The Pages Between Us Read Online Free Page A

“yuh-yuh-yuh.” Don’t try it, you’ll hurt your tongue.
    Tara turned to me looking horrified and said, “Are you choking on something?”
    I waved her off as politely as possible. She whirled around and took off.
    Impressive, right? She probably thinks I’m possessed by a demon. A stuttering demon.
    Honestly, the only other bright spot besides French is math class with Jackson. Oh, look at that! I mentioned him already.
    Here are all the necessary details:
    I don’t think the act of me “saying” “things” to “his face” will ever happen. That means our future wedding will be quite awkward.
    So I need to lay some groundwork. I’m going to focus all my energy into getting a note to him. Jackson is almost within note-passing range.
    Which means getting it to him might require the help of a middleman.
    Or middlewoman.
    To be specific, Jackson is one seat up and two seats over. Like, if this was a chess game and I was a knight, he’d totally be MINE.
    Dad and I don’t play chess as much since he went back to teaching at the university. While he was taking that year off to “do research on economic growth in Midwestern cities during the 1850s” (a phrase he constantly muttered), we played a game of chess every day. On good days, we played two.
    Of course, he’d stop mid-game if Jason happened to call from school. Chatting about Jason’s coursework seemed to be Dad’s true passion in life. I guess I sort of assumed that he would start chatting with me as soon as Jason moved out. All I got was one to two chess games a day.
    Maybe I should have been grateful for that.
    Now that Dad’s back to work full-time? I can hardly get the word “chess” out of my mouth before he’s running out the door, gripping his mug of coffee and barely saying good-bye.
    This explains why I recently Googled the phrase “Can you teach chess to a cat?”
    In related news: YouTube videos of cats playing chess is A THING. And also how I lost forty-five minutes of my life.
    But I did find out that you, of course, were right, and Jackson being in my math class wasn’t a ghostly vision. Yes, they had to rearrange his schedule because of student council. But the best part of that news? He was voted in as class secretary. Secretary!
    Secretary is such a vital part of any organization. I’d really like to read his notes sometime. I could give him some tips on when to use bullet points instead of outline form.
    Anyway, since every chess player thinks two moves ahead, I was brainstorming conversation starters in case I found myself in a position to chat with Jackson.
    I wrote these down on the bottom of my math worksheet.

    Oh, sheesh, Piper! THESE ARE AWFUL.
    Your idea to get a scarf and some fierce fake glasses is way better. Like a mini-makeover, tutoring style. I am sort of jealous that you wear glasses for REAL. You’re halfway to becoming your favorite soap star, Ashley Desdemona.
    I should probably take you shopping with me next time because my shopping experience with Mom this past weekend only resulted in the purchase of three skirts and a book, all of which I really didn’t want.
    Let me explain:
    As soon as we got in the car, Mom rattled off all the things we were going to do for “girls’ day.”
    â€œFirst a stop at the Tea Room for a little something to eat, honey.” Her adorable Southern accent slipped out. Considering how often she tells people here in California that she’s originally from Atlanta (Atlaaaaanta)—as if it’s an exotic land—I’m pretty sure she likes her Southern accent to slip out. I like it too, actually.
    â€œAlready had a juice smoothie. Really, all I need are some practical pants. So can we just—”
    She crinkled her nose and patted my hand. “It’s girls’ day, Olivia. We’re having lunch, going department-store shopping, then getting our