Anyway, true to form, Lynetta tried to bait me with Juli those first few days. She even sn
uck her past Dad once and marched her all around thehouse, hunting me down. I wedged mysel
f up on the top shelf of my closet, and lucky for me, neither of them looked up. A few min
utes later I heardDad yell at Juli to get off the antique furniture, and once again, she g
ot booted.I don't think I went outside that whole first week. I helped unpack stuff and wa
tched TV and just kind of hung around while my mom and dadarranged and rearranged the furn
iture, debating whether Empire settees and French Rococo tables should even be put in the
same room.So believe me, I was dying to go outside. But every time I checked through the w
indow, I could see Juli showing off in her yard. She'd be headinga soccer ball or doing hi
gh kicks with it or dribbling it up and down their driveway. And whenshe wasn't busy showi
ng off, she'd just sit on the curb with the ball between her feet, staring at our house.My
mom didn't understand why it was so awful that "that cute little girl" had held my hand.
She thought I should make friends with her. "I thoughtyou liked soccer, honey. Why don't y
ou go out there and kick the ball around?"Because I didn't want to be kicked around, that'
s why. And although I couldn't say it like thatat the time, I still had enough sense at ag
e seven and a half to know that Juli Baker was dangerous.Unavoidably dangerous, as it turn
s out. The minute I walked into Mrs. Yelson's second-grade classroom, I was dead meat. "Br
yce!" Juli squeals."You're here." Then she charges across the room and tackles me.Mrs. Yel
son tried to explain this attack away as a "welcome hug," but man, that was no hug. That w
as a front-line, take-'em-down tackle. And eventhough I shook her off, it was too late. I
was branded for life. Everyone jeered, "Where's your girl friend, Bryce?" "Are you married
yet, Bryce?" Andthen when she chased me around at recess and tried to lay kisses on me, t
he whole schoolstarted singing, "Bryce and Juli sitting in a tree, K-I-S-SI- N-G …"My firs
t year in town was a disaster.Third grade wasn't much better. She was still hot on my trai
l every time I turned around. Same with fourth. But then in fifth grade I took action.It s
tarted out slow — one of those Nah-that's-not-right ideas you get and forget. But the more
I played with the idea, the more I thought, Whatbetter way to ward Juli off? What better
way to say to her, "Juli, you are not my type"?And so, my friend, I hatched the plan. I as
ked Shelly Stalls out.To fully appreciate the brilliance of this, you have to understand t
hat Juli hates Shelly Stalls. She always has, though it beats me why. Shelly's niceand she
's friendly and she's got a lot of hair. What's not to like? But Juli hated her, and I was
going to make this little gem of knowledge the solution to my problem.What I was thinking
was that Shelly would eat lunch at our table and maybe walk around a little with me. That
way, anytime Juli was around, all I'dhave to do was hang a little closer to Shelly and thi
ngs would just naturally take care of themselves. What happened, though, is that Shelly to
okthings way too seriously. She went around telling everybody — including Juli — that we w
ere in love.In no time Juli and Shelly got into some kind of catfight, and while Shelly wa
s recovering from that, my supposed friend Garrett — who had beentotally behind this plan
— told her what I was up to. He's always denied it, but I've sincelearned that his code of
honor is easily corrupted by weepy females.