Read Online Geography Club by Brent Hartinger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brent Hartinger
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“Thanks,” I said to Trish, standing in the glare of a streetlight that totally blotted out the moon. “I really had a good time.”
“Yeah,” Trish said, sidling closer. “Me too.”
Then we kissed. Her face was in shadow, so our mouths kind of missed at first. But then we made contact. Her lips were warm and squishy, like overcooked asparagus, and it freaked me out a little. But at least there were no tongues involved.
Trish pulled away first. “Call me?” she said.
“Definitely,” I said. You weren’t actually supposed to tell the truth here, were you?
Then she was running up to the front porch, crossing paths with Gunnar, who was on his way back to the car.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t the best date in the world. But at least this stupid thing with Trish was over and done with.
Or so I thought.
That Monday morning, I walked into school and was greeted by the ring of echoing voices, the smell of perfume and soda pop, and the sight of people standing around in tight little clusters reading copies of the Goodkind Gazette.
Wait a minute, I thought. Something about this picture was wrong. No one ever read the school newspaper.
What was worse, all around me, people weren’t just talking; they were buzzing with excitement. Here it was before eight o’clock on a Monday morning, and people were acting like it was afternoon on the last day before Christmas vacation. But I couldn’t make out anything that anyone was saying—it was just one long, reverberating rumble.
I glanced at the closest group of people. Sure enough, two of them were reading an article on the front page of the Goodkind Gazette. Both of them looked absolutely enraptured by what they were reading, like it revealed both the secrets of the universe and the answers to this afternoon’s biology test. Everyone else must have already read the article, because they were all yammering on, sometimes making these wild gestures to the newspaper itself.
I still couldn’t make out what was being said, but suddenly, for no reason I can explain, one word happened to rise above the din.
“Banana,” said Tad Brickle.
People were excited about an article in the Goodkind Gazette about a banana? This was getting stranger and stranger.
I drifted closer to the closest cluster of people and tried to read the headline of the article over the shoulder of Brittany Vanderberg. But just then she turned the page to where the article continued on page two.
Then I overheard another word.
“Toles,” said Monica Melnacht.
Toles? I thought. As in Ms. Toles, the health teacher? For some reason, this made me nervous.
I turned for a nearby newspaper dispenser, but it was empty. That was a first too.
This is just stupid, I thought. I should just walk up and ask someone what all the commotion is about.
That’s when I heard Zack Ward say the word “gay.”
Gay? People were reading about something “gay” in the school newspaper? I didn’t like the sound of that at all!
I hurried to Min’s locker, hoping she could fill me in.
“What’s going on?” I said when I found her.
She glanced around us in the hallway, seeing if the coast was clear. “We’re screwed,” she said under her breath. “That’s what’s going on.”
“Who is?”
“The Geography Club.” I hadn’t thought I could get any more tense, but I did just then.
“What?” I said. “ Why? ”
She pulled a copy of the newspaper from her locker and presented it to me like a teacher handing me a pop quiz. “Read it,” she said.
I didn’t want to read it. I wanted Min to tell me what was going on!
“Just tell me!” I said.
“Ms. Toles gave an interview to the school paper.”
So what if the health teacher gave an interview to the Goodkind Gazette ? What could that possibly have to do with the Geography Club?
“So?” I said. I sounded impatient, but the truth was, now I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know.
“So read it!” Now Min sounded impatient too.
I
“Thanks,” I said to Trish, standing in the glare of a streetlight that totally blotted out the moon. “I really had a good time.”
“Yeah,” Trish said, sidling closer. “Me too.”
Then we kissed. Her face was in shadow, so our mouths kind of missed at first. But then we made contact. Her lips were warm and squishy, like overcooked asparagus, and it freaked me out a little. But at least there were no tongues involved.
Trish pulled away first. “Call me?” she said.
“Definitely,” I said. You weren’t actually supposed to tell the truth here, were you?
Then she was running up to the front porch, crossing paths with Gunnar, who was on his way back to the car.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t the best date in the world. But at least this stupid thing with Trish was over and done with.
Or so I thought.
That Monday morning, I walked into school and was greeted by the ring of echoing voices, the smell of perfume and soda pop, and the sight of people standing around in tight little clusters reading copies of the Goodkind Gazette.
Wait a minute, I thought. Something about this picture was wrong. No one ever read the school newspaper.
What was worse, all around me, people weren’t just talking; they were buzzing with excitement. Here it was before eight o’clock on a Monday morning, and people were acting like it was afternoon on the last day before Christmas vacation. But I couldn’t make out anything that anyone was saying—it was just one long, reverberating rumble.
I glanced at the closest group of people. Sure enough, two of them were reading an article on the front page of the Goodkind Gazette. Both of them looked absolutely enraptured by what they were reading, like it revealed both the secrets of the universe and the answers to this afternoon’s biology test. Everyone else must have already read the article, because they were all yammering on, sometimes making these wild gestures to the newspaper itself.
I still couldn’t make out what was being said, but suddenly, for no reason I can explain, one word happened to rise above the din.
“Banana,” said Tad Brickle.
People were excited about an article in the Goodkind Gazette about a banana? This was getting stranger and stranger.
I drifted closer to the closest cluster of people and tried to read the headline of the article over the shoulder of Brittany Vanderberg. But just then she turned the page to where the article continued on page two.
Then I overheard another word.
“Toles,” said Monica Melnacht.
Toles? I thought. As in Ms. Toles, the health teacher? For some reason, this made me nervous.
I turned for a nearby newspaper dispenser, but it was empty. That was a first too.
This is just stupid, I thought. I should just walk up and ask someone what all the commotion is about.
That’s when I heard Zack Ward say the word “gay.”
Gay? People were reading about something “gay” in the school newspaper? I didn’t like the sound of that at all!
I hurried to Min’s locker, hoping she could fill me in.
“What’s going on?” I said when I found her.
She glanced around us in the hallway, seeing if the coast was clear. “We’re screwed,” she said under her breath. “That’s what’s going on.”
“Who is?”
“The Geography Club.” I hadn’t thought I could get any more tense, but I did just then.
“What?” I said. “ Why? ”
She pulled a copy of the newspaper from her locker and presented it to me like a teacher handing me a pop quiz. “Read it,” she said.
I didn’t want to read it. I wanted Min to tell me what was going on!
“Just tell me!” I said.
“Ms. Toles gave an interview to the school paper.”
So what if the health teacher gave an interview to the Goodkind Gazette ? What could that possibly have to do with the Geography Club?
“So?” I said. I sounded impatient, but the truth was, now I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know.
“So read it!” Now Min sounded impatient too.
I
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