Beat the Band (Swim the Fly #2)(39)

“You couldn’t pay me enough to eat yak’s testicles.”

“Right. You wouldn’t eat them for a million dollars?”

This stops me. A million bucks? Now we’re getting into interesting territory. “Do I get it all at once? Or do they pay me like the lottery? Over twenty years.”

“All at once. But you have to eat both of them. And you have to chew them”— Helen looks skyward, thinking —“eighteen times each.” She laughs.

I cringe. “Aw, man. That’s vile.” Helen’s got this happy twinkle in her eye that I haven’t seen before. “Did the guy say what they tasted like?”

“Like a combination of liver and oysters. But more gristly.” She raises her eyebrows. “Sounds appetizing, huh?”

I feel my stomach clench. “And you watch this show?”

“Every week. So? Would you do it?”

“For a million bucks? Yes. I would.”

“On national TV?”

“Hold the phone. You didn’t say that.”

“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

I think it over a moment. I’d get major crap from everyone at school, but so what? I’d be a millionaire. I could just flash my mud flaps at them from my limo. “Yes. On national television. What about you?”

She laughs. “No way.”

“Why not?” I say.

“Because they’re yak testicles. And the whole world would see me eating them.”

“So? I mean, seriously. At this point, does it really matter?”

The words are barely out of my mouth when Helen’s face shuts. It’s like this curtain blew aside for a few moments, and now she’s grabbed it and drawn it tight.

I feel my entire body flush. “I didn’t mean that. I just —”

“Whatever,” Helen says. “Forget it.” She glances at the clock. “Damn it. We’re never going to finish our lesson plans for this week.” She closes her eyes for a second. Takes a breath. Then opens them and looks at me. “Look, you probably don’t want to but . . .” Helen’s neck goes pink. “Would you maybe be able to meet tomorrow after my cross-country practice? Just for an hour or two?”

I look into her deep hazel eyes and open my mouth to tell her no. That I couldn’t possibly do it. That there’s no way.

So I’m completely floored when what comes out is, “Sure. Okay. Can we meet at your house?”





SEAN BOUNCES UP TO MY LOCKER. “Hey, look what I found.” He reaches into his pants pocket, pulls out a stack of old Pokémon cards, and starts shuffling through them with a dumb smile on his face. “Dragonite. Mewtwo. Charizard. Remember how we used to go nuts for these things?”

“Dude, what the hell are you doing? Put those back in your pocket.” I turn away from him fast, chuck my stuff into my locker, and take a furtive glance around to make sure no one is witnessing this. Thankfully, there’s nobody directly beside us, and everyone in the halls seems to be in their own worlds.

“Why?” he says, still holding the cards.

“You don’t bring that stuff to school, dawg.” I keep my voice low. “Not if you want the babes to take you seriously.” I shut my locker door and start walking.

Sean tails me. “Okay, Mr. Know-Everything. Then why did me and Gina Lagotta have, like, a forty-five minute conversation about Pokémon in Biology today when she’s never even given me the time of day before?”

My stomach drops. “Do not tell me you were showing those cards around school.”

“So what if I was? It’s not like I’m the only one who ever collected Pokémon stuff. Gina still has her Pikachu doll.”

I pick up the pace as we make our way down the stairs. I can’t get out of this school and away from any prying ears fast enough. “Jesus, Sean, don’t you get it? It’s okay for her, because she’s a girl. She wants people to think she’s cute. Exactly what you don’t want her to think about you. Girls aren’t attracted to little baby boys, Sean. They want mature cool dudes. Why do you think all the hot babes date guys in college? You’ve got to get with the program, dawg, or you’ll never attain rock god status.”

“Look, I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not, okay?”

“I’m not saying to pretend to be someone else. Just a cooler version of yourself.” I burst through the first set of doors we come to. Sean trots to keep up. “Haven’t you been listening to my dad? We have to present a rock-and-roll attitude. Pokémon is not rock and roll.”

Sean stares at the cards he’s still holding in his hands. There’s a wistful look in his eyes. “I thought he was just talking about when we were onstage.”

Because we came out the front, we have to walk all the way around the school to the bike racks at the back. “Look. Okay. It’s like, say you had a Lamborghini.”

“I’m never going to have a Lamborghini. My mom says it sends a bad message. Girls like you for the wrong reasons.”

“Yeah, right, whatever. Listen to your mom’s advice on women. Good idea. Anyway, just say you had one. For the purpose of this example. And it’s got some, you know, Pampers advertisement painted on the doors.”