Larry, Teresa, and Elliot are so tight, there's no room in their circle for more than three: boy, girl, boy. And when they graduate, they plan to move to California to start their real lives--together. But who are they fooling? Larry is gay and trying to come to terms with his sexuality. Teresa is tired of hanging out with boys she loves who don't want to be her boyfriend. And Elliot is realizing that he may like himself more if he isn't always in the shadow of his friends. This is a wry, surprising, and insightful story about three best friends who each learn how tough it is to be yourself. Includes an interview with the author. "Koertge returns with memorable, likable characters, spot-on dialogue that is both humorous and insightful, and a subtle exploration of prejudices and issues that will resonate with teens . . . A perceptive book about teenage friendship and the struggle for individual identity . . . Buy several copies."-- Booklist (starred review) RON KOERTGE has written many highly acclaimed books for young readers, including Stoner & Spaz, Margaux with an X, The Brimstone Journals, Shakespeare Bats Cleanup, and Where the Kissing Never Stops. He lives in South Pasadena, California. I am hot! Nothing but net from everywhere. Okay, it's my driveway and nobody's got his hand in my face, but this is amazing. Fifteen in a row, the last one from the middle of the street. I wish that jerk who wrote Slow release, slow feet on a scouting report could see me now. When I was little, I slept with my basketball. Mom's got a picture of me in my Spidey pajamas, both arms around my first Rawlings. Maybe I'm not the fastest guy in the world, but nobody takes the ball away from me. I wish I didn't have to meet Mary Ann. Or maybe I just wish I didn't have to meet her in the pasture. I for sure can't go until I miss. No way am I stopping when I'm on a run like this. Well... Nobody could have made that last one. Now I can trudge down there. Up Huron Street, cut past Mr. Denby's house; go by the falling-down-on-itself shed where Mr. Tieman kept plow horses about a thousand years ago, cross the barbed wire fence, then pick up the path that zigzags down toward the little stream Teresa used to pretend was the Nile. Oh, man. The view from here used to be so cool: up to my ankles in fescue, big stand of maple trees, and a few cows with those black-and-white sides like seat covers. And now? More little stakes with more orange ribbons. I come down here at night, pull them up, and throw them away. Next morning they're back. What do they do-multiply in the dark? Now they're almost to the Volvo. Our Volvo. I dial Larry on my new cell. I point like he was right beside me. "Can you believe this?" "It's not even ten a.m., Elliot. I'm vulnerable. I can believe anything." "I'm down in the pasture. Waiting for Mary Ann. What do you think would happen if I laid down in front of the bulldozers?" "That's lay down, Elliot, and anyway they'd run over you. Did you finish your Gatsby essay?" "Teresa's proofing it. Listen, Mary Ann's on her way, but where are you going to be in twenty minutes?" "Twenty minutes? The girls on The View are right: Romance is dead." "She said she just wants to talk." "I'll be here for a little while. I'm watching this movie on HBO." "I'm gonna call Teresa. I'll tell her to meet me at your house, okay? We'll do something." "Don't we always?" I hit the little End button to finish the call. Larry's always watching a movie. Or part of one, anyway. He's funny that way. We've been friends forever, though. Me, him, and Teresa. They're the only ones I've got in my phone book. I punch #2 and don't even give her a chance to say anything. "Hey, have you seen the pasture?" "Hello to you, too." "Well, have you seen it?" "Sure, Larry and I tried to figure out how big the lots are. There's either going to be sixteen castles with room for a few serfs or two hundred and thirty huts with a hog wallow." "This has been our place since we were kids." "Honey, if it's your childhood you're worried about, I've got about a thousand pictures of you in war paint, brandishing a bow and arrow. And another fifty of Larry squatting by a fire, stirring imaginary maize in an imaginary pot." "You know, we should do something. What if we burned the Volvo? What if we burned all our stuff?" "Arson's always fun." "Hey, you want to hang out at Larry's in a little bit? Maybe twenty minutes? I gotta meet Mary Ann, but-" "You're not inviting her to your birthday party, are you?" My dad's a butcher, and I am, too, kind of. I know knives. And that question of Teresa's has got an edge on it. "I mean, do that," she says, "and your mom'd start speaking in tongues." "I'm just gonna talk to her, then hook up with you guys." "I'd watch your step with Mary Ann if I were you. I was surfing the Net the other night, and I'm pretty sure I saw her on that Naked Nurses Who Kill for Kicks site. She was the one with the deadly