Chapter 39

Steve paused, stuffed basketball in hand.

"Am I a bad person?"

"That doesn't rhyme at all." Gar said, absently.

"Seriously, man. She's allowed to see whoever she wants, right? So why should it eat me apart inside?"

"Because you're mostly a woman?"

"It's going to be like that? I'm dying here, man."

"Yes, it's going to be like that," Gar considered what he had written, then erased a large part of his poem.

"I just don't want to be a jealous jerk."

"You're not jealous."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, you're envious. For jealousy you have to possess something and then lose it. Envy is when you want something that someone else has. You're basically coveting."

"Shut up."

"You shut up, you envious jerk. There. The poem's done. Let's go shoot some hoops."

"All right."

"Hey," Gar turned back to face Steve, "if you beat me, you're fated to win her heart."

"By prom night?"

"By prom night."

"Sounds like it's up to fate, then."

"No no - when I win, I don't want to hear anything more about Jennipher Semmes. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Right."