Flying Lessons & Other Stories

the whole time!

“Tell you what, Angel. Since you think I cheated, let’s try it again. Double Jeopardy.

If I’m wrong, I do your homework

for the rest of the year. If I’m right, you, uh, go to see the new Star Wars with me and Hervé this weekend.”

I couldn’t believe I’d said that.

But I was happy I did, and I prayed

that my “powers” wouldn’t leave me

before I got a chance to seal this deal.

The hallway fills with chanting:

DO IT!

DO IT!

DO IT!

“Angel, girl, come on, let’s get out of here.

He’s some kind of weirdo.”

Yeah, she’s probably right, but I got something

he can’t ever know.

I’ll write it down, but I ain’t whispering

the answer to nobody either,

’cause he probably

can just hear

real good.





DO OR DIE


“All right, Monk, you think you’re so cool, but you’re a fool. I’m happy to let you do my homework

for the rest of the year.”

(Hey, at least she didn’t call me stupid. That’s progress, right?) The hallway is silent, crickets, when she asks her question: “How much did my mom pay to get my hair braided?

Including tax.”

She takes out

a piece of paper, writes the answer,

folds it up, gives

it to Carla, and walks up to me till our noses almost touch.

“No cheatin’ this time.

What’s the answer? How much?”

The hall is silent, like somebody just took

the last shot

in a basketball game.

Will it go in?

I think we all know the answer to that question.

Well, at least I do!





YES


I don’t know why this happened to me.

I could guess

and say maybe it was some kind of cosmic prank, or the universe paying me back for so many years of being uncool.

I don’t

know for sure, but it sure felt good and right, and my life would never be

the same

again.

Oh, please don’t get this.

Please, please. I already told Justin

I’d go see Star Wars with him

this weekend. I gotta pee baaaad!

I knew the answer as soon as she wrote it.

I heard her repeating it

and reassuring herself that there was no way I could know.

I watched her,

looked in her eyes, glassy with fear, and

for a second I felt sorry for her,

and I guess the nice, geeky guy in me took over, because I leaned into her, and I whispered…





THE END


“Look, I like you, and I would like to go see a movie

with you someday, but only if you really wanted to, and plus I’ve kinda already got plans with my Chewbacca Crew to see it on Saturday, and you and I both know

that Justin would be pissed if you dumped him

for me,

so I’ll forget

the whole bet

if you do me two favors.”

Favors? Are you crazy?

Wait, how do you know about Justin?

I didn’t even tell Carla

about him. OMG! Do you know?

I nod, and I can almost see a tear forming in her eye.

“Yeah, two favors,” I whisper in her ear again, so no one can hear us. “Uh, how about, uh, a kiss.”

“WHAT?! I don’t think so!”

“It’s either that, or—”

“I am not kissing you, Monk.”

“Well, then, just walk me to my next class—”

“That’s it?”

“And, hold my, uh…hand.”

Ugh! Why would I do a thing like that? I really got to pee!

“It’s either that, or we’re going to the movies, ’cause I know

how much

your hair cost. Plus tax.

So it’s your choice.

And you probably ought to decide pretty quickly,

’cause I’d hate for you to pee on yourself

in front of

all these people.”

He knows, but how could he know?

It’s not possible.

This is so embarrassing.

I back up, walk over to my locker, and eagerly wait.

Angel Carter inches toward me like a centipede.

When she gets so close that her cornrows

brush up against my cardigan, I close my eyes

and imagine

the two of us

on some tropical island, like Bermuda, and all I can hear is

the sound

of the cool

calm river,

and two swimmers

ready to dive.





EPILOGUE

In this memoir

I have taken

some liberties

and added a little

drama

here (and there)

to keep it interesting.

But everything

I’ve written here

is true.

(Mostly.)

Monk Oliver

Mr. Preston’s Honors English 7





Sometimes a Dream Needs a Push


WALTER DEAN MYERS





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