when you owe them? It's, you know, wrong.So I spent the sixth grade somewhere between unco
mfortable and unhappy, but I kept thinking that next year, next year, things would be diff
erent.We'd be in junior high — a big school — in different classes. It would be a world wi
th too many people to worry about ever seeing Juli Baker again.It was finally, finally goi
ng to be over.FlippedThe first day I met Bryce Loski, I flipped. Honestly, one look at him
and I became a lunatic. It's his eyes. Something in his eyes. They're blue, andframed in
the blackness of his lashes, they're dazzling. Absolutely breathtaking.It's been over six
years now, and I learned long ago to hide my feelings, but oh, those first days. Those fir
st years! I thought I would die for wantingto be with him.Two days before the second grade
is when it started, although the anticipation began weeks before—ever since my mother had
told me thatthere was a family with a boy my age moving into the new house right across t
he street.Soccer camp had ended, and I'd been so bored because there was nobody, absolutel
y nobody, in the neighborhood to play with. Oh, there werekids, but every one of them was
older. That was dandy for my brothers, but what it left me was home alone.My mother was th
ere, but she had better things to do than kick a soccer ball around. So she said, anyway.
At the time I didn't think there wasanything better than kicking a soccer ball around, esp
ecially not the likes of laundry or dishes or vacuuming, but my mother didn't agree. And t
hedanger of being home alone with her was that she'd recruit me to help her wash or dust o
r vacuum, and she wouldn't tolerate the dribbling of asoccer ball around the house as I mo
ved from chore to chore.To play it safe, I waited outside for weeks, just in case the new
neighbors moved in early. Literally, it was weeks. I entertained myself by playingsoccer w
ith our dog, Champ. Mostly he'd just block because a dog can't exactly kick and score, but
once in a while he'd dribble with his nose. Thescent of a ball must overwhelm a dog, thou
gh, because Champ would eventually try to chomp it, then lose the ball to me.When the Losk
is' moving van finally arrived, everyone in my family was happy. "Little Julianna" was fin
ally going to have a playmate.My mother, being the truly sensible adult that she is, made
me wait more than an hour before going over to meet him. "Give them a chance tostretch the
ir legs, Julianna," she said. "They'll want some time to adjust." She wouldn't even let me
watch from the yard. "I know you, sweetheart.Somehow that ball will wind up in their yard
and you'll just have to go retrieve it."So I watched from the window, and every few minut
es I'd ask, "Now?" and she'd say, "Give them a little while longer, would you?"Then the ph
one rang. And the minute I was sure she was good and preoccupied, I tugged on her sleeve a
nd asked, "Now?"She nodded and whispered, "Okay, but take it easy! I'll be over there in a
minute."I was too excited not to charge across the street, but I did try very hard to be
civilized once I got to the moving van. I stood outside looking in for arecord-breaking le
ngth of time, which was hard because there he was! About halfway back! My new sure-to-be b
est friend, Bryce Loski.Bryce wasn't really doing much of anything. He was more hanging ba
ck, watching his father move boxes onto the lift-gate. I remember feelingsorry for Mr. Los
ki because he looked worn out, moving boxes all by himself. I also remember that he and Br
yce were wearing matching turquoisepolo shirts, which I thought was really cute. Really ni
ce.