Foes & Cons by Carrie Aarons (i am malala young readers edition .txt) 📗

six-thirty class cabinet meeting tomorrow and then proceed to do so for the rest of the year. Just like I’ve done for the past three years, and Nate has been present for every meeting.

We met freshman year, when we were trying to decide whether we’d run against each other for president. Then I realized I had no shot against Nate, a naturally charismatic extrovert, and I backed down. It’s not as if we don’t run things like a team anyway and being second in command actually frees me up to pass some of the things I want to in student government without the scrutiny. Nate can take the heat, while I don’t even want the thought of a burn.

I get another round of strange looks as we walk down the hall, and I automatically bristle.

“That’s what happens when you get insanely hot and toned over the summer, honey.” Nate whistles low in my ear.

I swat at him. “Shut up.”

“It’s true. If I played for that side, I might go after you now.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I duck out of his embrace.

“If you played for my side, that would solve all of my problems. We’d date, because we were meant to be, and I’d never have to worry again.”

“But alas, the female breasts do nothing for me.” He pouts as if this makes him sad at all.

“What are you saying about breasts?” Laura falls into step with us.

Nate points at mine. “I was just saying how good those babies look.”

Laura snorts, and we all stop at her locker to let her put her books away for the day. The final bell rung just moments ago, and the halls are mobbed. There are younger students rushing to get to their buses before they miss them, athletes half-dressed on the way to their locker rooms, and teachers yelling at kids for kissing or goofing off or just generally being kids.

“They do look particularly perky this year. I think you’re finally becoming a woman.” She gives me a look like my sprouting curves make her proud.

“Can you both stop?” I blush tremendously.

If it wasn’t for these two, despite their incessant teasing, I would never have made it this far into high school. Don’t get me wrong, every day wasn’t a tour through hell. I’m one of those nerds who actually likes school and excels in my classes, and I love my spot in student government. There are a few other surface friends I have, and it’s not like I’m being left off the list of people’s birthday parties. It’s just that ever since my falling out with Sawyer, I don’t really feel like I belong in Chester. I don’t know my place anymore, and I’m looking forward to college to try to figure that out.

“All right, fine. I have to run to practice, but I’ll text you later. We’re still buddy watching The Challenge, right?” Laura points at me.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know I have a huge Johnny Bananas crush.” I give her moon eyes, because I do.

“I’m Team Wes until I die, so I have no idea how you like that asshat. See you later, bitches.” She pulls her field hockey stick out of her locker and jets off to practice.

“Jocks.” Nate rolls his eyes. “You headed downtown?”

I nod. “You know me too well. Yep, off to have my annual first day dinner with Dad at the office.”

“You need a ride?” he asks.

I pull my keys out of my backpack. “Nope, got the license right before school started. Haiti wasn’t keeping me from the American roads.”

It’s a running joke between my friends that I was never going to get my license, because I just kept pushing it off and bumming rides. But after coming home from my volunteer work, I knew I needed to be even more independent. Dad promised me my pick of whatever car I wanted if I passed the test, and I knew how lucky I was. But when you are the only child to a single dad and you’re as close as I am to mine, we celebrate life’s milestones hard.

Nate and I walk out to the parking lot together, hug goodbye, and promise to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow morning. Then it’s twenty minutes to downtown Chester, which is really just a very long street of local shops, businesses, and restaurants bookended by fast-food chains and a Target.

The bell over the door rings as I walk into my father’s studio on Main Street. He and Thomas Roarke, Sawyer’s father, have been partners at their architecture firm since the first year after they graduated Princeton together. They moved to Chester and opened up shop, and have become widely successful for both their residential and commercial designs. Tom and my dad are an unlikely duo, but they’re each other’s best friend and their studio has been like a second home growing up.

Unfortunately, that means I still have to spend a lot of holidays, summer barbecues, and spare time not only interacting with Sawyer, but pretending I don’t want to gut him like a fish. When we were thick as thieves, that wasn’t a problem. We were each other’s best friend and loved all the time we spent together. Now, it’s an extra-fresh level of hell.

With its deep green walls and woodsy feel, their studio/office has a cozy but elevated feel. I’ve spent many an afternoon doing my homework on the sunken leather lounge chairs just in front of the plate glass window that faces out onto Main Street in Chester. We’ve had dinner near their drawing desks, takeout Chinese from Hunan Lion, or steaming cheese pizzas from Marianna’s Italian Kitchen.

And I am here, Chinese food in tow, to celebrate the beginning of the school year as my dad and I always have. We sit at his desk, discuss my entire day, and share lo mein and sesame chicken.

“There’s my girl!” Dad beams as I walk in, standing to come scoop me up into a giant