you were there, that if you touched the tree's bark, February's cold and damp would seep into

your skin. Now, he was an artist. Unfortunately, he was also an antisocial jerk.

Was it possible for a person to have talent and a normal social life?

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Maybe the real question was: Why am I, who has neither, fantasizing about having both?

When I got to the cafeteria on Friday, the sandwiches weren't out yet, which meant I had to stand

alone waiting by the cash register for about ten years. I tried to cultivate a cool, disinterested

demeanor, as if I were so above high school I didn't even know I attended one. I'm actually deep

in thought about extremely important intellectual trends. Even if you tried to approach me, I

probably wouldn't respond. When the cafeteria lady finally dumped a pile of sandwiches into the

basket, I just grabbed one, not bothering to check its contents, threw some money in her

direction, and raced toward the door.

I was halfway to freedom when I heard my name being called.

"Hello! Lucy Norton!" I looked around. Jessica Johnson and Madison Lawler were sitting at a

table, waving frantically in my direction.

For a split second I considered pointing to myself and mouthing, "Who, me?" but considering

that A) I am not a character in a sitcom, and B) they were both staring directly at me while

Jessica yelled my full name, I chose instead to walk across the cafeteria to where they were

sitting. As soon as I got to the table, Jessica grabbed my arm so hard her nails dug into my skin.

"Hey," I said. My greeting was casual in spite of

37

Jessica's clutching at me like I was the only thing standing between her and a lifesaving organ

transplant.

"Can I just say that we thought you were never going to get here," said Jessica, pulling me toward her. She turned to Madison, who was nodding encouragingly. "Didn't I say, 'I'm totally

going to start searching for her if she doesn't show up soon'?" Madison kept nodding, her

ponytail following her head up and down, like punctuation.

"Oh," I said, though I considered asking, Do you possibly have me confused with someone else?

Madison expertly flicked a wisp of hair out of her face. Then she pointed at a chair across the

table from her. "Sit."

I pulled out the chair and sat, waiting for my next command. Bark! Roll over! Jessica raised her

eyebrows at me. "So," she said.

"So," I repeated.

"So," said Madison, "what fiery redhead who's new in the sophomore class has caught the eye of which--"

"Excuse me," said Jessica loudly, "I believe this is my little announcement." But Jessica didn't really seem to mind being interrupted. In fact, she smiled at Madison, and then both of them

giggled. The whole thing was starting to make me very, very nervous. I squeezed my mystery

sandwich, my hand sweaty against the Saran Wrap.

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"Okay," said Jessica, taking a deep breath. "Who is the cutest guy in the entire school? Hint: he's a senior and he's on the basketball team."

Was this a trick question? Both Dave and Matt were seniors. I decided to stall for time.

"Well, that's kind of subjective," I said carefully.

While Madison made a face (either because of my stalling or because she didn't know what

subjective meant), Jessica continued, "Does the name Connor Pearson mean anything to you?"

For a second I didn't say anything; I just opened and closed my mouth, like a fish. Then, as

calmly as I could, I repeated, "Connor Pearson?"

Jessica leaned back without saying a word and raised her eyebrows, first at me and then at

Madison. For a split second, I went cold with fear. Was this some elaborate, humiliating joke

they'd concocted? I stayed silent, trying to re-create the set of circumstances that would have

resulted in Madison and Jessica's deciding they wanted to take time out of their busy lives to

torment me, but it was impossible. Let's face it: if Madison had the creative energy to come up

with a scheme like the one I was imagining, she probably would have been in a more advanced

math class.

"What about Connor Pearson?" I asked, keeping my voice even. Maybe this was simply some

kind of Glen Lake High citizenship quiz. What is our school mascot? How would you get from

the science lab to the theater

39

without going through the lobby? Who is the cutest senior in the school?

Jessica shook her head, clearly bewildered by how difficult I was making this for everyone. Then

she reached across the table and touched my hand, like maybe physical contact could penetrate

my obtuseness. "How about this about Connor Pearson." She paused dramatically and squeezed my fingers. "Connor Pearson likes ... drumroll, please ..." She turned to make sure Madison was

staring at her as intently as I was before turning back to me. "Lucy Norton."

A warm tingly sensation started in my head and proceeded to make its way down my body.

Unlike most redheads, I don't have freckles and I don't blush--at least on the outside. But I could

feel myself growing warmer; a trickle of sweat formed underneath my bra strap, and the

sandwich almost slipped out of my hand.

Madison turned to Jessica. "She's speechless," she announced, grinning.

Jessica was grinning, too. "I told you she would be." She raised her eyebrows at Madison before

turning back to me. "Connor told Dave to tell me to tell you that you should come to the game

tonight. He said he thinks--" she paused to make eye contact with both of us, "you're cool."

My heart was pounding and something was suddenly wrong with my head, which seemed to be

floating somewhere high above my body.

40

I cleared my throat. "Doesn't he, um, like, go out with Kathryn Ford?"

Jessica made a face as if I'd suggested Connor went out with Dave. "They're just friends," she

said.

"Yeah," said Madison, waving my idea away like so much annoying cigarette smoke. "They're

just friends."

We all sat there for a second, digesting this piece of information. Then Jessica touched my hand

again and nodded enthusiastically. "So I say you should come to the game with us."

Madison's head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, Lucy. Come to the game tonight."

My brain was continuing to malfunction; I could see their lips move, but I could barely make out

what they were saying. "Um, sorry, did you say tonight?" My mouth was so dry I had to peel my

lips apart between words.

Jessica's smile turned to a grimace. "Whatever other plans you have, you have to cancel them."

Other plans? I almost laughed. When was the last time I'd had other plans?

Was this actually happening? Was I actually being invited to a basketball game by the hottest

guy at Glen Lake? It was almost as if--

"Oh my god," I said out loud. Because all of a sudden, staring across the table at Madison, the

truth hit me so hard I practically felt it smack me right between the eyes.

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Prince Charming was requesting my presence tonight.

Jessica, misunderstanding my epiphany, shrieked, "I know!" Then she stretched her hands out, one toward Madison, the other toward me. "So are you coming?" she asked.