She trudged down the steps slowly, a lunch bag in her hand. “I’ve got to get out of my honors classes. You have way too many overachievers at this school.”

I shrugged. “Most of our parents are either professors at WSU or engineers at Schweitzer Labs.”

She let out a grunt like this was a bad thing.

I didn’t ask more about her classes because I spotted Samantha walking down the stairs in front of us. “There’s the other girl on our street,” I told Elise. “Let me introduce you.”

We caught up to her so quickly I almost didn’t have time to worry about how Samantha would react to Elise. Perhaps it was selfish, but a part of me worried that Samantha would like Elise too much. After all, why shouldn’t she? Elise was pretty and, right now, charming. The type of person who could blend in with cheerleaders.

“Samantha, hi!” I said. “This is the new girl on our street, Elise.”

Samantha forced an unconvincing smile. “Hi.”

I hadn’t been Samantha’s BFF since elementary school, but I still knew her well enough to interpret that look. She wanted nothing to do with Elise. I didn’t know why but could only assume it had to do with whatever Mrs. Taylor had found out about her.

“Samantha was planning on delivering those cookies with me,” I said, “but she couldn’t because . . .”

“Cheerleading practice ran over,” Samantha said.

“Oh, that’s right. Cheerleading practice. I guess that’s hard to get out of. Anyway, you should get to know each other. Why don’t you come and eat with us today, Samantha?”

Samantha’s smile grew even more forced. “I can’t. I have to sit with my friends. They’re waiting for me.”

“They can live without you for one day.”

“Sorry. I really can’t. See ya.” She practically sprinted the rest of the way to the lunchroom.

Elise watched her go. “Are you the leper or am I?”

“That’s Samantha’s friendly way of making you feel like a valued member of PHS.”

Elise shook her head. “Cheerleaders. Some things are the same no matter where you go.”

I showed Elise where my table was. Faith was already there. I joined Caitlin in the hot-lunch line.

I was beginning to think my father was right about the universe conspiring with you to make your wishes happen. And not just because it turned out that Elise was smart, funny, and nice—the jury was still out on whether or not she was a drama queen—but because Chad Warren stood in line right in front of me.

I watched the back of his head: the way the florescent cafeteria lights brought out the highlights in his hair, the way his flannel shirt and broad shoulders made him look like a lumberjack.

According to Elise, if I talked to him right now, he’d be off limits for her. The universe was nudging me. I didn’t say anything though. I’d already looked like an idiot yesterday morning in the library, and if I said the wrong thing now, I could doom myself to be forever Chadless.

I had to think of something good to say. Something intelligent and sophisticated, preferably.

“What’s for lunch today, anyway?” Caitlin asked me. “I can’t see the sign.”

“I can’t see it either,” I said. And then I saw my opportunity. I touched Chad’s shoulder and, sounding as intelligent and sophisticated as I could, asked, “Do you know what they’re serving?”

His gaze drifted to mine, casually taking me in.“Tacos or stew. They’re both all right.”

I smiled at him. “You’ve tried the school stew? You’re a brave man.”

“Yeah,” he said smiling back at me. “It’s one of the requirements for being on the football team.”

“They make you eat the school stew to be on the football team? That’s rough.”

He laughed and I felt tingly all over. The line moved, and he turned around again. Caitlin gave me a knowing look. She was dying to tease me about talking to him, but she couldn’t say anything with him standing right there, so she just smirked a lot. When we got to the food, I asked for the stew.

Chad turned to me. “You decided to try it, huh?”

“I’m a brave woman.”

He smiled at me again, and I tingled all the way back to the table.

When I sat down, Faith leaned toward me. “Did my eyes deceive me, or did I see you talk to our hero, Chad Warren?”

“We spoke,” I said, sending Elise a triumphant look.

Elise bit into a carrot stick. “See, I told you it wasn’t hard.”

Caitlin put her hand over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes. “They exchanged pleasantries about the school stew. It was so romantic.”

I opened my milk carton. “This is why I never tell you guys anything. You make the biggest deal over the smallest thing.”

“Am I hearing right?” Caitlin asked. “Talking to Chad Warren is a small thing?”

I took a bite of the stew. “Hey, this really isn’t that bad.”

“Right,” Faith said. “We’ve all had the school stew before, and we know why you really like it.”

At fifth period, I waited for Elise outside of our English room. I figured by this point in the day she’d probably forgotten where the rest of her classes were. The room was on the second floor near the balcony that overlooked the landing. When it was nearly time for class to start and she still hadn’t come, I went to the balcony to see if I could spot her. She was at the bottom of the stairs. “Elise!” I called.

She looked up and saw me, but just then Mrs. Harris walked to the classroom door. “The bell is about to ring, Miss. Woodruff.” She had a deep, strict voice that sounded like it belonged in a Dickens novel—like she was some character who was perpetually scolding orphans. She tapped at her wristwatch. “A tardy means an extra paper to write.”

“I’m just showing Elise where the classroom is.” I motioned down the stairs. “Elise Benson. She’s new.” I turned back to Elise and waved to her to hurry.

She didn’t hurry, and she eyed Mrs. Harris wearily.

The bell rang, but Mrs. Harris waited with me for Elise to finish plodding up the stairs.

When she reached the top, I said, “Our room is that one over there. Did you get lost?”

Elise kept her gaze fixed on Mrs. Harris. “I . . . um, I think I’m switching out of Honors English . . .”

“Oh come on,” I said. “You can handle it. You were quoting Macbeth this morning.”

“Miss Benson,” Mrs. Harris said in her you-are-a-bothersome-orphan voice, “In the future, class starts directly on the hour. See to it that you are sitting in your chair at that time.” She made a sweeping motion toward the door. “Ladies, after you.”

I walked in. Elise hesitated. “I think I’m supposed to be in regular English.”

Mrs. Harris didn’t budge. “There are seats in the front. We look forward to hearing your opinions.”

Elise sighed, walked in, and dropped into one of the chairs in the front. I sat in the second row. I would have gone to sit by her, but Mrs. Harris doesn’t let us move around. She takes roll by the seating chart.

During the class discussion on whether or not Macbeth was a heroic character, Elise never voluntarily answered a question. But every time Mrs. Harris called on her, she gave good answers—and that was without reading Macbeth recently. I knew she would be fine in Honors English, and I was glad to have a friend in the class. We could study for tests together.

When the bell rang, Elise left right away. I didn’t think about that too much. She was closer to the door, and I figured she wanted to make sure she wasn’t late to her next class.

I didn’t think about it at all until after school when I went to her locker to catch a ride home with her.

She was just shutting her locker and hefting her backpack onto her shoulders. The two of us walked toward the front door. “So how did the first day go?” I asked.

She adjusted her backpack. It looked like it held every school book she owned. “I’ve had better.”

“They don’t expect you to get caught up on everything you’ve missed by tonight, do they?”