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flipped(英文版)-第3章

小说: flipped(英文版) 字数: 每页4000字

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said; anyway。 At the time I didn't think there was    
anything better than kicking a soccer ball around; especially not the likes of laundry or dishes    
or vacuuming; but my mother didn't agree。 And the    
danger of being home alone with her was that she'd recruit me to help her wash or dust or    
vacuum; and she wouldn't tolerate the dribbling of a    
soccer ball around the house as I moved from chore to chore。    
To play it safe; I waited outside for weeks; just in case the new neighbors moved in early。    
Literally; it was weeks。 I entertained myself by playing    
soccer with our dog; Champ。 Mostly he'd just block because a dog can't exactly kick and    
score; but once in a while he'd dribble with his nose。 The    
scent of a ball must overwhelm a dog; though; because Champ would eventually try to    
chomp it; then lose the ball to me。    
When the Loskis' moving van finally arrived; everyone in my family was happy。 “Little    
Julianna” was finally going to have a playmate。    
My mother; being the truly sensible adult that she is; made me wait more than an hour    
before going over to meet him。 “Give them a chance to    
stretch their legs; Julianna;” she said。 “They'll want some time to adjust。” She wouldn't even    
let me watch from the yard。 “I know you; sweetheart。    
Somehow that ball will wind up in their yard and you'll just have to go retrieve it。”    
So I watched from the window; and every few minutes I'd ask; “Now?” and she'd say; “Give    
them a little while longer; would you?”    
Then the phone rang。 And the minute I was sure she was good and preoccupied; I tugged on    
her sleeve and asked; “Now?”    
She nodded and whispered; “Okay; but take it easy! I'll be over there in a minute。”    
I was too excited not to charge across the street; but I did try very hard to be civilized once I    
got to the moving van。 I stood outside looking in for a    
record…breaking length of time; which was hard because there he was! About halfway back!    
My new sure…to…be best friend; Bryce Loski。    
Bryce wasn't really doing much of anything。 He was more hanging back; watching his father    
move boxes onto the lift…gate。 I remember feeling    
sorry for Mr。 Loski because he looked worn out; moving boxes all by himself。 I also    
remember that he and Bryce were wearing matching turquoise    
polo shirts; which I thought was really cute。 Really nice。      
……… Page 8………   
When I couldn't stand it any longer; I called; “Hi!” into the van; which made Bryce jump; and    
then quick as a cricket; he started pushing a box like    
he'd been working all along。    
I could tell from the way Bryce was acting so guilty that he was supposed to be moving    
boxes; but he was sick of it。 He'd probably been moving    
things for days! It was easy to see that he needed a rest。 He needed some juice! Something。    
It was also easy to see that Mr。 Loski wasn't about to let him quit。 He was going to keep on    
moving boxes around until he collapsed; and by then    
Bryce might be dead。 Dead before he'd had the chance to move in!    
The tragedy of it catapulted me into the moving van。 I had to help! I had to save him!    
When I got to his side to help him shove a box forward; the poor boy was so exhausted that    
he just moved aside and let me take over。 Mr。 Loski    
didn't want me to help; but at least I saved Bryce。 I'd been in the moving van all of three    
minutes when his dad sent him off to help his mother unpack    
things inside the house。    
I chased Bryce up the walkway; and that's when everything changed。 You see; I caught up to    
him and grabbed his arm; trying to stop him so    
maybe we could play a little before he got trapped inside; and the next thing I know he's    
holding my hand; looking right into my eyes。    
My heart stopped。 It just stopped beating。 And for the first time in my life; I had that feeling。    
You know; like the world is moving all around you; all    
beneath you; all inside you; and you're floating。 Floating in midair。 And the only thing keeping    
you from drifting away is the other person's eyes。    
They're connected to yours by some invisible physical force; and they hold you fast while the    
rest of the world swirls and twirls and falls pletely    
away。    
I almost got my first kiss that day。 I'm sure of it。 But then his mother came out the front door    
and he was so embarrassed that his cheeks turned    
pletely red; and the next thing you know he's hiding in the bathroom。    
I was waiting for him to e out when his sister; Lyta; saw me in the hallway。 She    
seemed big and mature to me; and since she wanted to    
know what was going on; I told her a little bit about it。 I shouldn't have; though; because she    
wiggled the bathroom doorknob and started teasing    
Bryce something fierce。 “Hey; baby brother!” she called through the door。 “There's a hot    
chick out here waiting for you! Whatsa matter? Afraid she's    
got cooties?”    
It was so embarrassing! I yanked on her arm and told her to stop it; but she wouldn't; so    
finally I just left。    
I found my mother outside talking to Mrs。 Loski。 Mom had given her the beautiful lemon    
Bundt cake that was supposed to be our dessert that    
night。 The powdered sugar looked soft and white; and the cake was still warm; sending    
sweet lemon smells into the air。    
My mouth was watering just looking at it! But it was in Mrs。 Loski's hands; and I knew there    
was no getting it back。 All I could do was try to eat up    
the smells while I listened to the two of them discuss grocery stores and the weather forecast。    
After that Mom and I went home。 It was very strange。 I hadn't gotten to play with Bryce at all。    
All I knew was that his eyes were a dizzying blue; that    
he had a sister who was not to be trusted; and that he'd almost kissed me。    
I fell asleep that night thinking about the kiss that might have been。 What did a kiss feel like;    
anyway? Somehow I knew it wouldn't be like the one I    
got from Mom or Dad at bedtime。 The same species; maybe; but a radically different beast;    
to be sure。 Like a wolf and a whippet—only science    
would put them on the same tree。    
Looking back on the second grade; I like to think it was at least partly scientific curiosity that    
made me chase after that kiss; but to be honest; it      
……… Page 9………   
was probably more those blue eyes。 All through the second and third grades I couldn't seem    
to stop myself from following him; from sitting by him;    
from just wanting to be near him。    
By the fourth grade I'd learned to control myself。 The sight of him—the thought of him—still    
sent my heart humming; but my legs didn't actually    
chase after him anymore。 I just watched and thought and dreamed。    
Then in the fifth grade Shelly Stalls came into the picture。 Shelly Stalls is a ninny。 A whiny;    
gossipy; backstabbing ninny who says one thing to one    
person and the opposite to another。 Now that we're in junior high; she's the undisputed diva    
of drama; but even back in elementary school she knew    
how to put on a performance。 Especially when it came to P。E。 I never once saw her run laps    
or do calisthenics。 Instead; she would go into her    
“delicate” act; claiming her body would absolutely collapse from the strain if she ran or    
jumped or stretched。    
It worked。 Every year。 She'd bring in some note and be sure to swoon a little for the teacher    
the first few days of the year; after which she'd be    
excused from anything that required muscles。 She never even put up her own chair at the    
end of the day。 The only muscles she exercised regularly    
were the ones around her mouth; and those she worked out nonstop。 If there was an    
Olympic contest for talking; Shelly Stalls would sweep the    
event。 Well; she'd at least win the gold and silver— one medal for each side of her mouth。    
What bugged me about it was not the fact that she got out of P。E。—who'd want her on their    
team; anyway? What bugged me about it was that    
anyone who bothered to look would know that it wasn't asthma or weak ankles or her being    
“delicate” that was stopping her。 It was her hair。 She    
had mountains of it; twisted this way or that; clipped or beaded; braided or swirled。 Her    
ponytails rivaled the ones on carousel horses。 And on the    
days she let it all hang down; she'd sort of shimmy and cuddle inside it like it was a blanket;    
so that practically all you saw of her face was her nose。    
Good luck playing four…square with a blanket over your head。    
My solution to Shelly Stalls was to ignore her; which worked just dandy until about halfway    
through the fifth grade when I saw her holding hands    
with Bryce。    
My Bryce。 The one who was still embarrassed over holding my hand two days before the    
second grade。 The one who was still too shy to say    
much more than hello to me。    
The one who was still walking around with my first kiss。    
How could Shelly have wormed her hand into his? That pushy little princess had no business    
hanging on to him

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