"I mean, for God's sake, just look at them," Monica said as they lay on a hill out of the sight line
of their cross-country coach, watching the cheerleaders practice on the football field. "How can
anyone's boobs be that perky without surgery?"
"It's the autumn chill in the air," H said, ironically quoting something Mr. Edson, their English
teacher, had said that morning. "Makes everything firm up."
Monica slapped him upside the head.
"Ow!" H protested. "What'd you do that for? You're the one who said to look at them!"
"I didn't mean you."
It was the second week of their senior year, early September. By mutual agreement, they'd taken
a well-known shortcut on their running route, hiding in almost plain sight near the practice finish
line, and giving themselves twenty minutes before they were expected back. Remarkably for this
time of year, the sun was shining in a clear blue sky, though the wind coming in off the ocean gave
the air an extra snap.
Days like this you could almost call beautiful, Seth thought.
"The chill firms them up?" Gudmund asked H, stretching back on the grass incline. "Is that why
you have a permanent boner all autumn?"
"All year more like it," Monica mumbled.
"As long as you kids stay safe," Gudmund said.
Monica gave him a look. "Like I'm going to have his baby."
"Hey!" H said. "That's not nice."
"There they go again," Seth said.
They all looked back over the field, and sure enough, Boswell High's own blonde and brunette
terrors were back at it. Though that wasn't fair, Seth thought. Most of them were actually pretty
nice. They all watched, though, as Chiara Leithauser, one of the less nice ones, left the pack and
started walking back toward the main school building.
"Where's she going?" Gudmund said.
"Forgot to give Principal Marshall his after-school hand job," H sniggered.
"Oh, please," Monica said. "Chiara's serious about that chastity shit. Won't even let Blake
Woodrow put his hands on her bra."
Gudmund shrugged. "Good for her."
Monica laughed, but when he didn't reply, she scanned his face closely. "You mean that, don't
you?"
Gudmund shrugged again. "At least she's got principles. What's wrong with that? Somebody's
got to counterbalance all us amoral types."
"That's what we can tell Coach Goodall when he catches us," Seth said as they caught sight of
the cross-country coach across the field, looking annoyed at his watch, wondering why his senior
runners were quite so overdue from their first long training run.
"There's nothing wrong with anyone having principles," Monica said. "But there is something
wrong with using them to beat four kinds of crap out of everybody else."
"They're only her opinions," Gudmund said. "You don't have to listen to them."
Monica's mouth opened to reply, and then it dropped open farther in amused astonishment.
Monica's mouth opened to reply, and then it dropped open farther in amused astonishment.
"You like her."
Gudmund put on an ostentatiously innocent face.
"You do!" Monica nearly shouted. "Jesus, Gudmund, that's like loving a concentration-camp
guard!"
"I'm not saying I like her, don't be stupid," Gudmund said. "I'm just saying I could get her."
Seth looked over at him.
"Get her?" H asked. "You mean like –" and he made a thrusting motion with his hips that
caused a horrified silence. "What?" he said as they all stared at him.
Monica shook her head. "Not in a million years. It's like she's got a limited lifetime supply of
fun, and she isn't going to waste any of it on high school."
"Those are the easiest ones to get," Gudmund said. "All their morals are balanced way up high.
One push knocks 'em right over."
Monica shook her head again, smiling at him, like she always did. "The shit you talk."
"You know what we should do?" H said, suddenly enthusiastic. "We should have like a bet,
right? Where Gudmund has to sleep with Chiara Leithauser by like, spring break or something?
'Cause you could totally do it, bro. Show her where the wild things are."
"From someone who can't even find a map to the wild things," Monica said.
"Hey!" H said to her, his voice low and aggrieved. "What did I say about telling them our
business?"
Monica huffed and turned her back.
"What do you think, Sethy?" Gudmund said, trying to steer the moment away from an argument.
"Think I should take that bet? Go for Chiara Leithauser?"
"What," Seth said, "and then secretly find out she's got a heart of gold and actually fall in love
with her and then she dumps you when she finds out about the bet but you prove yourself to her by
standing outside her house in the rain playing her your special song and on prom night you share
a dance that reminds not just the school but the entire wounded world what love really means?"
He stopped because they were all looking at him.
"Damn, Seth," Monica said admiringly. "'The entire wounded world.' I'm putting that in my
next paper for Edson."
Seth crossed his arms. "I'm just saying a bet over Gudmund having sex with Chiara Leithauser
sounds like some piece of shit teenage movie none of us would watch in a million years."
"Truer words, never spoken," Gudmund said, standing up from the grass. "She doesn't deserve
me, anyway."
"You're right," Monica said. "Dating the best-looking, richest, and most popular guy in school
must be punishment enough."
H made a scoffing sound. "Blake Woodrow isn't that good-looking."
They all stared at him again. "I am so sick of you guys doing that!" he said. "Not everything I
say is stupid. Blake Woodrow has a girl's haircut and the forehead of a caveman."
There was another pause before Monica nodded. "Yeah, okay, I'll give you that."
"And Gudmund could totally get her if he wanted," H said, getting up to join the rest of them.
"Thanks, man," Gudmund said. "From you that's almost a compliment."
"But you're not even going to try?" H said hopefully.
Monica hit him again. "That's enough. I may hate her, but she's not a prostitute. Quit talking
Monica hit him again. "That's enough. I may hate her, but she's not a prostitute. Quit talking
about her like she's someone you can just take off a shelf." She looked at Gudmund. "Even you."
"I wasn't serious, you feminist," Gudmund said, smiling. "I only said it was possible. If I
wanted to."
Monica stuck her tongue out at him before setting off across the field and onto the track, H on
her heels, both of them trying to look as if they'd been running for the past half hour.
Gudmund glanced at Seth, who was watching him seriously. "You don't think I could?"
"Monica would be so jealous she'd probably choke to death," Seth said as they started running
back across the field, too.
Gudmund shook his head. "Nah, Monica and I are like brother and sister."
"You flirt that much with your sister? She wants you so bad, it's like she's got a permanent
toothache."
"Jeez, are you sure she's the jealous one, Sethy?" Gudmund punched Seth playfully on the
shoulder. "Homo," he said.
But he said it with a grin.
They ran toward the now-shouting Coach Goodall and –