Read Online Mission (Un)Popular by Anna Humphrey - Free Book Online Page B

actual e-kisses? And what if I didn’t XX him back? Would he get all offended? It seemed safest not to risk it.
    â€œYeah, well. Couldn’t be worse than an entire summer of babysitting,” I said.
    â€œYou sure?” He sucked in, shaking his head. “I went lawn bowling and ate cereal with fiber. But at least I got a sweet tan.” He held out his arm so we could compare, but he was joking, obviously—making fun of the popular girls who have an unofficial tan competition every summer. Andrew is black—one of the only black kids in our old school, and definitely the darkest kid in our grade.
    â€œI thought you looked different,” I teased, squinting at him. But in actual fact, he kind of did. Like most of the other guys, he seemed to have grown a foot in two months, and his normally curly hair was cropped short, making him look older.
    I was going to take a serious moment to make some excuse about not having time to answer his last e-mail, but before I could, the bell rang and distracted me. Andrew and I joined the pack of kids heading toward the door.
    â€œI can’t believe Erika is late on the first day,” he said, whistling through his teeth as we started across the lawn. “She’s gonna get it.”
    â€œShe’s not late.…She’s not coming.” And then I told him the whole sad story of what happened on Friday.
    â€œDamn,” he said when I’d finished. “That sucks.”
    â€œI know,” I said. “I’m so depressed.”
    â€œDon’t be,” he answered. “You can still see her after school, right? Plus, it means you get to spend more time with your amazing friend Andrew.”
    I almost said, “Great!” but realized he might take it the wrong way. Instead I said, “You wish!” and punched him in the arm.
    As we filed through the main doors, two teachers directed the seventh graders to the old gym and the eighth graders to the new gym. I shuffled along like a prisoner. I’d been inside five seconds, and the yellow cinder-block walls and smell of disinfectant had already confirmed the hopelessness of the situation.
    Everyone found a spot on the floor, and the principal, Mrs. Vandanhoover, walked to the front of the room and tried to look imposing, which must have been hard for her. She was even shorter than some of the kids. She held up her hand for silence. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” she shouted. “And welcome to Manning Middle School. Most of you know each other from Colonel Darling Elementary,” she went on, “but there are several students joining you from other schools—and even other cities. I urge you to look around for these students and make them feel at home. We’re a big family here at Manning, after all.” She paused as if she was giving us time to spot the new students, and a few people did look around. “We’ve got plenty of ground to cover, so I’m going to get straight into announcements, then I’ll call out the seventh grade class lists.”
    That was what we were really waiting for, of course. Normally I would have been clutching Erika’s hand, and we’d both be putting every fiber of our beings into willing our names to be on the same list, but things were so different now.
    Mrs. Vandanhoover started a long speech about the school’s anti-bullying policy and how there would be “zero tolerance” for violence and weapons. It was predictable stuff, so instead of listening, I started looking for Gorgeous George.
    It only took me a few seconds to find him. He was sitting close to the back. I have his wardrobe memorized, so I could tell he was wearing a new shirt. His hair was shorter, but thankfully not too short. And he was leaning back, with both of his palms flat on the floor behind him. I could have stared at him all day, but I only let myself look for a second.
    Vandanhoover was going on about the