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“All Star”–Smash Mouth

“Guess what?” I say, sliding into my seat on Thursday. I can’t wait to spill the good news, so I blurt it out before Daria can even guess. “I’m un-grounded!”

“Oh my god,” she shrieks with a flurry of clapping and bouncing in her seat like she’s the one who just got the best news she’s had all year.

“Come over here and bounce like that on my cock,” Colin calls from across the room.

“Oh my god, did you hear that?” she hisses, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Everyone in the room heard that,” I say, cringing in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” she whispers. “That means he was watching me!”

I think about pointing out that she just shrieked loud enough to wake up half the bleary-eyed people in the room, but I let it go. She was so happy for me it would be a dick move not to be happy for her when she gets what she wants, which is obviously Colin’s attention.

“Oh my god, this is going to be epic,” she says, seizing my hand. “This is, like, the best week of the whole year, and now you get to do all the things with us!”

“I thought Homecoming was the best week.”

“Well, I mean, duh,” she says. “Oh, and prom! But that goes without saying. This is the best week so far this calendar year. How’s that?”

“Dare I ask why?”

“Well, there’s the basketball game tomorrow night, obvi. And then on Saturday, Colin’s band is playing! And of course next weekend is Valentines. And now you finally can go out with Todd, like you’ve been dying to.”

“Yeah, totally,” I say, though I wouldn’t say I’ve been dying to do it. More like meaning to cross it off my to-do list.

I’m relieved for any little bit of freedom, though. Even when, at the game, I realize all my friends are sitting on the bench courtside, waiting to jump up during long timeouts and cheer. That leaves me sitting there like some weirdo loner, ala Nate Swift. I might as well have made a sign that says “Imposter” to hold up for all the world to see.

I’m relieved when Isabel Finnegan comes up the bleachers and sits with me just before the toss-up.

“Chase isn’t in the starting lineup?” I ask, surprised. I’m used to him being a god in all things.

“Oh, he never starts,” Isabel says with the air of an expert. “He’s not really a baller, y’know. Not like my brothers.”

“He’s definitely the star of the football field,” I say.

“Yeah, but football players aren’tballers,” she says, looking at me like I’m missing more than a few brain cells.

Oliver has a good six inches on the guy from the other team, and I could swear he levitates to swat the ball easily to Faulkner. The thunder of ten players—and a couple referees—sprinting for the goal echoes around the gym, along with the cheers of the small crowd.

Oliver gets the ball with a pretty clear shot, but he whips it over into the corner to Greg, who immediately sinks a three.

I cheer, but Isabel doesn’t even seem to notice the game. “So, you’re pretty close with the team, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say, watching the ball make its way down the floor in the other direction.

“You’re Lindsey’s bestie, though, right?”

A swell of pride rises in me, and I straighten on the bench. Even though I know Lindsey didn’t tell her that—she always reserves that title for Elaine—the thought that an outsider might see it that way makes me want to break into a happy dance in the middle of the stands.

On the floor, Greg gets a rebound and takes the ball the full length of the floor and lays it up while everyone else is still four steps behind. I cheer with everyone else, thankful for an excuse to smile and yell to get out all my happy energy.

Spontaneous happy dance averted.