Just Anna.

“I’m Jackson,” he says, his fidget the only sign he might be a little nervous.

“I remember your name,” I say.

He shifts his schoolbooks to his other hand and rubs his right hand on his knee. His face stays calm, though.

Maybe I can pass for a normal girl, after all. Better than that, maybe I can be someone new. Someone I want to be. Not the middle school slut, not a disappointment, not a whore, and not someone to pity. Maybe I can leave both of my old lives behind and find something new.

Sarah told me that the few friends I had in middle school either moved away or go to private school now, so most likely no one will know who I am. Most of my real friends were older, and they’re already out of school.

This is a good thing, I try to convince myself.

It will at least take a while for the people at school to figure it out, figure me out.

I smile. I’ll think of it like I’m walking through New York City, when I used to look at all the people and imagine their lives. I’d pretend I belonged with them.

This can be like that. Except this time, maybe it will work.

“Now that’s the first real smile I think I’ve seen from you,” Jackson says.

I want to cut the smile off. I can’t be so transparent with a stranger, even if he is so cute and nice. But my smile won’t seem to go away, so I just say, “Nice to meet you, Jackson.”

“You’re new, right? Where are you from?” he says, leaning in slightly.

I fidget in my seat and press my back against the cold glass of the bus window. As much as I like the way Jackson looks at me, I can’t help but feel that if he looks too closely, he’ll see right through me.

My smile? A hint at the past I’m happy to forget.

And being friendly with him? I’ve been friendly with nice guys before. In the end, I always found out opening up to them was a mistake.

“Yeah, I’m new,” I say quietly, but I ignore the rest of his question. In part because I don’t know how to answer it. I squeeze the ugly blue backpack Sarah bought me tighter, like it can protect me.

“You’re living with Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez, right? Are you related to them?”

I blink. How long can I maintain my cover if he keeps asking questions? It’s not like anyone’s going to figure it all out at once, but there can’t be too many girls in town who disappeared for three years. I don’t want him to know even that much.

He might not have any clue where I’ve been, but I didn’t exactly have a pristine life before I ran away. I used to be the middle school slut, dated a college guy when I was just thirteen, and used to brag about how I wasn’t sure if I was pregnant or not…

As much as I like pretending I’m a normal girl talking to a cute guy, I can’t keep it up forever.

It’s a double-edged sword. If I tell him the truth and he likes me for who I really am, I’ll know there’s something disturbingly wrong with him. And if I lie, pretend to be someone else, he’ll just hate me even more when he finds out the truth.

So why do I feel tempted to keep sitting here with Jackson and see how much of his confidence can rub off on me?

Luckily for me the bus is already pulling up to the school, so I jump over him with a quick, “Sorry, gotta go,” and make my way to the front as the doors open. Everyone stands up to exit the bus, and I see Jackson lost behind about a dozen kids. Just enough for me to escape into the crowd.

I’m comforted by the mass of bodies around me now. At least here I can blend in. But the glass doors stare down at me. I stop, my heart pounding. So much for stealing some confidence from Jackson.

I look at the crowd around me and step off to the side, behind a bush and an empty bike rack, and close my eyes.

My first day of school in three years and I’ve already blown my cover as a normal student.

Not that it would have taken everyone long to notice something was different. I’m a sixteen-year-old freshman. I didn’t even complete my eighth-grade year. I skipped town a month before the end of the year.

My father wanted them to put me in the grade appropriate for my age, but apparently there are some things even he can’t force people to do. The other freshman are thirteen and fourteen years old. I’m a total freak.

I take a deep breath and try to relax.

I don’t expect to be Miss Popular here. I wasn’t popular before I left, and it’s not like I want that now, but I still have a little pride.

I can do this.

After a deep breath, I walk inside. Into the busy crowd of students. It reminds me of my first moments in New York City. Lost, alone, surrounded by hundreds of people who don’t notice you, let alone ask if you’re okay.

Like you’re suffocating and there are hundreds of people who could stop and help you—but no one does. The same way no one stopped to help me.

Except Luis. He stopped. He helped me. Took me from Grand Central and showed me the city.

I press on. The girl at Grand Central is no longer me. I’m stronger. This time, I don’t need help. This time, I’ll do it all on my own.

I go into the front office and walk up to the counter. I stand there, content in watching the office drones fussing over a copy machine and filing paperwork, until finally a woman wearing an ugly turtleneck looks up and notices me.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say something, sweetheart?”

“I, um… I’m new.” It’s close enough to the truth.

“My name’s Mrs. Norberry. What’s your name, sweetheart?” she says, rummaging around in a pile of paperwork.

“Anna,” I say. “Anna Rodriguez.”

“Right,” she says. Grabbing a folder that was set off to the side.

She opens the folder and stares at it for a moment, too quiet. How much does she know? How much does anyone here know? I can’t believe my parents would tell them much. Not the whole truth. But the way she’s looking at whatever’s in that folder, as though trying to make sense of what it tells her about me…

Finally she pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me.

“This is your schedule,” she says. “Let them know you’re new. And the proper paperwork will be filled out later. Looks like you’re meeting with Jennifer Thomas for tutoring? You have the same homeroom, the library. There’s still a few minutes left before she goes to her next class. Would you like me to take you to the library to meet her?”

I force my lips into something resembling a smile. “That would be nice, thank you.” I feel strange, like someone else is in my body. I don’t belong here, and I can’t help but feel like this lady knows it. What did it say in my file that made her get so quiet?

I pull the hem of my shirt down, like I’m trying to hide the ripped fishnets that expose who I really am. Even though I’m not wearing them, I can feel them.

The library is just down the hall, so it’s a very short trip. The smell of dust and stagnant air fills me as we enter the room. Brown stained carpet lines the short entrance to the library.

I follow the office lady straight to a table at the back, where an awkward-looking girl sits. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail and is still long enough to reach the thick black belt on her jeans. She’s very skinny, and even though she’s sitting, she seems like she’d be a few inches taller than me.

“Jen, this is Anna. She’s the new girl you’ll be tutoring.”

Her shoulders stay hunched over as she smiles. I sit in the chair next to the awkward girl, and she sends a quick smile to the office lady. “Thank you, Mrs. Norberry.”

Just then the bell rings.

“Well then,” Mrs. Norberry says. “I’ll leave you two alone. But hurry on or you’ll be late for class.”

She leaves the room, and now Jen and I are alone.

I try to breathe deeply as we look at each other in silence.

“Want me to show you where your first class is?” Jen says.

I’m the city girl. It should have been me who was brave enough to make the first move.