his hands as if he were testing for rain. âShe probably does like me. Thanks, pal.â And he walked on, obviously feeling much better.
Behind him, Simon followed, feeling much worse. âWhat do I know,â he said, but his target was out of range.
Still, with all these ups and downs, he was not prepared for Thursday.
Thursday had been an ordinary school day, one of those days so boring that when his mother would ask him to tell her one thing that had happened, he would not be able to. He would have to make up something that had happened another day to satisfy her.
Not once had he caught Tony looking at Cybil or Cybil looking anywhere but at her papers or through her notebook, and he had been lulled into a feeling of warm security.
It was walking home, with Simon whistling happily under his breath, that the blow fell. Tony Angotti said, âCybil Ackerman does like me.â
Simon stumbled over a root. He looked up to see a smirk on Tonyâs face. âWhat?â He felt his cheeks begin to burn.
âCybil Ackerman does like me.â
âYesterday you said she didnât.â
âThat was yesterday.â Another smirk.
âBut what happened? I didnât see her even look at you. What makes you think she likes you?â
âShe must. Sheâs going to the movies with me.â
âWhat?â Simon stumbled again. âWhat? You asked Cybil to go to the movies with you?â
Tony nodded.
Simon kept staring at Tony. He could not believe it. He had known that sometime in the future all of them would be taking girls to movies and maybe even to dances, but that was years in the future. It was as unthinkable now as their joining the army.
A runner passed them. Simon heard the manâs rasping breath, felt a spray of sweat, heard the slap of shoes against the pavement.
Sometimes it seemed to Simon that the whole world was running, that someone had yelled, âFire!â and everybody had started running, with his father leading the pack. And he, like the prehistoric fish, couldnât take a step without plopping belly-down in the mire.
âThereâs just one catch,â Tony said.
âWhat?â
âShe wonât go unless you and Haywood come too.â
Simon stopped as abruptly as if he had run into a brick wall. âWhat?â
âYou and Haywood have to come to the movies with us.â Tony spoke as slowly and carefully as if he were speaking to someone with a concussion.
âWait a minute. Do you mean I would have a date with Harriet Haywood?â Simonâs voice was higher than he had ever heard it.
âWell, itâs not actually a date,â Tony explained. âWe arenât going to pay their way. I was very careful about that.â He touched his forehead. âI told them we would meet them inside, beyond the candy counter. Howâs that for planning? We wonât even have to buy them popcorn!â
âIâm not going to the movies with Harriet Haywood,â Simon said flatly.
âYou have to,â
âI donât.â
âBut I already set it up. I told Harriet you wanted to make up for overturning her in the play. You made a fool of her, Simon. I should think youâd want toââ
Simon kept shaking his head.
Tony sighed with disappointment. âThen Iâll have to get Bonfili.â
âWhat?â Simon looked up. Tonyâs face, honest and open, looked back at him with regret.
âHarriet said she would go with either you or Bonfili, and so since you wonât go ...â He shrugged.
Simon moaned beneath his breath. He put one hand to his forehead. It was one of those moments in a war, he decided, when the first inkling of failure comes, when that first sickening awareness that the war can be lost, that you can be defeated, comes and stays and grows. Grown men must tremble, he thought, deep inside them like volcanoes. He himself felt sick.
âIâll
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