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232 pages, Hardcover
First published February 1, 2011
My name is Scotty Weems. I prefer Scotty, but most people, even my friends, call me Weems. I guess it's easy to say, and maybe some people think it's funny. It doesn't bother me that much. I'm just glad that Snotty Streams never really caught on as a nickname.
Anyway, I'm an athlete, so I made peace with my last name a long while ago. Since I was a little kid in T-ball, I heard it shouted every time I did something right and every time I screwed up, too. These days it's on the back of my basketball jersey. I like to think that someday people will be chanting from the bleachers: "Weems! Weems! Weems!" Chanting fans make any name sound good.
Anyway, that's me. I'll be sort of like your guide through all this. Some of the others might've seen things differently, and some of them might've told it better, but you don't get to pick. You don't because, for one thing, not all of us made it.
Pete was just, like, a normal kid. It was sort of his role. It might sound strange, being known for what you aren't, but Pete wasn't a jock or a Future Farmer of America or a student council member, and he wasn't super hip or incredibly smart. He was just a normal sophomore. [...] You needed some kids like that, otherwise all you had were competing factions of freaks, all dressed in outfits that amounted to uniforms and trying to play their music louder than yours.
Krista was wearing a blue wool hat, even though she was indoors: a blue hat and a sweater. [...] She had thick brown hair and her eyes were sort of blue-gray. Her skin had just a few reddish brown freckles here and there. But it wasn't the colors as much as the way it was all arranged. [...]
And did I mention her body? Because I will, repeatedly. She wasn't tall, but she had that awesome combination of just enough curves on a tight athletic body. [...] Really, they shouldn't let girls like her mingle with the general population, not in high school anyway. Half the time the guys here were so stuffed with hormones and frustration that we walked down the hallways stiff-legged and ready to burst.
Cell phones weren't allowed at Tattawa, and they were kind of not kidding about that.This kind of thing really felt like it belonged in middle-grade, not YA.
Also, what truly pissed me off was that ONE scene that did not necessarily need to be written[. It] was when one of the other 6 students, Julie [...] was leading boys on with her "Oh, I'm helpless" vibes, [and] triggers the boy that has a crush on her, Pete, to assume that the bad boy of the group, Les, has molested her. And of course, there's a two paragraph length of just Pete and Les semi-brawling it out when it was just a MISUNDERSTANDING.
Anyway, that’s me. I’ll be sort of like your guide through all of this.
Pete was just, like, a normal kid.
I mean, it’s like, raise your hand if you’re God, right?
He, like, radiated danger.
I remember, maybe like mid-September, I was walking along the hallway outside the library
“Because,” I said. I needed something to slow him down, so I tried the truth. “Because I don’t want to get kicked off the team, alright? Anything happens in here, it won’t be too hard to figure out who did it. We’ll all get blamed. I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it, I’m just saying we should at least pretend to hold out a little. We go a day without food, who’s gonna blame us? We start breaking things down first thing in the morning —it’s like we couldn’t wait to do it.”
Sports were pretty big at Tattawa. Most of us played something. Jason actually swung a pretty mean bat. “I just don’t want to get kicked off the team is all,” I said again, and that clinched it.
And did I mention her body? Because I will, repeatedly.
“What did you mean, we’re all going to die here?” I said. “That goth crap is just not cool. Not now.”
It came out more hostile than I’d intended. Again, it was early. Elijah took a moment to process it and then fired back.
“I’m not goth,” he said, blinking into the light coming from the open door. “Is that what you think this is, me trying to be dark and cool and morbid, pretending to be a vampire or something stupid like that? I know this is serious, and I guess maybe I shouldn’t have said that to Les. I didn’t mean it literally. It was just, ‘We’re gonna frickin’ die,’ like, we’re all screwed, you know? And we are.”