How to Take the Ex Out of Ex-Boyfriend Read Free

ripping his face off.”
    Luke laughed like this was somehow funny. “So there will be a dead guy on the float after all. You can call him Norman and dedicate the float in his memory.”
    I turned to Jesse to see his reaction to this. He groaned and shook his head, but I didn’t know if it was because Luke was an insensitive dolt, or whether he just didn’t like the float idea.
    Dante smiled at Luke stiffly, then turned his attention back to Wilson. “The floats won’t be built until next fall. Why is this year’s student council already making the decisions?”
    â€œWe like to be prepared. It makes it easier to get everything ready.”
    Dante raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t next year’s student body president get a say on what the theme is?”
    Stacey, Bridget, Luke, and Wilson all glanced at each other and smirked. Wilson said, “Oh, definitely.”
    Which made Stacey and Bridget giggle.
    Jesse called over to Dante, “Elections are in three weeks, and as far as anybody knows, Wilson is the only one running.”
    Bridget nudged Wilson with her elbow as though it were an inside joke. “It wouldn’t matter if anyone else ran. Wilson would beat them.”
    â€œWhich is why no one else is running,” Stacey said. “Ain’t no two ways about it.” And then the four of them smirked again.
    Dante smiled. “I’m running.”
    Bridget laughed, shaking her head, but Wilson’s eyes narrowed. He stared at Dante, unspeaking.
    Dante took his keys from his jacket pocket and strode to the door. “See you at the polls,” he said, and then left.
    As soon as the door clicked shut, all eyes turned to Wilson. He shrugged and smiled, evaporating the tension that filled the room. “Looks like I might have competition after all.” Wilson raised his glass as though offering a toast to Jesse’s guests. “And may the best Texan win.”
    A rumble of laughter rolled around the room, and Wilson’s gaze followed it, silently accepting their support. Then his eyes stopped on Jesse. Something flickered in his expression. Perhaps worry. Perhaps a challenge.
    The next moment, he turned back to Luke, talking and laughing so casually that I wondered if I’d imagined the look he’d sent Jesse.
    Jesse stayed with me for most of the rest of the party, but we didn’t talk about the election again until everyone left. Then while he put on his jacket so he could take me home, I looked out the window and thought about my brother. “You don’t think Dante will really run for school president, do you?”
    Jesse zipped up his jacket. “I doubt it. Most likely he was blowing off steam on account of the memorial for Norman.”
    Maybe, or maybe Dante just wanted to pick a fight with Wilson. Over the years we’d lived in Bickham, Wilson had said some things about Dante, specifically that he looked like he shopped at only the best yard sales. And Dante had said some things back to Wilson, most of which were unrepeatable in polite company. So maybe Dante just wanted to fight.
    â€œHe might be upset about the memorial,” I said, “but I don’t know. It’s not like he and Norman were close friends.”
    Jesse took my hand, and we walked toward his garage. “Remember how, not too long before he died, Norman tried to convince Dante to join the math team?”
    I grunted, and Jesse held up a hand to stop my protest.
    â€œI know—Dante’s favorite thing to do in calculus class is to pretend like he’s sleeping, but Norman told him he was smart enough to help out the math team. You don’t forget that kind of thing.”
    We walked into the garage, and Jesse hit the button on the wall to open the door. It gave a protesting grind as it lifted to let the night air in.
    I crawled onto the back of Jesse’s bike and snapped on my helmet. “So is Wilson mad at Dante for saying