Odd Girl In Read Free Page A

questions. “Is that why she wants to know if we can swim? Or is the class underwater?”
    â€œJust put ‘yes,’” Dad said, an edge to his voice. “I’m sure it’s important for some reason.”
    Nick chewed on his lip while he scanned the paper. “These intellectual questions are hard.”
    Dad frowned. “Please don’t say that.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Nick. “You know my grades aren’t great.”
    â€œYes, but the test you’re holding is your sister’s.”
    â€œOh.” Nick grimaced and looked at the paper folded on his own plate. “Darn.”
    â€œI can help you,” said Parker, sliding into a chair.
    Nick, Dad, and I all looked at him in surprise, not used to seeing Parker until the second it was time to leave the house.
    â€œYou’re down early,” said Dad. “And you still did … whatever to your hair. Very impressive.”
    â€œWhat can I say? I have excellent time-management skills,” Parker said with a smug grin, reaching for his own survey.
    Nick leaned toward him and sniffed. “No, you just didn’t shower.”
    Parker blushed but kept his eyes on the page. “I don’t sweat so I don’t need to bathe every day.”
    I gave Dad a disgusted look, and he placed a hand on Parker’s shoulder. “You’re not cutting corners where hygiene is concerned.”
    Parker sighed and got up. “I suppose I’ll go flush the toilet too, then.”
    â€œUgh.” I shook my head. “What does Ashley see in him?” It was a fair question since, of my twin brothers, Nick was the cleaner, saner one.
    â€œBe nice,” said Dad, tweaking my nose. “Or you’re going to get a low score on the social portion of your survey.”
    Looking over the questions, I realized that was going to happen no matter what:
    List all the clubs you belong to.
    List all of your social activities.
    How many kids would consider you their friend?
    How often do you hang out with your friends?
    My answer to those questions was either zero, nothing, never, or none. I was quite possibly the most antisocial twelve-year-old on the planet. And I had dear old Mom to thank for that.
    When I first started kindergarten, she had taught me to be independent and to not get too friendly with anyone. She didn’t want other kids, or “obstacles” as she called them, to distract me from learning. Since I’d spent my playpen years watching Mom cradle a research book instead of me , it wasn’t too much of a change. And if it made her smile that I could finger paint better than anyone, it was worth it.
    But then she left a few years later, and I was stuck with zero social skills around kids who had already built friendships with one another. So it wasn’t that kids hated me or that I hated them; we’d just never spent time together. And after Mom, I didn’t really want to bond with anyone. Especially not with other girls.
    I filled out the physical and intellectual portions of the survey and left the social part blank until I got to school.Once there, I sat in the courtyard, wondering who my friends were and what I could list for a club or social activity.
    I’d been in detention once with a few other kids, but that probably didn’t count as a club. And going on field trips probably didn’t count as a social activity, even if I did let Emily Gold sit with me on the bus and listened to her constant babbling.
    Emily Gold. Now there was somebody who would have done even worse than me on the social portion of the survey. Like Parker, she was smart; and like Nick, she was athletic. She was the class princess who could ace anything while wearing a beauty pageant smile and a gold ribbon in her perfect ponytail. Naturally, almost everyone hated her.
    But not to her face of course.
    The bell rang and I headed for PE, tucking my survey into my pocket. Emily was already in