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Show Inside Out, 86 "I really liked your poem," I said. "Yeah, it was amazing," said Terra sarcastically from behind me, and then she flounced out of the room. Denver watched her go, then turned to me and shrugged. "Thanks," he said. "I liked yours too." "You did?" And then he looked at me, right into my eyes again, and I lost my breath. "I really did," he said. "You should enter that Young Writers Academy thing." I could feel my face get warm. "I did," I said. "Great! I know you'll win! You can really write," he said. The whole rest of the day I floated. He actually knew I was alive! He liked my poem! When I got home from school, I found Leslie bustling around the kitchen, her hair (for once!) all disheveled. "What's wrong?" I asked. She turned to me and her face was pale and drawn. Something must be very wrong. "It's Paul," she said. 'The school called me at work a few hours ago to come and get him. He's sick." "Like really sick?" I asked. "I don't know!" she wailed. "He's got a low fever and the sniffles, and he looks like death," she said. So do you, I thought. |