The League

"What do you want to see?" I asked Evan outside the movie theater. My mom had just driven away, and Evan's dad was going to pick us up afterward.

Evan lived next door and was in eighth grade like me, but she went to a different school. She had brown eyes, long dark hair in braids that fell just below her shoulders, and dimples that came out of nowhere whenever she smiled. Her feet had tan lines from the flip-flops she had been wearing since the sun came out in late March. Now it was late May, which meant summer vacation would begin in less than a month.

"Whatever," she said. "As long as it isn't rated R, sold out, or something I've already seen."

Evan was wearing baggy gym shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt, which was typical since she was always coming from or going to some practice--today it was lacrosse. She bit her lower lip as she stared at the list of movies. I always liked the way her nose scrunched up when she did that.

"And nothing with 'love' in the title," I added.

"Or anything longer than two hours," said Evan. "I need to be home by six o'clock so I can eat dinner before lacrosse practice."

That left only one choice: a baseball movie. I'd been wanting to see it anyway. I was on a baseball team this spring. I'd chosen baseball because I thought it might get Dad off my back about playing golf. He had been pushing me to get better so we could play together more often.

"How about Swing and a Miss?" I asked.

"Yeah, okay, I guess. But get ready to pay up if I don't like it."

That was the deal Evan and I had. Whoever picked the movie had to buy the other person's ticket if the movie stank. Luckily Mom and Dad gave me money for every A on my report card. I'd earned enough to fill up a jumbo peanut butter container I kept on my desk.

"It can't be worse than Surf's Up," I said while we were waiting in line.

Evan patted her heart twice. "That was my bad."

It was my turn at the ticket window. "One for Swing and a Miss, please," I said, passing my money through the slot to the woman in the booth.

"Child or adult?" the woman asked.

"Adult," I said, grinding my teeth. I wanted to put my face up against the glass and yell, Can't you see I'm in the eighth grade!

The woman looked surprised as she counted out my change. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen." I hated these conversations. I wished I looked my age. Knowing Evan was standing right behind me didn't help.

I held out my hand and took the money from the woman.

"You look younger," she said.

"Thanks," I said, even though it wasn't a compliment.

Evan didn't say anything as we went inside the lobby. Maybe she hadn't heard my conversation with the woman in the ticket booth. Still, I just wanted to get to the dark theater, where nobody could see me.

At the snack bar, I got a small bucket of popcorn and a soda. "Are you getting anything?" I asked her.

Evan pointed at the bucket. "Can I just share with you?"

"You don't want to get your own? This is a small."

Evan tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes. "Wyatt, you're supposed to share your popcorn when you bring a girl to the movies."

I felt my face turn red. "You mean like a date?"

I had never been on a date with a girl, but if I ever went on one, I hoped it would be with Evan.

"I wish this was a date, buddy," said Evan. "I'd make you buy me a jumbo bucket and a large soda and some gummy bears. Then I'd throw up all over you."

"If you did that, I'd make you buy me a new shirt."

"Lucky for you we're just friends," Evan said.

I am lucky¸ I told myself as we left the concession area. I am at the movies with Evan Robinson, and nobody else can say that.

We had some time to kill before the movie, so we found a free table in the café above the lobby. We could see all the people below coming in and out of the theater. On the wall next to us were posters for upcoming summer movies.

Evan gasped and pointed to a poster for The All-Star. There was a girl in a football uniform holding a helmet. "I totally want to see that," she told me. "Opening day, we have to be first in line."

"What about Dr. Pirate? That looks hilarious. Do you think he operates on people with the hook?"

Evan laughed. "Now I have to know."

"And Invasion Earth Three-D Two," I said. "We have to see that too."

Suddenly Evan kicked me under the table. "Wyatt, check it out!" she whispered, even though it was too loud in the café to hear other people's conversations. "It's Brian Braun." She pointed to a guy in the lobby wearing cargo shorts, a dark green T-shirt, and a backward baseball cap.