[b]Aery Thomas[/b]
"I'd as soon never go to Mr. Jordan." She wrote. “A walk sounds lovely. Any idea where we’d go?” She grinned at him as she held the board up, already systematically packing away her tutoring books and her special math pencil with its extra cushy grip. She frowned, took the pencil out again, and the miniature notebook she used to talk when she was walking around. The whiteboard was a bit too large to comfortably hold, so she tucked it into her backpack. Then, smiling at Luke, she shouldered the backpack, wincing at how heavy it was. With all her tutoring books, of course it would be heavy. Still, it rather sucked to carry. She flipped the notepad open, wrote, “Before we go I’m going to drop my backpack in the Commons. It’s too heavy to carry around all over town.”
[hr]
[b]Miranda Jensen[/b]
“Oh, goodness.” She flushed even redder, nearly matching her hair in color, as the boy laughed. “I didn’t know. But I suppose I should be going, then.” Even though she’d only just got there, surely coping with her parents would be better than trying to talk to a boy who would laugh at her for an honest mistake.
She got up from the table, picking up her backpack again, wincing as her stiff, painful fingers closed around the strap of her backpack. Mr. Jordan had only ever hit her hands once before, and he’d been rather gentle. She’d have bruises there for a while, certainly. Hopefully it wouldn’t impede her playing too much, or she’d never hear the end of it from her parents, nor from her friends.
[i]Friends?[/i] Said the nasty voice in her mind. [i]What friends?[/i]
[i]Shut up![/i] She told her mind voice fiercely. [i]Just shut up and let me deal with this one thing at a time.[/i] And the voice laughed.
Realizing she was still standing there like an idiot, Miranda shook her head, turned on her heel, and walked quickly and purposefully out of the library.
[hr]
[b]Lilly Johnson[/b]
Lilly looked seriously at Teddy. “Whatever you do, don’t let them surround you.” She said. “Or Coach Anderson will have to dive in and fish you out and pump the water out of your lungs.” She gave a rueful smile, just the corner of her mouth turning up. “Happened to me in sixth grade. I scored three goals and I was going in for a fourth and half the guys on that team surrounded me and pushed me under and held me there until I inhaled so much water I thought I was going to die. Yeah, they kind of play dirty.” She grinned. “Just don’t get drowned and um…” She blushed. “Guard your you-know-whats, Rachel and Aly both tend to knee their male competition there when they’re wrestling for the ball. I’ll rescue you if it looks like they’re going to hurt you seriously, but you’ve got to learn to take choke-holds and hyperextended limbs and things. All part of the game.” The whistle blew. “Swimmers at the ready!” the coach called.