Buku Escape from Year Eight by Anna Pershall

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Escape from Year Eight by Anna Pershall

Author:Anna Pershall

Language: eng

Format: epub

ISBN: 9781742280417

Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia

Published: 2007-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

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Escape from Year Eight by Anna Pershall

Monday 17 September

12.30 p.m.

‘Imagine if Mischa Barton came in here to eat,’ Jazz says, picking up a dried-out potato wedge and popping it in his mouth.

 

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Escape from Year Eight by Anna Pershall

Author:Anna Pershall , Date: July 8, 2019

,Views: 27

Author:Anna Pershall

Language: eng

Format: epub

ISBN: 9781742280417

Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia

Published: 2007-07-07T16:00:00+00:00
Monday 17 September

12.30 p.m.

‘Imagine if Mischa Barton came in here to eat,’ Jazz says, picking up a dried-out potato wedge and popping it in his mouth.

‘Why would she do that?’ I ask, looking around the now-familiar cafeteria.

‘Well, they could do a reality show where celebrities have to survive in a normal school. She’d be like, “Me? Eat wedges? I only have cigarettes and Coke Zero for lunch.”’

I laugh at his imitation of Mischa’s expression and voice, then decide to have a go myself. ‘“Please, get me away from those burgers. The smell’s letting calories into my nose!”’

‘Can they do that?’ Jazz looks puzzled.

‘What?’

‘Can calories sneak in when you smell fattening stuff?’

‘I don’t think so!’

I shove my own cheeseburger aside. It’s the best thing they’ve served here so far, but a few bites is enough. I don’t want to regain the weight I lost while I was sick. It’s my first day back. Now Amy’s got my cold. She called me last night to tell me she wouldn’t be coming to school today. She sounded awful, like her throat had barbed wire in it.

‘How come you keep looking at him?’ Jazz asks me.

‘Who?’

‘You know who. Weirdo povo Leono.’ He nods to the far table, where Leon’s sitting with his back to the grease-coloured wall, munching on an apple from a paper bag.

‘I’m not looking at him,’ I protest, but as I say it I realise I was. I looked at him a few times in class this morning, too, but he didn’t glance in my direction once. He kept his head down, drawing, like he always does. When he came to our house he acted like I was the soul mate he’d been looking for forever, and now he just totally ignores me. I mean, I didn’t expect him to come back and sit beside me on the bus or anything. I don’t even know if I’d want him to do that, but he could act like he vaguely knows me from somewhere.

I was thinking after he left our house the other day that it’d be kind of cool if I could help him, get him to talk to people again. I’d be like those teachers who get autistic kids who everybody thought were retarded to add up millions of numbers in a millisecond.

‘Do you like him?’ Jazz asks, jarring me out of my thoughts.

‘No!’

‘You sure?’

‘Yes! He’s weird, like you said.’ I don’t want anybody to know I was daydreaming about teaching a total nutter.

‘Good.’ Jazz smiles like he’s got a secret of his own.

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