My shoes squeaked so freaking loud as I hurried down the hallway. I was trying to balance stealth and speed—if I was lucky, Ms. Moore would still be writing the warm-up on the board with her back to the room and I could sneak in unnoticed. Tiptoeing as I neared the open door, I peered in and saw I was still in luck—she was only halfway through the first problem.
Of course, half the class turned to me as I snuck in as quietly as I could, and I prayed that no one said anything. No one wanted to be known as a snitch, so that usually worked in my favor when my stupid brother made me late to school. He needed to keep better track of time at his morning surf sessions.
I made a beeline for my best friend’s bright red hair. Chelsea had saved me a seat. I mouthed a thank-you as I slid into the chair, but I winced when I heard snickering behind me.
Naomi and her little posse, Leah and Hannah, just had to be sitting right behind us. For whatever reason, Naomi decided in sixth grade she hated me, and, well, the girl was dedicated, to say the least.
“I sat here specifically because that seat was empty at the start of class,” she whined loudly. “Now I can barely see the board around someone’s big hair.”
Face on fire, I shrank down in my seat. Naomi was a jerk and a liar—sure, my hair was poofy today, but I’d slicked it back into a low ponytail at the back of my neck, so there was no way it was in her way. She just wanted someone to pick on.
Chelsea turned to me and whispered, “Ignore her,” and I tried, but she wasn’t talking for my benefit.
Ms. Moore turned from the board and pinned me with an iron stare. “So nice of you to join us, Luna. I’m glad my class warranted an appearance on your busy schedule,” she said wryly, and now the whole class was giggling. Great.
I sank down lower in my seat just for Naomi to scoff and mutter, “Ugh, can you get your hair off my desk? I don’t know where you’ve been.”
I jerked upright. At times like this, I really wished I could just disappear. I sighed and started scribbling the warm-up in my notebook as Ms. Moore started passing back our tests from earlier in the week.
When she turned down my row, I held my breath. I watched the smart kid, Alex, for his reaction—if he wasn’t happy with his grade, there was no way I passed, but his quiet hiss of “Yes!” let me know I at least had a chance.
Math was so not my subject. English was my subject. Give me words that made sense any day over numbers with their own rules. But I had studied so hard, so maybe I had been able to pull this one off.
My hopes were dashed as soon as Ms. Moore placed my test on my desk and I saw the glaring red D at the top.
Ms. Moore pointed discreetly to the note beside the letter, like I’d somehow miss the damning, Be sure to schedule your retake this week, scrawled across the top. I sighed. Could this day get any worse?
***
Turned out, it totally could. I managed to rip my history paper in half right before turning it in, and Mr. Brown was not happy with my rushed tape job. Of course Naomi was in that class, too, and she saw the whole thing.
I managed to leave my lunch at home, and my wallet, so I didn’t have money to buy lunch. Luckily, Chelsea came through and shared half of her food with me. But that was the highlight of my day. Immediately after, the kid next to me in study hall spilled his water bottle, and my bag spent the hour soaking it up, so now I had to drag it by my side or risk soaking my back.
Thankfully, classes ended for the day, and I was on my way to Harbor Happenins—the school paper. Writing was my forte, and I was pretty proud of the last article I’d turned in. Hopefully it made a good impression—that was the first step to making editor next year. But that was asking for a lot when our current editor was Olivia.
Olivia was the school’s darling, the prettiest, most popular, most accomplished student, and I couldn’t even hate her because she was so dang nice. She wasn’t your typical popular mean girl. I’d never heard her say a bad word about anyone. Not that we talked much—every time I got around her, I got so nervous I just word-vomited everywhere.
But not today. Today, I had a list I’d made of the best story ideas I could think of. While everyone else chatted, bouncing ideas off each other, I ran through my list in my head. And then, the room went silent.
I sat up straighter—Olivia was here.
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