Read Online Henry Franks by Peter Adam Salomon - Free Book Online

seats.
    As Henry walked down the aisle, Bobby was sitting in Justine’s seat, his arm resting on the back of the bench. The bus slowly filled up and Henry briefly tried to lower his window but gave up without success.
    â€œJustine,” Bobby called down the aisle. “I saved a seat for you.”
    Henry looked up; even from a distance he could see her eyes widen as she saw Bobby sitting in her seat. She stopped for a moment as he patted the plastic cushion, then shook her head.
    â€œBobby, you’re incorrigible,” she said. “That’s Latin for ‘incapable of being corrected.’”
    â€œIs that a good thing?” he asked, still patting the seat.
    Behind her, a couple of students were backing up in the aisle.
    â€œNo,” she said, a bright smile taking some, but not much, of the sting out of the word. “It’s not.” She took a step down the aisle and stopped at Henry’s seat. She looked back at Bobby and then turned to Henry.
    â€œI sweat more just looking at you,” she said. “Move over.”
    Henry slid to the side as Justine put down a protective notebook paper barrier between plastic and skin.
    â€œThanks,” she said.
    Bobby swung around in his seat, leaning over toward Justine. “You’d rather sit with Scarface?” he asked.
    Henry tried to squeeze even further into the window, but Justine simply laughed. “That’s the best you could come up with, Bobby? You might want to work on that. And, if you need to ask, I was raised to believe that the choice of where to sit was mine.”
    Bobby looked from Justine to Henry, then grabbed his backpack and walked to the back of the bus with the other football players. Justine waved goodbye but he didn’t see it. As the diesel engine coughed to life, she giggled.
    â€œScarface?” she asked, looking at Henry. “I’m sorry, he’s a jerk sometimes, but he’s not as rude as he tries to pretend to be. He does have a slight problem with persistence, though.”
    Henry shrugged, and then brushed the hair out of his face. “Is that a bad thing?”
    â€œI’m not allowed to date,” Justine said. “Not football players, not pre-med students at Coastal College, not twenty-something teachers or the guy that sells pretzels at the mall.” She laughed. “Well, I’m exaggerating about most of that, but still.” She smiled. “My parents have made it perfectly clear that I’m not to date until I’m a senior, and then only in groups, if I keep my grades up. So persistence isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Though, even if I could date, it wouldn’t be Bobby Dixon. But it is rather pointless, don’t you think?”
    He opened his mouth but nothing came out, so he shrugged again and simply closed his mouth.
    â€œSo,” she said, “you never really told me about your dream from last night.”
    â€œWhat?” he asked, still trying to absorb everything else she’d said. Too many words in too little time, leading to such a random statement.
    â€œYou looked terrible all day, didn’t even say hi when you shuffled past me in the halls,” she said. “Not that you noticed I was there. Don’t you walk into walls staring at the ground all day?”
    â€œI don’t … ”
    â€œI can’t really picture you talking with a shrink,” Justine added with a smile. “You don’t say much.”
    â€œIs it my turn to talk yet?”
    She laughed, then nodded. “Your turn.”
    â€œNo one-word answers,” he said. “It’s on a sign in her office.”
    â€œThat’s a start, at least.”
    â€œI waved.”
    â€œWhen?”
    The blue straps of her tank top were wide enough to hide her bra, while leaving long stretches of tan skin exposed up her neck and down her shoulders. Beaded with sweat, she glistened in the sunlight. Henry ran his fingers