I closed the door and turned around. Critter was standing about six inches away and I yelped. “Jesus, you scared me!”
“Sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to see if you were all right. I heard yelling.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” he said. “Now you can help me get ready for school.”
Stoopid, Part II
“Are you sure about this?” I asked.
“Go on,” he urged. “Do it.”
Critter thrust the shaver into my hand—the same one he’d used on me the week before.
“But you love this hair,” I said.
“Correction—used to love it. Now I just want a change. Okay?”
I flicked the shaver on and felt it vibrate in my hand. “Can I at least close my eyes?”
“No!” he said. “Come on, Sea. It’s no big deal, right? It’ll grow back.”
Fifteen minutes later I buzzed off the last bits of his bleached blond hair. Now Critter looked more like a marine recruit than the womanizing crooner he’d admired since he was seven. Together we probably looked like the founding members of a Vin Diesel fan club.
“Nice,” he said, checking out the new do in a hand mirror. “My head feels ten pounds lighter.”
“It’s really white. You need to self-tan your scalp or something.”
“Oh, hush,” he said. “You’re just jealous because I look so much better than you do bald.” He scrambled to his feet. “I hear fireworks. Want to go see?”
“Sure.”
It was dark outside, and the fireflies twinkled gold against the asphalt. When I was little I’d thought that fireflies were fairies. I thought if I caught one and held on to it long enough, it would turn into Tinker Bell and make me fly.
“Pretty,” I murmured.
“Yeah,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the lightning bugs.
I pretended not to notice his stare. “I don’t see any fireworks.”
“You can hear them, though, if you listen hard.”
Sure enough, I heard the low, faraway booms. It made me sad, not being able to see them. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d missed the big display. Even before the Riverfront had opened, we’d always made the trek to Rockford Park. I still had all the glow necklaces I’d collected over the years, though they’d long since lost their juice.
“What are you thinking about?” Critter asked.
“I’m thinking,” I said, “that it’s been a hell of a summer so far.”
“No doubt,” he agreed. Then he groaned. “I can’t believe our vacation is already over.”
The thing was, I was actually looking forward to starting class. For the first time in my life, I craved routine. That and the chance to finally prove not just to Layla or even Jesse, but to me as well—that I was really capable of more.
Critter, though—he just looked so . . . deflated. “It won’t be that bad,” I said, ruffling his nonexistent hair. “Summer school will be over before you know it. And then we’ll hang out for the rest of August like we always do.”
He chuckled softly. “Sure.”
I looked down and noticed that the edges of one of my scabs—from my big lipslide wipeout—had started to curl. I picked at the loose flakes and sighed. “What do you want me to say?”
Right then, an enormous explosion of color lit up the sky. Swirling tendrils of red, purple, and green streaked through the darkness, followed by electric spiderwebs of white.
“Whoa,” Critter said, his head popping up. “Did you see that?”
I didn’t have time to respond, but he wouldn’t have heard me anyway. There were more explosions, big and loud and bright, followed by the ones that shriek as they burn. The neighbors started spilling out of their houses to watch the show, and it wasn’t long before Layla and Jesse came outside to join us.
The whole thing lasted maybe six minutes, but it was long enough for me. Critter, too, if the carefree smile he was wearing was any indication. The four of us were squeezed on the stoop, Layla to my right and Jesse to Critter’s left, and after the crap we’d all been dealing with, it felt really good to just sit there with them— my family.
“Hey, rock star,” I whispered in Critter’s ear. “Love ya.”
He nudged my shoulder gently. “Yeah,” he said, still smiling. “Me too.”
About the Author
lara m. Zeises is the author of two other novels for young adults, Bringing Up the Bones, a Delacorte Press Prize Honor Book, and Contents Under Pressure, which began as her thesis project at Emerson College, where she earned her MFA in creative writing. She is the recipient of an Emerging Artist Fellowship in Literature— Fiction from the Delaware Division of the Arts.
Lara has never ridden a skateboard or worshipped at the altar of Rod Stewart, but she does share her characters’ deep-seated appreciation for air-conditioning. She lives in Delaware, where she grew up, but you can visit her on the Web at www.zeisgeist.com.
Published by
Delacorte Press
an imprint of
Random House Children’s Books
a division of Random House, Inc.
New York
Text copyright © 2005 by Lara M. Zeises
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and
retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher,
except where permitted by law.
The trademark Delacorte Press is registered in the U.S. Patent and
Trademark Office and in other countries.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/teens
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at
www.randomhouse.com/teachers
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Zeises, Lara M.
Anyone but you / Lara M. Zeises.
p. cm.
Summary: Teenagers Seattle and Critter, “faux step-siblings” since
Seattle’s father left her with Critter’s mother six years earlier, spend
the summer sorting through their romantic feelings and making
decisions about what they want from life.
eISBN : 978-0-307-43314-5
www.randomhouse.com
v1.0
Anyone but You Page 15
