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