Lurlene McDaniel - Letting Go of Lisa

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From every ending comes a new beginning.

Published by Laurel-Leaf
an imprint of Random House Childrens Books
a division of Random House, Inc.
New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright 2006 by Lurlene McDaniel
All rights reserved.

Laurel-Leaf and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

www.randomhouse.com/teens
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools,
visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

RL: 6.0

ISBN: 978-0-440-23868-3
eBook ISBN: 978-0-307-53744-7

v3.1_r1

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

Revelation 22:12 (NIV)

T he motorcycle cut in front of Nathan Malone just as he was pulling into the high school parking lot. He slammed on the brakes and blasted the cars horn, but the rider on the back, dressed in black leather and a streamlined helmet, flashed him an obscene gesture as the cycles driver sped off with a roar. Nathan took deep breaths. Another car snaked past him and a voice yelled, Hey, buddy, park it someplace else! Youre jamming traffic.

Startled, Nathan put his foot on the gas and shot forward, almost running over three girls crossing the lot. They shouted at him. He stomped the brake and clamped the wheel, his palms clammy, and inched forward, searching for the parking space assigned to him in his Crestwater welcome packet. His friend Skeet had warned him that the first day was gridlock. Maybe Skeet was used to the bedlam, but Nathan wasnt. Years of homeschooling hadnt prepared him to spend his senior year in one of Atlantas biggest public high schools, but here he wasready or not. He shouldnt let the two idiots on the cycle determine his mood.

He found the space, marked by a bright yellow painted number, and pulled in, careful to park between the lines. His car was newwell, not new new, but new to him. His parents had given him the keys just a few nights before, part of his seventeenth birthday gift, but also a way to make up for shoving him into a public school from the relative shelter of his homeschooling experience. Not that Nathan minded. Hed wanted to be a regular kid for a long time. And being regular meant attending public school. A cesspool, my man, Skeet had always said. Not for the faint of heart.

Nathan shouldered his book bag and headed off for the entrance and the common area, where Skeet had sworn hed be waiting for him. Hed better be! Nathan already felt tight as a string on his guitar, and that was before the incident with the cycle.

The halls were packed and so noisy Nathan wanted to cover his ears. How did people think, much less study, in this decibel purgatory? One good thing about his home classroomit was quiet. Or it had been quiet until the twins, Abby and Audrey, were born in July and his mother realized in a panic that she couldnt juggle two babies and teach Nathans senior class load. Not with college looming. At first hed felt euphoric, like hed been let out of a cage, but now, in the teeming hallways, he felt dwarfed and lost. What every other kid in the school knew as normal, he saw as extraordinary.

Nate! Skeets voice cut through the noise. Over here!

Nathan worked his way over to Skeet, who was sitting on a short wall. The wall surrounded a monolith of concrete and brass: Crestwaters mascot, a rising dolphin balancing on its tail. Hey, man.

Find your space?

Yeah. But not before a cycle almost plowed me down. Arent they illegal on school property?

Not so. His brow puckered. Who was driving?

How should I know? There were two of them. The rider on the back gave me the finger when I honked.

Skeet grinned. Odds are it was Lisa Lindstrom.

A girl? Most of the girls Nathan knew were homeschooled like him, younger, all giggly and silly, and they didnt ride cycles and flash rude hand gestures.

Was the cycle black and silver with a big red heart painted on the tank?

I didnt take that close a look. It almost creamed me. I was just trying to get out of the way.

Not a guy in the school who wouldnt give up his car speakers to get a tumble from Lisa. Shes a knockouttransferred in as a junior last January. Keeps to herself, though. I call her a heartache on a Harley. Skeet pressed his hand over his heart.

She sounds like a conceited pain.

No she just doesnt give a damn. I know, hard to believe, but she seems to be totally unimpressed by Crestwaters movers and shakers. Shes my hero. Skeet leaned closer. Shes the one who stood up Rod Stewart for the junior-senior last year.

Nathan put the pieces together. Rod Roddy Stewart, no relation to the rocker, was a football legend at Crestwater and on track for a full ride to Georgia and the Bulldogs after he graduated. Skeet had told Nathan all about the big dump the day after last years prom because it was all over the school and because Skeet didnt like Roddy. That was the girl?

Way the story goes, Rod went to pick her up and she was long goneoff to a frat party, according to her mother, who said, Gee, youre the second boy tonight who showed up to take her to the prom. Skeet cackled gleefully. Seems she jilted some other poor punk too. We never did know who. Man, Roddy was steamed. I mean, who stands up Mr. Im Too Sexy for My Shorts and lives to tell about it?

Well, she still doesnt sound like the kind of girl a guy gets all warm and fuzzy over.