e； and I straightened out my focus for the
rest of the day。 The last thing I needed was to be
scorched by the likes of Darla Tressler。
That night I was doing my homework； and just to prove to myself that I'd been wrong； I pulled
that newspaper article out of my trash can。 And as
I'm flipping it over； I'm telling myself； It's a distortion of reality； it's my imagination； she doesn't
really look like that…。
But there she was。 The girl in my math class； two rows over and one seat up； glowing
through newsprint。
Lyta barged in。 “I need your sharpener；” she said。
I slammed my binder closed over the paper and said； “You're supposed to knock！” And then；
since she was zooming in and the paper was still
sticking out； I crammed the binder into my backpack as fast as I could。
“What are you trying to hide there； baby brother？”
“Nothing； and stop calling me that！ And don't barge into my room anymore！”
“Give me your sharpener and I'm history；” she said with her hand out。
I dug it out of my drawer and tossed it at her； and sure enough； she disappeared。
……… Page 55………
But two seconds later my mom was calling for me； and after that； well； I forgot that the paper
was in my binder。
Until first period the next morning； that is。 Man！ What was I supposed to do with it？ I couldn't
get up and throw it out； Garrett was right there。
Besides that； Darla Tressler's in that class； and I could tell — she was keeping an eye out for
wayward bees。 If she caught wind of this； I'd be the
one stung。
Then Garrett reaches over to snag a piece of paper like he does about fourteen times a day；
only I have a plete mental spaz and sl