over to some long-lost friends at another table. We all watch her walk away. This is her superpower. It’s like she excretes some sort of mind-numbing pheromone that encourages lesser beings to follow her every move and forget everyone else around them. What surprises me is the bristle of anger and jealousy that runs across my scalp as Tom checks her out.
Kayla and I were sort of friends through sixth grade. I guess everyone in our class kind of got along until then. But around that time, someone made the decision that Kayla was boy-girl party, A-list material and I wasn’t. Lines were drawn, and I landed on the wrong side of the cool/not cool divide. Kayla decided to go along with the horde and dropped me like I was a rabid hedgehog. She just stopped knowing me. And she stopped being the kind of person I wanted to know.
“Maggie,” Nash says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Maggie.”
“Huh?” I say. They are both looking at me.
“Tom was asking you about your afternoon schedule,” Nash says through somewhat clenched teeth. He’s irritated that I haven’t been hanging on their every word.
“Oh, um, honors bio and PE.”
“Me too,” Tom says, bumping me with his shoulder. “Cool!”
I wince at the thought of another tortuous semester of PE, and Tom’s expression changes. Nash kicks me under the table.
“Sorry. It’s not you. One of the PE teachers loathes me.” I kick Nash back. Tom nods, but he doesn’t look convinced.
Chapter 3
By the time lunch is over, I’m ready to escape to my locker, but Tom asks if he can walk to bio with me. People stop to look at him, so we have to navigate the halls by dodging gawking clusters of the curious.
“Small town,” I say by way of explanation.
He hovers his hand protectively near my back and leans in so he can hear my running commentary. I see why Nash laid claim to this one.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been the new guy a lot.” We sit down at one of the back lab tables.
“No way!” I hear Kayla Hill’s voice for the second time that day. “We have another class together, Maggie?” We had history together before lunch. Kayla ignored me in that class.
“Yeah.” I dig in my bag for a pencil. “Cool.”
“Hey, Tom, I don’t have a lab partner yet.” Kayla indicates an empty table up front.
“Oh, thanks, but I’m going to partner with Maggie,” Tom says.
“That’s great.” Kayla smiles at me but wilts a little. “As long as you’re taken care of.”
“I think Maggie will take good care of me,” Tom says. Now they are both smiling at me like it’s my turn to say something.
“Uh, yeah,” I say. “Totally taken care of.”
“Okay, well, see you!” Kayla waves her little wave and takes her perky little butt back to her seat. I rummage around in my bag again, this time searching for my calculator. When I look up, Tom’s eyes are on me, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh.
“What?” I say, rubbing my face and running my tongue over my teeth in case I have remnants of yogurt lingering.
“Nothing. Just trying to figure things out.”
“Figure things out?”
“Yeah. New town. New school. It takes a couple days to put it all together.”
“Only a couple days?” I’m hoping Tom won’t be one of those guys who decide who you are in the first five minutes.
“Usually,” he says. “Sometimes a little longer.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’m still trying to figure things out. Must be nice to understand it all in less than a week.”
“I didn’t say I’d understand it all. But schools start to look alike after a while, and so do the people.”
“Flattering,” I say. “So we’re all just clones of people you knew at other schools?”
“Not exactly clones. And there are always exceptions. Nash, for example. And you. You’re definitely not a clone.”
I stare at him, wavering between pleasure at not being lumped in with the other Cedar Ridge robots and
Kayla and I were sort of friends through sixth grade. I guess everyone in our class kind of got along until then. But around that time, someone made the decision that Kayla was boy-girl party, A-list material and I wasn’t. Lines were drawn, and I landed on the wrong side of the cool/not cool divide. Kayla decided to go along with the horde and dropped me like I was a rabid hedgehog. She just stopped knowing me. And she stopped being the kind of person I wanted to know.
“Maggie,” Nash says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Maggie.”
“Huh?” I say. They are both looking at me.
“Tom was asking you about your afternoon schedule,” Nash says through somewhat clenched teeth. He’s irritated that I haven’t been hanging on their every word.
“Oh, um, honors bio and PE.”
“Me too,” Tom says, bumping me with his shoulder. “Cool!”
I wince at the thought of another tortuous semester of PE, and Tom’s expression changes. Nash kicks me under the table.
“Sorry. It’s not you. One of the PE teachers loathes me.” I kick Nash back. Tom nods, but he doesn’t look convinced.
Chapter 3
By the time lunch is over, I’m ready to escape to my locker, but Tom asks if he can walk to bio with me. People stop to look at him, so we have to navigate the halls by dodging gawking clusters of the curious.
“Small town,” I say by way of explanation.
He hovers his hand protectively near my back and leans in so he can hear my running commentary. I see why Nash laid claim to this one.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been the new guy a lot.” We sit down at one of the back lab tables.
“No way!” I hear Kayla Hill’s voice for the second time that day. “We have another class together, Maggie?” We had history together before lunch. Kayla ignored me in that class.
“Yeah.” I dig in my bag for a pencil. “Cool.”
“Hey, Tom, I don’t have a lab partner yet.” Kayla indicates an empty table up front.
“Oh, thanks, but I’m going to partner with Maggie,” Tom says.
“That’s great.” Kayla smiles at me but wilts a little. “As long as you’re taken care of.”
“I think Maggie will take good care of me,” Tom says. Now they are both smiling at me like it’s my turn to say something.
“Uh, yeah,” I say. “Totally taken care of.”
“Okay, well, see you!” Kayla waves her little wave and takes her perky little butt back to her seat. I rummage around in my bag again, this time searching for my calculator. When I look up, Tom’s eyes are on me, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh.
“What?” I say, rubbing my face and running my tongue over my teeth in case I have remnants of yogurt lingering.
“Nothing. Just trying to figure things out.”
“Figure things out?”
“Yeah. New town. New school. It takes a couple days to put it all together.”
“Only a couple days?” I’m hoping Tom won’t be one of those guys who decide who you are in the first five minutes.
“Usually,” he says. “Sometimes a little longer.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’m still trying to figure things out. Must be nice to understand it all in less than a week.”
“I didn’t say I’d understand it all. But schools start to look alike after a while, and so do the people.”
“Flattering,” I say. “So we’re all just clones of people you knew at other schools?”
“Not exactly clones. And there are always exceptions. Nash, for example. And you. You’re definitely not a clone.”
I stare at him, wavering between pleasure at not being lumped in with the other Cedar Ridge robots and
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