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Stories
by Maile Meloy
But she wouldnt. That was the thing that made him ache.
He buttoned his jeans and shifted his hip. He had wanted
practice, with girls, and now he had gotten it, but he wished
it had felt more like practice. It was getting colder, and he
would have to go inside soon. He fished her phone number
out of his pocket and studied it a while in the moonlight,
until he knew it by heart, and wouldnt forget it. Then he
did what he knew he should do, and rolled it into a ball, and
threw it away.
Excerpted from Both Ways Is the Only Way I Want It by Maile Meloy Copyright © 2009 by Maile Meloy. Excerpted by permission of Riverhead Books, a division of Penguin Group, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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