don’t think he’s a teacher here; I’ve never
seen him before. He’s got a clipboard with him and a duffel bag
slung over his shoulder.
“Reeve. Hey, pal. You ready to get to work?”
After clapping Reeve on the back, the man tries to get the
door for Reeve, hold it open for him. Reeve gives the guy a
cold hard stare. “I’m always ready to work. Are you?”
    The yearbook committee turns out to be a pretty popular
club, especially for girls. I guess because if you’re on yearbook
committee, you can make sure no bad photos of you get put
in. That is a bonus. The library is filled with people sitting in
small clusters, working on their tasks. Some are sorting through
pictures in envelopes; some are working through page layouts;
some are contemplating cover treatments and working out the
costs per person.
    There are a few boys here too. I get the sense that they’re
more into the technology aspect, because they’ve already
claimed spots at the computers. The girls mostly stand behind
them and point at where they want things to go.
    I see the girls from chemistry, sharing a chair with frowns
already on their faces, sorting through piles of color pictures.
They point and laugh at some of them, making gross-out faces
and snickering to each other. “Let’s put in this one of Carrie
sneezing,” one girl says. I sort of hope these girls do quit.
They’re so mean. If I’m lucky enough to work on any collages,
I’ll make sure not to let any unflattering photos in of anyone.
Even people I don’t like.
    It’s intimidating, though, to see that everyone already has a
set job. What’s a newbie like me supposed to do? I lean against
one of the library shelves near the back of the room and try
to think of things I can say to the adviser, Mr. Kraus, when he
arrives and the meeting officially gets started. I should probably introduce myself, maybe tell him about my collage experience, if I can even call it that. I wish I knew how to use some
of the fancy school-owned digital cameras that kids are passing
around the room, so I could help out with the photography,
too. Maybe he’ll offer lessons on that sort of thing.
    A few more people trickle into the library after me. One of
them is Nadia Cho. She’s in her cheerleading practice clothes,
and she hangs out near the door, like she won’t be able to stay
long. She has a big envelope with her. Probably full of pictures
of her friends.
    I like Nadia. She looks sweet, like a young Lillia, but with
bigger eyes and