My fingers drummed the air in a wavelike motion. My right foot shifted up and down. Where was Mr. Litmen? It was already past three. The black clock hands moved at a snail’s pace. I must have been waiting for thirty minutes in his office. The door creaked. I swung around. Ian poked his head in.
“Do you know where Mr. Litmen is?”
“No. But I’m hoping he’ll be here soon,” I replied.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway and, sure enough,
Mr. Litmen stepped in beside the teenager. “Ian, how are you doing?”
“Great. We were wondering if you could come by today to help us prep for the tournament.”
Mr. Litmen checked his phone. “Yes, I think I can make that.”
The senior nodded and left.
“Jessie.” Mr. Litmen addressed me. “Today—”
“Actually, I wanted to tell you something,” I interrupted. “Sure, g
