ALSOBYR.J.PALACIO

WonderTheJulianChapter

Pluto365DaysofWonder

THISISABORZOIBOOKPUBLISHEDBYALFREDA.KNOPF

Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.

Textcopyright©2015byR.J.PalacioCoverart©2015byTadCarpenter

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Contents

CoverAlsobyR.J.PalacioTitlePageCopyrightEpigraph

HowIWalkedtoSchoolHowISpentMyWinterVacationHowtheBoyWarStartedHowIStayedNeutralHowIWantedtoTellEllieAboutMyTalkwithJackWillHowtoUseVennDiagrams(Part1)HowIContinuedtoStayNeutralHow(andWhy)ILovetoDanceHowMrs.AtanabiIntroducedHerDanceHowtoUseVennDiagrams(Part2)HowaNewSubgroupWasFormedHowISawSavannaHowWeGotOfftoanAwkwardStartHowNobodyGetsMadattheLavenderFairyHowIReceivedMyFirstSurpriseoftheDayHowWeWenttoNarniaHowIReceivedMySecondSurpriseoftheDayHowWeGottoKnowEachOtherBetterHowIPreferHappyEndingsHowIDiscoveredSomethingAboutMayaHowFebruaryMadeUsMoney,Too!HowXimenaMadeaDiscoveryHowWeTextedHowWeWenttoXimenaChin’sHouseHowWePlayedTruthorDareHowOurVennDiagramsLookHowWeNeverTalkedAboutItHowIFailedtoPreventaSocialCatastropheHowIStayedNeutral—AgainHowXimenaReacted

HowMrs.AtanabiWishedUsWellHowWeDancedHowWeSpenttheRestoftheNightHowIFellAsleep—Finally!HowMayaWasSurprisedandSurprisedUsAllHowSomeThingsChanged,andSomeThingsDidn’tHowITalkedtoMr.TushmanHowXimenaRockedHerSpeechHowIFinallyIntroducedMyself

ButeverySpringItgrowethyoungagain,Andfairiessing.

—FlowerFairiesoftheSpring,1923

NobodycandotheshingalinglikeIdo.—TheIsleyBrothers,“NobodybutMe”

HowIWalkedtoSchoolTherewasablindoldmanwhoplayedtheaccordiononMainStreet,whoIusedtoseeeverydayonmyway to school. He sat on a stool under the awning of the A&P supermarket on the corner ofMooreAvenue,hisseeing-eyedoglyingdowninfrontofhimonablanket.Thedogworearedbandannaarounditsneck.ItwasablackLabrador.IknowbecausemysisterBeatrixaskedhimoneday.“Excuseme,sir.Whatkindofdogisthat?”“JoniisablackLabrador,missy,”heanswered.“She’sreallycute.CanIpether?”“Bestnot.She’sworkingrightnow.”“Okay,thankyou.Haveagooddaynow.”“Bye,missy.”Mysisterwavedathim.Hehadnowayofknowingthis,ofcourse,sohedidn’twaveback.Beatrixwaseight then. Iknowbecause itwasmy firstyearatBeecherPrep,whichmeans Iwas in

kindergarten.Inevertalkedtotheaccordion-manmyself.Ihatetoadmitit,butIwaskindofafraidofhimbackthen.

His eyes, which were always open, were kind of glazed and cloudy. They were cream-colored, andlookedlikewhite-and-tanmarbles.Itspookedme.Iwasevenalittleafraidofhisdog,whichreallymadenosensebecauseIusuallylovedogs.Imean,Ihaveadog!ButIwasafraidofhisdog,whohadagraymuzzleandwhoseeyeswerekindofgloopy,too.But—andhere’sabigbut—eventhoughIwasafraidofbothofthem,theaccordion-manandhisdog,Ialwaysdroppedadollarbillintotheopenaccordioncaseinfrontofthem.Andsomehow,eventhoughhewasplayingtheaccordion,andnomatterhowquietlyIcreptover,theaccordion-manwouldalwaysheartheswooshofthedollarbillasitfellintotheaccordioncase.“GodblessAmerica,”hewouldsaytotheair,noddinginmydirection.Thatalwaysmademewonder.Howcouldhehearthat?Howdidheknowwhatdirectiontonodat?Mymomexplainedthatblindpeopledeveloptheirothersensestomakeupforthesensethey’velost.

So,becausehewasblind,hehadsuperhearing.That,ofcourse,gotmewonderingifhehadothersuperpowers, too.Like, in thewinterwhenitwas

freezingcold,didhisfingershaveamagicalwayofkeepingwarmwhiletheypressedthekeys?Andhowdid the rest of him staywarm?On those really frigid dayswhenmy teethwould start to chatter afterwalking just a fewblocks against the icywind, howdid he staywarm enough to play his accordion?Sometimes, I’devensee little riversof ice forming inpartsofhismustacheandbeard,or I’dseehimreachdowntomakesurehisdogwascoveredbytheblanket.SoIknewhefeltthecold,buthowdidhekeepplaying?Ifthat’snotasuperpower,Idon’tknowwhatis!Inthewintertime,Ialwaysaskedmymomfor twodollars todropintohisaccordioncaseinsteadof

justone.Swoosh.Swoosh.

“GodblessAmerica.”Heplayedthesameeightortensongsallthetime.ExceptatChristmastime,whenhe’dplay“Rudolph

theRed-NosedReindeer”and“Hark!TheHeraldAngelsSing.”Butotherwise,itwasthesamesongs.Mymomknewthenamesofsomeofthem.“Delilah.”“Lara’sTheme.”“ThoseWeretheDays.”Idownloadedallthetitlesshenamed,andshewasright,thosewerethesongs.Butwhyjustthosesongs?Weretheytheonlysongsheeverlearnedtoplay,orweretheytheonlysongsheremembered?Ordidheknowawholebunchofothersongs,butchosetoplayjustthosesongs?Andallthatwonderinggotmewonderingevenmore!Whendidhelearntoplaytheaccordion?When

hewasalittleboy?Couldheseebackthen?Ifhecouldn’tsee,howcouldhereadmusic?Wheredidhegrowup?Wheredidhelivewhenhewasn’tonthecornerofMainStreetandMooreAvenue?Isawhimandhisdogwalkingtogethersometimes,hisrighthandholdingthedog’sharnessandhislefthandholdingtheaccordioncase.Theymovedsoslowly!Itdidn’tseemliketheycouldgetveryfar.Sowheredidtheygo?TherewerealotofquestionsIwouldhaveaskedhimifIhadn’tbeenafraidofhim.ButIneverasked.

Ijustgavehimone-dollarbills.Swoosh.“GodblessAmerica.”Itwasalwaysthesame.Then,whenIgotolderandwasn’tthatafraidofhimanymore,thequestionsIusedtohaveabouthim

didn’tseemtomatterasmuchtome.IguessIgotsoaccustomedtoseeinghim,Ididn’treallythinkabouthisfoggyeyesorifhehadsuperpowers.It’snotlikeIstoppedgivinghimadollarwhenIpassedbyhimoranything.Butitwasmorelikeahabitnow,likeswipingaMetroCardthroughasubwayturnstile.Swoosh.“GodblessAmerica.”BythetimeIstartedfifthgrade,IstoppedseeinghimcompletelybecauseInolongerwalkedpasthim

onmywaytoschool.TheBeecherPrepmiddleschoolisafewblocksclosertomyhousethanthelowerschoolwas,sonowIwalk to schoolwithBeatrixandmyoldest sister,Aimee,and Iwalkhome fromschoolwithmybestfriend,Ellie,aswellasMayaandLina,wholivenearme.Onceinawhile,atthebeginningoftheschoolyear,wewouldgogetsnacksattheA&Pafterschoolbeforeheadinghome,andI’d see the accordion-man and give him a dollar and hear him blessAmerica.But as theweather gotcolder,wedidn’tdothatasmuch.Whichiswhyitwasn’tuntilafewdaysintowinterbreak,whenIwenttotheA&Pwithmymomoneafternoon,thatIrealizedthattheblindoldmanwhoplayedtheaccordiononMainStreetwasn’tthereanymore.Hewasgone.

HowISpentMyWinterVacationPeoplewhoknowmealwayssayI’msodramatic.Ihavenoideawhytheysaythat,becauseI’mreally,really,reallynotdramatic.ButwhenIfoundouttheaccordion-manwasgone,Ikindoflost it!Ireallydon’tknowwhy,butIjustcouldn’tstopobsessingaboutwhathadhappenedtohim.ItwaslikeamysterythatIhadtosolve!WhatintheworldhappenedtotheblindoldmanwhoplayedtheaccordiononMainStreet?Nobody seemed to know.Mymom and I asked the cashiers in the supermarket, the lady in the dry

cleaner’s,andthemanintheeyeshopacrossthestreetiftheyknewanythingabouthim.Weevenaskedthepolicemanwhogaveoutparkingticketsonthatblock.Everyoneknewwhohewas,butnooneknewwhathadhappenedtohim, just thatoneday—poof!—hewasn’t thereanymore.Thepoliceman toldmethatonreallycolddays,homelesspeopleareactually taken to thecitysheltersso theywon’t freeze todeath.Hethoughtthat’sprobablywhathappenedtotheaccordion-man.Butthedry-cleaningladysaidthatshe knew for a fact that the accordion-man wasn’t homeless. She thought he lived somewhere up inRiverdalebecauseshe’dseehimgettingofftheBx3busearlyinthemorningswithhisdog.Andtheeye-shopmansaidthathewascertainthattheaccordion-manhadbeenafamousjazzmusicianonceandwasactuallyloaded,soIshouldn’tworryabouthim.Youwouldthinktheseanswerswouldhavehelpedme,right?Buttheydidn’t!Theyjustraisedawhole

bunchofotherquestionsthatmademeevenmorecuriousabouthim.Like,washeinahomelessshelterforthewinter?WashelivinginhisownbeautifulhouseinRiverdale?Hadhereallybeenafamousjazzmusician?Washerich?Ifhewasrich,whywasheplayingformoney?Mywholefamilygotsickandtiredofmytalkingaboutthis,bytheway.Beatrixwaslike:“Charlotte,ifyoutalkaboutthisonemoretime,I’mgoingtothrowupalloveryou!”AndAimeesaid,“Charlotte,willyoujustdropitalready?”Mymom’s theonewho suggested that agoodway to “channel”myenergywouldbe to start a coat

drive in our neighborhood to benefit homeless people.We put up flyers asking people to donate their“gentlyworn”coatsbydroppingthemoffinplasticbagsinagiantbinweleftinfrontofourbrownstone.Then,afterwe’dcollectedabouttenhugegarbagebagsfullofcoats,mymomanddadandIdroveallthewaydowntownto theBoweryMission todonate thecoats. Ihave tosay, it felt reallygood togiveallthosecoats topeoplewhoreallyneededthem!I lookedaroundwhenIwasinsidethemissionwithmyparentstoseeifmaybetheaccordion-manwasthere,buthewasn’t.Anyway,Iknewhehadanicecoatalready:abrightorangeCanadaGooseparkathatmademymomhopefulthattherumorsabouthisbeingrichmightactuallybetrue.“Youdon’tseemanyhomelesspeoplewearingCanadaGoose,”observedMom.WhenIgotbacktoschoolafterwinterbreak,Mr.Tushman,themiddleschooldirector,congratulated

meonhavingstartedacoatdrive.I’mnotsurehowheknew,butheknew.ItwasgenerallyagreeduponthatMr. Tushman had some kind of secret surveillance drone keeping tabs on everything going on atBeecherPrep:therewasnootherwayhecouldknowallthestuffheseemedtoknow.“That’sabeautifulwaytospendyourwintervacation,Charlotte,”hesaid.

“Aw,thankyou,Mr.Tushman!”IlovedMr.Tushman.Hewasalwaysreallynice.WhatIlikedwasthathewasoneofthoseteachers

thatnever talks toyou likeyou’re some littlekid.Healwaysusesbigwords, assumingyouknowandunderstand them, and he never looks away when you’re talking to him. I also loved that he woresuspendersandabowtieandbrightredsneakers.“DoyouthinkyoucouldhelpmeorganizeacoatdrivehereatBeecherPrep?”heasked.“Nowthat

you’reanexpertatit,Iwouldloveyourinput.”“Sure!”Ianswered.WhichishowIendedupbeingpartofthefirstannualBeecherPrepCoatDrive.Inanycase,betweenthecoatdriveandall theotherdramagoingonatschoolwhenIgotbackfrom

wintervacation(moreonthatsoon!),Ididn’treallygetachancetosolvethemysteryofwhathappenedtotheblindoldmanwhoplayedtheaccordiononMainStreet.Elliedidn’tseemtheleastbitinterestedinhelpingme solve themystery, though itwas the kindof thing that shemight have been into just a fewmonthsbefore.AndneitherMayanorLinaseemedtorememberhimatall.Infact,nooneseemedtocareaboutwhathappenedtohimintheleast,sofinally,Ijustdroppedthesubject.Istillthoughtabouttheaccordion-mansometimes,though.Everyonceinawhile,oneofthesongshe

usedtoplayonhisaccordionwouldcomebacktome.AndthenI’dhumitalldaylong.

HowtheBoyWarStartedThe only thing everybody could talk aboutwhenwe got back fromwinter breakwas “thewar,” alsoreferredtoas“theboywar.”Thewholethingstartedrightbeforewinterbreak.Afewdaysbeforerecess,JackWillhadgotten suspended forpunching JulianAlbans in themouth.Talkaboutdrama! Everyonewasgossipingaboutit.ButnooneknewexactlywhyJackdidit.MostpeoplethoughtithadsomethingtodowithAuggiePullman.Toexplainthatabit,youhavetoknowthatAuggiePullmanis thiskidatourschoolwhowasbornwithveryseverefacialissues.Andbysevere,Imeansevere.Like,really severe.Noneofhisfeaturesarewherethey’resupposedtobe.Andit’skindofshockingwhenyouseehimatfirstbecause it’s like he’s wearing a mask or something. So when he started at Beecher Prep, everybodynoticedhim.Hewasimpossiblenottonotice.A few people—like Jack andSummer andme—were nice to him from the beginning. Like,when I

wouldpasshiminthehall,I’dalwayssay,“Hey,Auggie,how’reyoudoing?”andstufflikethat.Now,sure,partofthatwasbecauseMr.TushmanhadaskedmetobeawelcomebuddytoAuggiebeforeschoolhadstarted,butIwouldhavebeennicetohimevenifhehadn’taskedmetodothat.Most people, though—like Julian and his group—were not at all nice to Auggie, especially in the

beginning. I don’t thinkpeoplewere even trying to bemeannecessarily. I think theywere just a littleweirdedoutbyhis face, isall.Theysaidstupid thingsbehindhisback.CalledhimFreak.Played thisgame called The Plague, which I did not participate in, by the way! (If I’ve never touched AuggiePullman,it’sonlybecauseI’veneverhadareasonto—that’sall!)Nobodyeverwantedtohangoutwithhimor get partnered upwith himon a class project.At least in the beginning of the year.But after acoupleofmonths,peopledidstartgettingusedtohim.Notthattheywerereallyniceoranything,butatleasttheystoppedbeingmean.Everyone,thatis,exceptforJulian,whocontinuedtomakesuchabigdealabouthim!It’slikehecouldn’tgetoverthefactthatAuggielooksthewayhelooks!Asifthepoorguycouldhelpit,right?Anyway,sowhateveryonethinkshappenedisthatJuliansaidsomethinghorribleaboutAuggietoJack.

AndJack—beingagoodfriend—punchedJulian.Boom.AndthenJackgotsuspended.Boom.Andnowhe’sbackfromsuspension!Boom!Andthat’sthedrama!Butthat’snotallthereistoit!Becausethenwhathappenedisthis:overwinterbreak,Julianhadthishugepartyand,basically,turned

everyone in the fifthgradeagainst Jack.Hespread this rumor that theschoolpsychologisthad toldhismomthatJackwasemotionallyunstable.AndthatthepressureofbeingfriendswithAuggiehadmadehimsnapandturnintoanangrymaniac.Crazystuff!Ofcourse,noneofitwastrue,andmostpeopleknewthat,butitdidn’tstopJulianfromspreadingthatlie.Andnowtheboysareallinthiswar.Andthat’showitstarted.Andit’ssostupid!

HowIStayedNeutralIknowonethingpeoplesayaboutmeis thatI’magoodytwo-shoes.Ihavenoideawhytheysaythat.BecauseI’mreallynotthatmuchofagoodytwo-shoes.ButI’malsonotsomeonewho’sgoingtobemeantosomeone justbecausesomeoneelsesaysIshouldbemean to them.Ihatewhenpeopledostuff likethat.So,whenall theboysstartedgivingJack thecoldshoulder,andJackdidn’tknowwhy, I thought the

leastIcoulddowastellhimwhatwasgoingon.Imean,I’veknownJacksincewewereinkindergarten.He’sagoodkid!Thethingis,Ididn’twantanyonetoseemetalkingtohim.Someofthegirls,likeSavanna’sgroup,had

startedtakingsideswiththeJulianboys,andIreallywantedtostayneutralbecauseIdidn’twantanyofthemtogetmadatme.Iwasstillhopingthatmaybe,oneofthesedays,I’dworkmywayintothatgroupmyself.ThelastthingIwantedwastodoanythingtomessupmychanceswiththem.So,onedayrightbeforelastperiod,IslippedJackanotetomeetmeinroom301afterschool.Which

hedid.AndthenItoldhimeverythingthatwasgoingon.YoushouldhaveseenJack’sface!Itwasbrightred!Seriously!Thepoorkid!Weprettymuchagreedthatthiswholethingwassomessedup!Ireallyfeltsorryforhim.Then,afterweweredonetalking,Isneakedoutoftheroomwithoutanyoneseeingme.

HowIWantedtoTellEllieAboutMyTalkwithJackWill

Atlunchthenextday,IwasgoingtotellElliethatI’dtalkedtoJack.EllieandIbothhadhadatinysecretcrushonJackWillgoingbacktothefourthgrade,whenheplayedtheArtfulDodgerinOliver!andwethoughthelookedadorableinatophat.Iwentovertoherwhenshewasemptyingherlunchtray.Wedon’tsitatthesamelunchtableanymore,

eversincesheswitchedtoSavanna’slunchtablearoundHalloween.ButIstilltrustedEllie.We’vebeenBFFssincefirstgrade!Thatcountsforalot!“Hey,”Isaid,nudgingintoherwithmyshoulder.“Hey!”shesaid,nudgingmeback.“Whyweren’tyouinchorusyesterday?”“Oh,didn’t I tellyou?”shesaid.“I switchedelectiveswhen Icameback fromwinterbreak. I’m in

bandnow.”“Band?Seriously?”Isaid.“I’mplayingtheclarinet!”sheanswered.“Wow,”Isaid,nodding.“Sweet.”Thisbitofnewswasreallysurprisingtome,foralotofreasons.“Anyhow,what’supwithyou,Charly?”shesaid.“IfeellikeI’vehardlyseenyousincewegotback

fromwinterbreak!”Shepickedupmywristtoinspectmynewbangle.“Iknow, right?” Ianswered, thoughIdidn’tpointout that thatwasbecauseshehadcanceledonme

everysingletimewe’dmadeplanstohangoutafterschool.“How’sMaya’sdotstournamentgoing?”ShewasreferringtoMaya’sobsessionwithmakingtheworld’slargestdotgametoplayatlunchtime.

Wekindofmadefunofitbehindherback.“Good,”Ianswered,smiling.“Ikeepmeaningtoaskyouaboutthiswholeboy-warthing.It’ssolame,

isn’tit?”Sherolledhereyes.“It’stotallyoutofcontrol!”“Right?”Isaid.“IfeelkindofsorryforJack.Don’tyouthinkJulianshouldjustcallitquitsalready?”Elliestartedtwistingastrandofhairaroundherfinger.Shetookafreshjuiceboxoffthecounterand

poppedthestrawintothehole.“Idon’tknow,Charly,”sheanswered.“Jack’stheonewhopunchedhiminthemouth.Julianhaseveryrighttobemad.”Shetookalongsip.“I’mactuallystartingtothinkthatJackhasseriousanger-managementissues.”Holdup.What? I’veknownElliesinceforever,and theEllie Iknowwouldneveruseaphrase like

“anger-management issues.” Not that Ellie isn’t smart, but she’s not that smart. Anger-managementissues?That soundedmore like somethingXimenaChinwould say in that sarcasticwayofhers.Ever

sinceElliehadstartedhangingoutwithXimenaandSavanna,she’sbeenactingweirderandweirder!Waitaminute!Ijustrememberedsomething:Ximenaplaysclarinet!ThatexplainswhyEllieswitched

electives!Nowit’sallmakingsense!“Eitherway,”saidEllie,“Idon’tthinkweshouldgetinvolved.It’saboything.”“Yeah,whatever,”Ianswered,decidingitwasbetterifIdidn’ttellEllieIhadspokenwithJack.“Soareyoureadyforthedancetryoutstoday?”sheaskedcheerfully.“Yeah,”Ianswered,pretendingtogetexcited.“IthinkMrs.Atanabiis—”“Ready,Ellie?”saidXimenaChin,whohadjustappearedoutofnowhere.Shenoddedaquickhello

mywaywithoutreallylookingatme,andthenturnedaroundandheadedtothelunchroomexit.Elliedroppedherunfinishedjuiceboxintothetrashcan,clumsilyheavedherbackpackontoherright

shoulder,andtrottedafterXimena.“Seeyoulater,Charly!”shemumbledhalfwayacrossthelunchroom.“Later,”Ianswered,watchinghercatchuptoXimena.Together,theyjoinedSavannaandGretchen,a

sixthgrader,whowerewaitingforthembytheexit.Thefourofthemwereallaboutthesameheight,andtheyallhadsuper-longhair,withwavycurlsatthe

ends. Their hair colors were different, though. Savanna’s was golden blond. Ximena’s was black.Gretchen’swas red.AndEllie’swasbrown. Iactuallywonderedsometimes ifElliehadn’tgotten intothatpopulargroupbecauseofherhair,whichwasjusttherightcolorandlengthtofitin.Myhair iswhite-blond, and so straightand flat, there’snoway itwouldeverend inacurlwithout

massivedosesofhairspray.Andit’sshort.Likeme.

HowtoUseVennDiagrams(Part1)In Ms. Rubin’s science class, we learned about Venn diagrams. You draw Venn diagrams to see therelationships between different groups of things. Like, if you want to see the common characteristicsbetweenmammals,reptiles,andfish,forinstance,youdrawaVenndiagramandlistalltheattributesofeach one inside a circle. Where the circles intersect is what they have in common. In the case ofmammals,reptiles,andfish,itwouldbethattheyallhavebackbones.

Anyway,IloveVenndiagrams.They’resousefulforexplainingsomanythings.Isometimesdrawthemtoexplainfriendships.

Ellieandmeinfirstgrade.

Asyoucansee,EllieandIhadalotincommon.We’vebeenfriendssincethefirstdayoffirstgrade,whenMs.Diamondputusbothatthesametable.Irememberthatdayveryclearly.IkepttryingtotalktoEllie,butshewasshyanddidn’twanttotalk.Then,atsnacktime,Istartedice-skatingwithmyfingersonthetopofthedeskweshared.Ifyoudon’tknowwhatthatis,it’swhenyoumakeanupside-downpeacesignandletyourfingersglideovertheglossydesk,liketheywerefigureskaters.Anyway,Elliewatchedmedothatforalittlewhile,andthenshestartedice-skatingwithherfingers,too.Prettysoon,wewerebothmakingfigureeightsalloverthedesk.Afterthat,wewereinseparable.

Ellieandmenow.

HowIContinuedtoStayNeutralEllie,Savanna,andXimenawerehangingoutinfrontofthelockersoutsidetheperformancespacewhenIshowedupforthedancetryoutsafterschool.Iknewthemomenttheylookedatmethatthey’djustbeentalkingaboutme.“You’re not really taking Jack’s side in the boy war, are you?” said Savanna, making an eww

expressionwithherlips.IglancedatEllie,whohadobviouslysharedsomeofmylunchconversationwithSavannaandXimena.

Shechewedastrandofhairandlookedaway.“I’mnotonJack’sside,”Isaidcalmly.Ipoppedopenmylockerandshovedmybackpackinside.“All

IsaidisthatIthinkthiswholeboy-warthingisdumb.Alltheboysarejustbeingsojerky.”“Yeah,butJackstartedit,”saidSavanna.“Orareyousayingit’sokaythathepunchedJulian?”“No,it’sdefinitelynotokaythathedidthat,”Ianswered,pullingoutmydancegear.“Sohowcouldyoubeon Jack’s side?”Savannaaskedquickly, stillmaking thateww facewith her

mouth.“Isitbecauseyoulikehim?”askedXimena,smilingmischievously.Ximena,whoprobablyhasn’t saidmore than thirtywords tomeallyear long, isaskingme if I like

Jack?“No,”Ianswered,butIcouldfeelmyearsturningred.IglancedupatEllieasIsatdowntoputonmy

jazzsneakers.Shewastwirlingyetanotherpartofherhairinpreparationforputtingitintohermouth.Ican’tbelieveshetoldthemaboutJack!Whatatraitor!At thatmoment,Mrs.Atanabi came into the room, clapping toget everyone’s attention inherusual,

theatricalway.“Okay,girls,ifyouhaven’tsignedyournameonthetryoutsheet,pleasedosonow,”shesaid,pointingtotheclipboardonthetablenexttoher.Therewereabouteightothergirlsstandinginlinetosign in.“Andifyou’vealreadysignedin,please takeaspoton thedancefloorandstartdoingyourstretches.”“I’llsigninforyou,”XimenasaidtoSavanna,walkingovertothetable.“Doyouwantmetosigninforyou,Charly?”Ellieaskedme.Iknewthatwasherwayofcheckingto

seeifIwasmadather.WhichIwas!“Ialreadysignedin,”Iansweredquietly,notlookingather.“Ofcourseshesignedin,”Savannasaidquickly,rollinghereyes.“Charlotte’salwaysthefirsttosign

in.”

How(andWhy)ILovetoDanceI’ve been taking dance lessons since Iwas four. Ballet. Tap. Jazz.Not because Iwant to be a primaballerinawhenIgrowup,butbecauseI intendonbecomingaBroadwaystarsomeday.Todothat,youreally have to learn how to sing and dance and perform.Which iswhy Iwork so hard onmy dancelessons.Andmysinginglessons.Itakethemveryseriously,becauseIknowthatsomeday,whenIgetmybigbreak,I’llbereadyforit.AndwhywillIbereadyforit?BecauseI’veworkedhardforit—mywholelife! People seem to think that Broadway stars just come out of nowhere—but that’s not true! Theypracticeuntiltheirfeethurt!Theyrehearselikemaniacs!Ifyouwanttobeastar,youhavetobewillingtoworkharder thaneveryoneelse toachieveyourgoalsanddreams!ThewayI see it,adreamis likeadrawinginyourheadthatcomestolife.Youhavetoimagineitfirst.Thenyouhavetoworkextremelyhardtomakeitcometrue.So, when Savanna says, “Charlotte’s always the first to sign in,” on the one hand it’s kind of a

complimentbecauseshe’ssaying,“Charlotte’salwaysontopofthings,whichiswhyherhardworkpaysoffforher.”Butwhenshesays,“Charlotte’salwaysthefirsttosignin,”withthatewwexpressiononherface, it’smorelikeshe’ssaying,“Charlotteonlygetswhatshewantsbecauseshe’sfirst inline.”Oratleastthat’swhatIhear.Aput-down.Savanna’s reallygoodat thosekindsofput-downs,where it’s all in the eyes and the cornersof the

mouth.It’stoobad,becauseshedidn’tusedtobelikethat.Inlowerschool,SavannaandEllieandmeandMayaandSummer:wewereall friends.Weplayed togetherafter school.Wehad teaparties. It’sonlybeensincewestartedmiddleschool—eversinceshegotpopular—thatSavanna’sbecomelessnicethansheusedtobe.

HowMrs.AtanabiIntroducedHerDance“Okay, ladies,” said Mrs. Atanabi, clapping her hands and motioning for us to walk toward her,“everybodyonthedancefloor,please!Takeyourpositions.Everybodyspreadout.Sowhatwe’regoingtodotodayis,I’mgoingtoshowyouacoupleofdifferentdancesfromthesixtiesthatI’dlikeyoutotry.Thetwist.TheHullyGully.Andthemambo.Justthosethree.Soundgood?”IhadtakenupapositionbehindSummer,whosmiledandwavedoneofhercutehappyhellosatme.

WhenIwaslittleandstillintoFlowerFairies,IusedtothinkthatSummerDawsonlookedexactlyliketheLavenderFairy.Likesheshouldhavebeenbornwithvioletwings.“Sincewhenhaveyoubeenintodance?”Iaskedher,becauseshehadneverbeenoneofthegirlsI’d

seeatdancerecitals.Summershruggedshyly.“Istartedtakingclassesthissummer.”“Sweet!”Ianswered,smilingencouragingly.“Mrs.Atanabi?”saidXimena,raisingherhand.“Whatisthisauditionevenfor?”“Oh my goodness!” answered Mrs. Atanabi, tapping her forehead with her fingers. “Of course. I

completelyforgottotellyouguyswhatwe’redoinghere.”I,personally,havealwayslovedMrs.Atanabi—withherlongflowydressesandscarvesandthemessy

bun.Ilovethatshealwayshasthebreathlessappearanceofsomeonewho’sjustcomebackfromagreatjourney.I like that.Buta lotofpeople thinkshe’sflakyandweird.Thewayshe throwsherheadbackwhen she laughs.Theway shemumbles toherself sometimes.Peoplehave said she looksexactly likeMrs. Puff in SpongeBob SquarePants. They call herMrs. Fatanabi behind her back, which I think isincrediblymean.“I’ve been asked to put together a dance piece to perform at the Beecher Prep Benefit Gala,” she

startedexplaining.“Whichisinmid-March.It’snotaperformancethatotherstudentswilleversee.It’sfor theparents, faculty, andalumni.But it’skindofabigdeal.They’rehaving it atCarnegieHall thisyear!”Everyonemadelittleexcitedchirpysounds.Mrs.Atanabilaughed.“Ithoughtyou’dalllikethat!”shesaid.“I’madaptingapieceIchoreographed

yearsago,whichhadgottenconsiderableattentionatthetime,Idon’tmindsaying.Anditshouldbealotoffun.Butitwilltakeplentyofwork!Whichremindsme:ifyou’rechosenforthisdance,itwillrequireabigtimecommitment!Iwanttobeclearaboutthatrightfromthestart,ladies.Ninetyminutesofrehearsal,afterschool,threetimesaweek.Fromnow,throughMarch.Soifyoucan’tcommittothat,don’teventryout.Okay?”“Butwhatifwehavesoccerpractice?”askedRuby,inthemiddleofaplié.“Ladies, sometimes in life you have to choose,” Mrs. Atanabi answered. “You can’t have soccer

practiceandbe in thisdance. It’sas simpleas that. Idon’twant tohearanyexcusesabouthomeworkassignments or tests or anything else. Even onemissed rehearsal is toomuch! Remember, this is notsomethingyou’rerequiredtodoforschool!Youdon’thavetobehere,girls.Youwon’tbegettingextra

credit.Iftheappealofdancingononeoftheworld’smostfamousstagesisn’tenoughforyou,thenpleasedon’ttryout.”Sheextendedherarmallthewayandpointedtotheexit.“Iwon’ttakeitpersonally.”Wealllookedateachother.RubyandJacquelinebothsmiledapologeticallyatMrs.Atanabi,waved

goodbye,andleft.Icouldn’tbelieveanyonewoulddothat!TogiveupthechancetodanceatCarnegieHall?That’sasfamousasBroadway!Mrs.Atanabiblinkedbutdidn’tsayanything.Thenshe rubbedherhead, likeshewaswardingoffa

headache.“Onelastthing,”shesaid.“Ifyou’renotselectedforthisparticularroutine,pleaserememberthere’sstillthebigdancenumberinthespringvarietyshow—andeveryonecandanceinthatone.Soifyoudon’tmakethisperformance,pleasedon’thaveyourmomemailme.Thereareonlyspotsforthreegirls.”“Onlythree?”criedEllie,coveringhermouthwithherhand.“Yes,onlythree,”Mrs.Atanabiresponded,soundingexactlylikeMrs.Puffsoundswhenshesays,Oh,

SpongeBob.IknewwhatElliewasthinking:Pleaseletitbeme,Ximena,andSavanna.But even as shewished that, sheprobablyknew itwasn’t going toworkout thatway.The thing is,

everybodyknows thatXimena is thebestdancer in thewhole school.Shegot selected for the summerintensivesattheSchoolofAmericanBallet.She’satthatlevel.SoitwasaprettysafebetthatXimenawouldmakeitin.AndeverybodyknowsthatSavannamadethefinalsintwodifferentregionalslastyear,andhadcome

closetoplacingatanational—sotherewasagoodchancethatshewouldmakeitin.Andeverybodyknowsthat…Well,nottobrag,butdanceiskindofmything,andIhaveabunchofhuge

trophiesonmyshelfthatproveit.Ellie,though?Sorry,butshe’sjustnotinthesameleagueaseitherXimenaorSavanna.Orme.Sure,

she’sbeenintodancealltheseyears,butshe’salwaysbeenkindoflazyaboutit.Idon’tknow,maybeiftherewereroomforfourgirls.Butnotiftherecanonlybethree.Nope,itseemedprettyclearasIlookedaroundtheroomatthecompetition:thefinalthreewouldbe

Ximena,Savanna.Andme!Sorry,Ellie!Andmaybe,justmaybe,thiswouldbemychancetofinallyworkmywayintotheSavannagroup,once

andforall.IcouldgobacktohavingEllieasmybestfriend.SavannacouldhaveXimena.Itcouldallworkout.Thetwist.TheHullyGully.Andthemambo.Gotit.

HowtoUseVennDiagrams(Part2)In middle school, your lunch table group isn’t always the same as your friend group. Like, it’s verypossible—infact, it’sprobable!—thatyoumayendupsittingatalunchtablewithabunchofgirlsthatyou’refriendswith—butwhoaren’tnecessarilyyour friend friends.Howyouendedupat that table iscompletelyrandom:Maybetherewasn’tenoughroomatthetablewiththegirlsyoureallywantedtositwith.Ormaybeyoujusthappenedtoendupwithagroupofgirlsbecauseoftheclassyouhadrightbeforelunch. That’s actually what happened to me. On the first day of school, Maya, Megan, Lina, Rand,Summer,Ellie,andIwereallinMs.Petosa’sadvancedmathclasstogether.Whenthelunchbellrang,weflewdownthestairsinabighuddle,notknowingexactlyhowtogettothecafeteria.Whenwefinallydidfind it, we all just sat down at a table in a pack. It was like we were playing musical chairs, witheveryonescrambling togetaseat.Therewereactuallyonlysupposed tobesixkids toa table,but thesevenofussqueezedinandmadeitwork.

Atfirst,Ithoughtitwasthegreatesttableinthewholelunchroom!IwassittingrightbetweenEllie,mybest friend from first grade, andMaya,my other best friend from lower school. Iwas sitting directlyacross from Summer andMegan, both of whom I knew from lower school, too, even if we weren’t

necessarily good friends.And I knew Lina from the Beecher Prep Summer Camp program. The onlypersonIdidn’tknowatallwasRand,butsheseemedniceenough.So,allinall,itlookedlikeatotallyawesomelunchtable!Butthen,thatveryfirstday,SummerswitchedtablestogositwithAuggiePullman.Itwassoshocking!

Onesecondwewereallsittingthere,talkingabouthim,watchinghimeathislunch.Linasaidsomethingreallymean that Iwon’t repeat.And thenext second,Summer,without sayinganything toanyone, justpickedupherlunchtrayandwalkedovertohim.Itwassounexpected!Lina,Iremember,lookedlikeshewaswatchingacaraccident.“Stopstaring!”Isaidtoher.“Ican’tbelieveshe’seatingwithhim,”shewhispered,horrified.“It’snotthatbigadeal,”Isaid,rollingmyeyes.“Thenwhyaren’tyouhavinglunchwithhim?”sheanswered.“Aren’tyousupposedtobehiswelcome

buddy?”“Thatdoesn’tmeanIhavetositwithhimatlunch,”Iansweredquickly,regrettingthatI’dtoldanyone

thatMr.TushmanhadchosenmetobeAuggie’swelcomebuddy.Yes,itwasanhonorthathehadaskedme,alongwithJulianandJack—butIdidn’twantanyonethrowingitinmyface!All around thecafeteria,peopleweredoing theexact same thingweweredoingatour lunch table:

staringatAuggieandSummereatingtogether.Wewereliterallyonlyafewhoursintomiddleschool,butpeoplehadalreadystartedcallinghimtheZombieKidandFreak.BeautyandtheFreak.That’swhatpeoplewerewhisperingaboutSummerandAuggie.NowaywasIgoingtohavepeoplewhisperstuffbehindmyback,too!“Besides,”IsaidtoLina,takingabiteofmyCaesarsalad.“Ilikethistable.Idon’twanttoswitch.”Andthatwastrue!Ididlikethistable!Atleast,atfirstIdid.But then, as I got to know everyone a little better, I realized that maybe I didn’t have as much in

commonwiththemasIwouldhaveliked.It turnedoutthatLina,Megan,andRandwereall super intosports(Mayaplayedsoccer,butthatwasall).Sotherewasthiswholeworldofsoccergamesandswimmeetsand“awaygames”thatEllieandIcouldn’treallytalktothemabout.Anotherthingisthattheyhadallchosentobeinorchestra,whileEllieandIhadchosenchorus.Andthelastthing,verysimply,wasthat theyweren’t intoalotof thestuffwewereinto!TheyneverwatchedTheVoiceorAmericanIdol.Theyweren’tintomoviestarsoroldmovies.TheyhadneverevenseenLesMisérables, forcryingoutloud!Imean,howcouldIhaveaseriousfriendshipwithsomeonewhohadnointerestinseeingLesMis?ButaslongasIhadEllietotalkto,withMayatheretoroundusout,everythingwastotallyfinebyme.

Thethreeofuswouldchataboutthestuffwewantedtotalkaboutonoursideofthetable,andMegan,Lina,andRandwouldchataboutthestufftheywantedtotalkaboutontheirsideofthetable.Andthenwe’d all catch up about the stuff we had in common—schoolwork, homework, teachers, tests, badcafeteriafood—inthemiddleofthetable.Whichiswhyeverythingwasgood.UntilEllieswitchedtables!Andnowit’sjustme.AndMaya.Maya,whowasonlyreallyfuntotalktowhenElliewasthere.Orifyouwantedtoplayarousinggame

ofdots.Look,I’mnotmadatEllieforswitchingtables.Ihonestlydon’tblameher.Eversinceweheardthat

Amoshadacrushonher,itwaslikeshe’dgottenafreepassintothepopulargroup.Savannahadaskedhertositwiththematlunch,andthenarrangeditsoAmosandElliesatnexttoeachother.That’showallthe“couples”inthegradegottogether.XimenaandMiles.SavannaandHenry.Andnow,AmosandEllie.Inarrangedgrouphuddles.Thepopularboysandthepopulargirls.Itwasnaturalthatthey’dallwanttosticktogether.Nobodyelseinourgradeisdatingorevenclosetodating!Iknowforafactthatthegirlsatmylunchtablestillactlikeboyshavecooties!And,fromwhatIcantell,mostoftheboysactlikegirlsdon’texist.So,yeah,ItotallygetwhyEllieswitchedlunchtables.Ireallydo.AndI’mnotabouttobesuper-mad

ather,likeMayais.It’shardwhenyou’vebeeninvitedtoabetterlunchtable.There’skindofnolookingback.AllIcandoissitandwait,talktoMaya,andhopethatSavannawillaskmetojointhematthepopular

tablesomeday.Inthemeanwhile,IdrawVenndiagrams.Andplaylotsandlotsofdots.

HowaNewSubgroupWasFormedThenextday,rightbeforelunch,thisnotewastackedtotheannouncementboardoutsideofthelibrary:

Congratulations to thegirls listedbelow!You’vebeenchosen toparticipate inMrs.Atanabi’s1960sdanceperformance.I’vepostedarehearsalscheduleonthe website. Mark your calendars! No absences. No excuses. Our firstrehearsalistomorrowat4:00p.m.intheperformancespace.DONOTDARETOBELATE!—Mrs.Atanabi

XimenaChinCharlotteCodySummerDawson

OMG,Igotin!Yay!!!!!!IwassohappywhenIreadmynameonthelist!Overjoyed!Ecstatic!Woo-hoo!Soitwasme,Ximena—andSummer?Whaaat!Summer?Thatwassucha surprise! Iwassopositivelysure itwasgoing tobeSavanna! I

mean,Summerhadjuststartedtakingdance!DidshereallybeatoutSavanna?Ohboy:IcouldonlyimaginehowmadSavannawasatthat.Ibetherewwfrownstretchedclearacross

herfacewhenshesawthelist!AndEllie?Actually,IbetElliewassomewhatrelieved.ShewouldhavehadahardtimekeepingupwithXimenaandSavanna,andEllieneverreallyloveddancingthatmuch.IalwayskindofthoughtshewasonlyintoitbecauseI’dalwaysbeenintoit.Iwashappyitworkedoutforherthisway.Imean,shemightnotactlikeit,butshe’sstillmyBFF.And Iwashappy forme, too!Because even though Iwashoping to get a bit closer to theSavanna

group,IhadalsobeenalittlestressedwonderingiftheSavannaandXimenapairingwouldhaveicedmeout.But having Summer in the group along with Ximena? That was going to be awesome! Maybe the

combinedpowerofSummer’snicenessandmynicenesswouldturnXimenaintooneofus.Attheveryleast,itmightkeepherfrombeingthemeangirleveryoneseemstothinksheis.NotthatIthinkshe’sameangirl.Infact,Ibarelyknowher!Eitherway,havingSummerbethethirdgirlinthedancemademesohappy.Ialmostcouldn’tstopsmilingallday.

HowISawSavannaAtlunch,IsqueezedinnexttoMayaandRand,whowerehunchedoveryetanotheroneofMaya’sgiantdotgames,whichweregettingmoreandmoreelaborate.“So!”Isaidhappily.“Goodnews,guys!IgotpickedtobeinMrs.Atanabi’ssixtiesdanceshowforthe

benefitinMarch!Yay!”“Yay!”Mayaanswered,notlookingupfromthedotgame.“That’sgreat,Charlotte.”“Yay,”echoedRand.“Congrats.”“Summergotin,too.”“Ohyay,goodforher,”saidMaya.“IlikeSummer.She’salwayssonice.”Rand,whowasmarkingarowofboxesshehadjustclosedoffwithherinitial,lookedupatMayaand

smiled.“Fifteen!”shesaid.“Argh!” saidMaya, grinding her teeth. She had just gotten braces, and was making a lot of funny

movementswithhermouththesedays.I flicked my eraser at them. “That sure is one intense game of dots you’re playing there,” I said

sarcastically.“Ha-ha!”saidMaya,leaningintomewithhershoulder.“That’ssofunnyIforgottolaugh.”“Themean-girltableislookingatyou,”saidRand.“What?”Isaid.BothMayaandIturnedaroundinthedirectionshewasstaring.ButSavanna,Ximena,Gretchen,andEllieturnedawaythemomentIglancedintheirdirection.“Theywere so just talking about you!” saidMaya, giving them her dirtiest look through her black-

framedglasses.“Stopthat,Maya,”Isaidtoher.“Why?Idon’tcare,”sheanswered.“Letthemseeme.”Shebaredherteethatthemlikesomekindofcrazyferret.“Stoplookingatthem,Maya!”Iwhisperedthroughmyowngrittedteeth.“Fine,”shesaid.ShewentbacktoplayinghercolossalgameofdotswithRand,andIconcentratedoneatingmyravioli.

Atonepoint,Icouldfeelsomeone’seyesburningintomyback,soIturnedaroundtosneakapeekattheSavanna table again.This time around,Ximena,Gretchen, andElliewere talking together, completelyoblivioustome.ButSavannawasglaringrightatme!Andshedidn’tlookawaywhenoureyesmet.Shejustcontinuedstaringmedown.Then,rightbeforeshefinallystopped,shepokedhertongueoutatme.Ithappenedsofast,nooneelsewouldhaveseenit.Anditseemedsochildish,Ialmostcouldn’tbelieveit!That’swhenIrealizedthatIgotitwrongbefore,aboutSummertakingthethirdspotinMrs.Atanabi’s

dancepiece.IhadthoughtthatspotshouldhavegonetoSavanna,notSummer.ButinSavanna’sview,itwasn’tSummerwhohadtakenthatspotfromher.Itwasme!“Charlotte’salwaysthefirsttosignin,”shehadsaid.

Savannablamedmefortakingherrightfulspotinthedance!

HowWeGotOfftoanAwkwardStartAllthenextday,thethreatofasnowstormmadeeveryonekindofgiddyanduncertain,sincetherewastalkthattheschoolwouldcloseearlyifitcamedownasbadastheforecastpredicted.Luckily—becausethe last thing in theworld Iwantedwas forour first rehearsal tobecanceled!—thesnowonly startedfallinginthelateafternoon.Nothardatall.SoImademywayuptotheperformancespaceasquicklyasIcouldafterthelastbell.GiventhatMrs.Atanabihadissuedsuchathreateningwarningaboutbeinglate,Iwasn’tsurprisedthatbothSummerandXimenawerealreadythere,too.Wesaidhellotooneanotherbeforechangingintoourdanceclothes.Itwasalittleawkwardatfirst,I

guess.Thethreeofushadneverreallyhungouttogetherbefore.Wewerefromdifferentgroups,ourownversionofmammals,reptiles,andfish.SummerandIonlyhadoneclasstogether.And,likeIsaidbefore,IbarelyknewXimena.Thelongestconversationwe’deverhadwasbackinDecember,inMs.Rubin’sclass,whensheaskedme—withoutashredofremorse—ifIwouldmindswitchingpartnerswithhersoshecouldbepairedupwithSavanna.Which ishowIendedupwithRemoasmyscience fairprojectpartner,butthat’sawholeotherstorynotworthtelling.Westarteddoingwarm-upsandstretchestopassthetime.Mrs.Atanabiwasnowalmosthalfanhour

late!“Doyouthinkthisishowit’salwaysgoingtobe?”saidXimena,mid-battement.“Mrs.Atanabibeing

late?”“She’sneverontimetotheaterclass,”Isaid,shakingmyhead.“Right?”Ximenasaid.“That’swhatI’mafraidof.”“Maybeshejustgotstuckinthesnow?”Summersaid,somewhathopefully.“It’sstartingtocomedown

prettyhardnow,Ithink.”Ximenamadeaface.“Yeah,maybesheneedsadogsled,”sheansweredquickly.“Ha-ha-ha!”Ilaughed.ButIcouldtellIsoundeddorky.Please,God,pleasedon’tletmeseemdorkyinfrontofXimenaChin.Thetruthis:XimenaChinmademealittlenervous.Idon’tknowwhyexactly.Itwasjustthatshewas

socool,andsopretty,andeverythingaboutherwasalwayssoperfect.Thewayshewrappedherscarf.Thewayherjeansfither.Thewayshefastenedherhairintotheneatesttwist.Everythingwassoflawlesswithher!IrememberfromthemomentXimenastartedatBeecherPrepthisyear,everybodyhadwantedtobeher

friend.Includingme!I’msureshedidn’tevenrememberthis,butIwastheonewhohelpedherfindherlockeronthefirstdayofschool.Iwastheonewholetherborrowapencil inthirdperiod(whichsheneverreturnedtome,cometothinkofit).ButSavannawastheonewhobecameherbestfriend.Savannamanagedtozoominonherwithinthefirstnanosecondofschool.Andthen,forgetit.ItwasliketheBigBang of friendships. It just exploded into an instantaneous universe of knowing looks and giggles andclothesandsecrets.

TherewasreallynochanceofgettingtoknowXimenabetterafterthat.Thetruthis,shedidn’tmakemuchofaneffort toexpandbeyond theSavannagroupanyway.Maybeshe felt likeshedidn’tactuallyhaveto.Peoplesaidshewaskindofasnob.AllIreallyknewaboutherwasthatshehadthemostamazinglegextensionI’deverseen,thehighest

scoresinourgrade,andshewassnarky.Meaning,shemadealotof“cleverobservations”aboutpeoplebehindtheirbacks.Therewereabunchofpeople—likeMaya,forinstance—whocouldn’tstandher.ButIcouldn’twaittogettoknowherbetter.Tobefriendswithher,maybe!Tolaughathersarcasticgibes.Morethananything,though,Ijustreallyreallyreallywantedhertolikeme!“Ihopethisisallgoingtobeworththetime-suck,”Ximenawassaying.“Imean,we’vegotsomany

otherthingsgoingonthismonth!Thatsciencefairproject?”“Ihaven’tevenstartedmine,”saidSummer.“Me,neither!”Isaid,thoughthatactuallywasn’ttrueatall.RemoandIhadfinishedourdioramaofa

cellthefirstweekbackfromwinterbreak.“I justwant tomakesurewegetenough rehearsal time for thisdance,”Ximenasaid, lookingather

phone.“Idon’twanttobeonstageatCarnegieHalllookinglikeatotalidiotbecausewedidn’trehearseenough—allbecauseMrs.Atanabiwastooflakytoshowupontime.”“Youknow,”Isaid,tryingtosoundcasual,“ifweeverneedaplacetorehearseawayfromschool,you

guyscouldcomeovertomyhouse.Ihaveamirroredwallinmybasementandabarre.Mymomusedtoteachballetoutofourhouse.”“Irememberyourbasement!”saidSummercheerfully.“YouhadthatFlowerFairybirthdaypartythere

once!”“Back in the second grade,” I answered, a little embarrassed shewouldmention Flower Fairies in

frontofXimena.“Doyoulivefarfromhere?”Ximenaaskedme,scrollingthroughhertexts.“Justtenblocksaway.”“Okay,textmeyouraddress,”shesaid.“Sure!”Isaid,whippingoutmyphone,thinkingI’mtextingXimenaChinmyaddresslikethebigdork

thatIam.“Umm,sorry,what’syournumber?”She didn’t look up from her phone but held her hand up tomy face, like a crossing guard. There,

runningverticallydownthesideofherpalm,washerphonenumberwritteninneatblocklettersindarkbluepen.Ikeyedhernumberintomycontactsandtextedhermyaddress.“Hey,youknow,” I saidas Iwas texting, “youguyscouldcomeover tomorrowafter school, ifyou

want.Wecanstartrehearsingthen.”“Okay,”Ximenamumbledcasually,whichmademewanttogasp.XimenaChiniscomingovertomy

housetomorrow!“Oh,Iactuallycan’t,”saidSummer,squintinghereyesapologetically.“I’mhangingoutwithAuggie

tomorrow.”“WhataboutFriday,then?”Iasked.“Can’t,”saidXimena.Shehadobviouslyfinishedtextingnowandlookedup.“Thenmaybenextweek?”Isaid.“We’ll figure out some other time,” Ximena answered indifferently. She started running her fingers

throughherhair.“Iforgetyou’refriendswiththefreak,”shesaidtoSummer,smiling.“What’sthatlike?”

Idon’tthinkshewaseventryingtobemeanwhenshesaidthis.That’sreallyjusthowalotofpeopleautomaticallyreferredtoAuggiePullman.IlookedatSummer.Don’tsayanything,Ithought.ButIknewshewould.

HowNobodyGetsMadattheLavenderFairySummersighed.“Couldyoupleasenotcallhimthat?”sheasked,almostshyly.Ximenaacted likeshedidn’tget it.“Why?He’snothere,”shesaid,pullingherhair intoaponytail.

“It’sjustanickname.”“It’sanawfulnickname,”Summeranswered.“Itmakesmefeelbad.”Here’sthethingwithSummerDawson:shehasthiswayoftalkingwhereshecansaystufflikethis,and

peopledon’tseemtomind.IfIhadsaidsomethinglikethis?Forgetit,peoplewouldbeallovermeaboutbeingagoodytwo-shoes!ButwhentheLavenderFairydoesit,withhercutelittleeyebrowsraisedlikesmilesonherforehead,shedoesn’tcomeoffaspreachy.Shejustseemssweet.“Oh,okay,I’msorry,”answeredXimenaapologetically,hereyesopenwide.“Ihonestlywasn’ttrying

tobemean,Summer.ButIwon’tcallhimthatagain,Ipromise.”Shesoundedlikeshewasgenuinelysorry,but therewassomethingaboutherexpressionthatalways

madeyouwonderifshewasbeingcompletelysincere.Ithinkithadsomethingtodowiththedimpleinherleftcheek.Shealmostcouldn’thelplookingmischievous.Summerlookedatherdoubtfully.“It’sfine.”“Ireallyamsorry,”saidXimena,almostlikeshewastryingtosmoothoutherdimple.NowSummersmiled.“Totallycoolbeans,”shesaid.“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” answeredXimena, giving Summer a little squeeze. “You

reallyareasaint,Summer.”Forasecond,IfeltaquickpangofjealousythatXimenaseemedtolikeSummersomuch.“Idon’tthinkanyoneshouldcallhimafreak,either,”Isaidabsently.Now,hereIhavetostopandsaysomethinginmydefense—IHAVENOIDEAWHYISAIDTHAT!It

literally just came out of me, this stupid string of words hurling from my mouth like vomit! I knewimmediatelyhowobnoxiousitmademesound.“Soyou’venevercalledhimthat,”Ximenasaid,raisingoneeyebrowhigh.Thewayshewaslookingat

me,itwaslikeshewasdaringmetoblink.“Ium…,”Isaid.Icouldfeelmyearsturningred.No,I’msorryIsaidit.Don’thateme,XimenaChin!“Letmeaskyousomething,”shesaidquickly.“Wouldyougooutwithhim?”Itwassooutoftheblue,Ialmostdidn’tknowwhattosay.“What?No!”Iansweredimmediately.“Exactly,”shesaid,likeshehadjustprovedapoint.“Butnotbecauseofhowhelooks,”Isaid,flustered.“Justbecausewedon’thaveanythingincommon!”“Oh,comeon!”laughedXimena.“That’ssonottrue.”Ididn’tknowwhatshewasgettingat.

“Wouldyougooutwithhim?”Iasked.“Ofcoursenot,”sheansweredcalmly.“ButI’mnotabouttobehypocriticalaboutit.”IglancedatSummer,whogavemeanouch,thathurtslook.“Hey, Idon’twant tobemean,”continuedXimenamatter-of-factly.“Butwhenyousay,Oh,Iwould

nevercallhimafreak,ittotallymakesmelooklikeajerkbecauseIhadobviouslyjustcalledhimthat,andit’skindofannoyingbecauseeveryoneknowsthatMr.Tushmanaskedyoutobehiswelcomebuddyand that’swhyyoudon’t callhima freak likeeverybodyelsedoes.Summerbecame friendswithhimwithoutanyoneforcinghertobehiswelcomebuddy,whichiswhyshe’sasaint.”“I’mnotasaint,”Summeransweredquickly.“AndIdon’tthinkCharlottewouldhavecalledhimthat,

evenifMr.Tushmanhadn’taskedhertobeawelcomebuddy.”“See?You’rebeingasaintevennow,”saidXimena.“Idon’tthinkIwouldhavecalledhimafreak,”Isaidquietly.Ximenacrossedherarms.Shewaslookingatmewithaknowingsmile.“Youknow,you’renicertohimwhenyou’reinfrontofteachers,”shesaidveryseriously.“It’sbeen

noticed.”BeforeIcouldanswer—notthatIevenknewwhatIwouldhaveanswered—Mrs.Atanabiburstintothe

performancespacethroughthedoubledoorsinthebackoftheauditorium.“SosorryI’mlate,sosorryI’mlate!”sheannouncedbreathlessly,coveredinsnow.Shelookedlikea

littlesnowmanasshewalkeddownthestairscarryingfourridiculouslyfulltotebags.XimenaandSummerranupthestairstohelpher,butIturnedaroundandwalkedouttothehallway.I

pretended to drink at thewater fountain, butwhat I really needed to gulp downwas air. Ice-cold air.BecauseIcouldfeelmycheeksburning,liketheywereonfire.ItfeltlikeI’djustgottenslappedintheface.Icouldseeoutthehallwaywindowthatthesnowreallywascomingdownhardnow,andapartofmejustwantedtorunoutsideandice-skateaway.Is thathowother people sawme?Like Iwas this hypocritical fake or something?Orwas that just

Ximenabeinghertypicalsnarkyself?You’renicertohimwhenyou’reinfrontofteachers.It’sbeennoticed.Isthattrue?Hasitbeennoticed?Imean,havetherebeenacoupleoftimeswhenIwasbeingespecially

nice to Auggie Pullman because I knew it would get back to Mr. Tushman that I was being a goodwelcomebuddy?Maybe.Idon’tknow!Butevenifthatwerethecase,atleastIcansayI’vebeennicetohim!That’smorethanmostpeople

cansay!That’smorethanXimenacansay!IstillrememberthattimeshewaspartneredwithAuggieindanceclassandlookedlikeshewasabouttothrowup.I’veneverdoneanythinglikethattoAuggie!Okay,somaybeIamalittlenicertoAuggiewhenteachersarearound.Isthatsohorrible?It’sbeennoticed?Whatdoesthatevenmean?Noticedbywho?Savanna?Ellie?Isthatwhattheysay

aboutme?Isthatwhattheyweretalkingaboutinthelunchroomyesterday,whentheyweresoobviouslytalkingaboutmethatevenMaya—whocanbesocluelessaboutsocialstuff—feltsorryforme?HerethiswholetimeIhadassumedthatXimenaChindidn’tevenknowwhoIwas!Andnow,itturns

out,I’vebeennoticed.MorethanIeverwantedtobe.

HowIReceivedMyFirstSurpriseoftheDayIwalkedback inside theperformance space asMrs.Atanabi finishedunwrappingherself fromall herwintrylayers.Hercoat,herscarf,andhersweaterwereallscatteredaroundheronthefloor,whichwaswetfromthesnowshehadbroughtinsidewithher.“Ohmygosh,ohmygosh!”shekeptsayingoverandoveragain,fanningherselfwithbothhands.“It’s

reallystartingtocomedownnow.”Sheploppedontothepianobenchinfrontofthestageandcaughtherbreath.“Ohmygosh,Idohate

beinglate!”IsawXimenaandSummerexchangeknowinglooks.“WhenIwas little,”Mrs.Atanabicontinued, talkingin thatchatterboxwayofhers thatsomepeople

lovedandsomepeoplethoughtmadeherseemcrazy,“mymotheractuallyusedtochargemysisterandmeonedollareverytimewewerelateforsomething.Literally,everytimeIwaslate—evenifitwasjustfordinner—Ihad topaymymomadollar!”She laughedandstarted redoingherbun,holdingacoupleofbobbypinsinherteethwhileshetalked.“Whenyourentireallowancefortheweekisonlythreebucks,youlearntobudgetyourtime!That’swhyI’mconditionedtohatebeinglate!”“Andyet,”Ximenapointedout,smilinginthatslywayofhers,“youwerestilllatetoday.Maybewe

shouldchargeyouadollarfromnowon?”“Ha-ha-ha!” laughedMrs.Atanabi good-naturedly, flicking off her boots. “Yes, Iwas late,Ximena!

Andthat’sactuallynotabadidea.MaybeIshouldgiveallthreeofyouadollar!”Ximenakindoflaughed,assumingshewasjoking.“Infact,”Mrs.Atanabisaid,reachingforherpocketbook,“IthinkI’mgoingtogiveeachoneofyou

girlsadollarbilleverytimeI’mlatetoarehearsal.Fromnowon!That’llforcemetobeontime!”Summer shotme a quizzical look.We started to realize thatMrs. Atanabi, who had pulled out her

wallet,wasserious.“Ohno,Mrs.Atanabi,”saidSummer,shakingherhead.“Youdon’thavetodothat.”“Iknow!ButI’mgoingto!”answeredMrs.Atanabi,smiling.“Now,here’stherub.I’llagreetogive

eachofyouadollareverytimeI’mlatetoarehearsalifyouagreetogivemeadollareverytimeyou’relateforarehearsal.”“Areyouallowedtodothat?”Ximenaaskedincredulously.“Takemoneyfromastudent?”Iwasthinkingthesamething.“Whynot?”answeredMrs.Atanabi.“You’reinprivateschool.Youcanaffordit!Probablymorethan

Ican.”Thislastpartshemuttered.Andthenshestartedcrackingup.Mrs.Atanabiwaskindoffamousforlaughingatherownjokes.Youprettymuchhadtogetusedtoit.Shepulledthreecrispdollarbillsoutofherwalletandheldthemupintheairforustosee.“So,whatdoyougirlssay?”shesaid.“Isitadeal?”Ximenalookedatbothofus.“IknowI’mnevergoingtobelate,”shesaidtous.

“I’mnotgoingtobelate,either!”saidSummer.Ishrugged,stillunabletolookXimenaintheeyes.“Me,neither,”Isaid.“Thenit’sadeal!”saidMrs.Atanabi,walkingovertous.“Foryou,mademoiselle,”shesaidtoXimena,handingheraspanking-newdollarbill.“Merci!”saidXimena,shootingusaquicksmile,whichIpretendednottosee.ThenMrs.AtanabiwalkedovertomeandSummer.“Foryou,andforyou,”shesaid,handinguseachadollarbill.“GodblessAmerica,”webothansweredatthesametime.Wait.What?Welookedateachother,ourmouthsandeyesopenwide.Suddenlyeverythingthatoccurredinthelast

halfhourseemedtoloseanyimportance—ifwhatIthinkjusthappeneddidjusthappen.“Theaccordion-man?”Iwhisperedexcitedly.Summergaspedandnoddedhappily.“Theaccordion-man!”

HowWeWenttoNarniaIt’sfunnyhowyoucanknowsomeoneyourwholelife,butnotreallyknowthematall.Here,thiswholetime,I’vebeenlivinginaparallelworldtoSummerDawson,anicegirlI’veknownsincekindergartenwhoI’vealwaysthoughtlookedliketheLavenderFairy.Butwe’dneveractuallybecomefriendfriends!Notforanyparticularreason.Itjustworkedoutthatway.ThesamewaythatEllieandIweredestinedtobefriendsbecauseMs.Diamondhadsatusnexttoeachotheronthefirstdayofschool,SummerandIweredestinednottogettoknoweachotherbecausewewereneverinthesameclasses.ExceptforPEandswim,andassemblyandconcertsandstuff like that,ourpathsnevercrossed in lowerschool.Ourmomsweren’treallyfriends,soweneverhadplaydates.Sure,IinvitedhertomyFlowerFairybirthdaypartyonce.ButitreallywasbecauseEllieandIthoughtshelookedliketheLavenderFairy!Andsure,we’dhangout a bit at other people’s bowlingparties and at sleepovers and stuff.WewereFacebookfriends.Wehadlotsofpeopleincommon.Weweretotallyfriendly.Butwewereneveractuallyfriends.So,whenshesaid“GodblessAmerica,”italmostfeltlikeIwasmeetingherforthefirsttimeinmy

life.Imaginefindingoutthattherewassomeoneelseintheworldwhoknewasecretthatonlyyouknew!Itwaslikeaninvisiblebridgehadinstantlybeenbuiltconnectingus.Or,likewehadstumbledontoatinydoorinthebackofawardrobeandanaccordion-playingfaunhadwelcomedustoNarnia.

HowIReceivedMySecondSurpriseoftheDayBeforeSummerandIcouldsayanythingelseonthesubjectoftheaccordion-man,Mrs.Atanabibrushedherhands togetherandsaid itwas timeto“get towork.”Wespent therestof therehearsal time,sincetherewasonlyhalfanhourleft, listeningtoMrs.Atanabigiveusaquickoverviewofthedancewhilealsoperiodically checking theweather apponherphone.Wedidn’t reallydo any actual dancing: justsomebasicstepsandalittleroughblocking.“We’ll startgetting into it next time!”Mrs.Atanabi assuredus. “Ipromise Iwon’tbe late!Seeyou

Friday!Staywarm!Becarefulgoinghome!”“Bye,Mrs.Atanabi!”“Bye!”Assoonasshewasgone,SummerandIcametogetherlikemagnets,talkingexcitedlyatthesametime.“Ican’tbelieveyouknowwhoI’mtalkingabout,”Isaid.“GodblessAmerica!”sheanswered.“Doyouhaveanyideawhathappenedtohim?”“No!Iaskedaroundandeverything.”“Idid,too!Nooneknowswhathappenedtohim.”“It’slikehejustvanishedoffthefaceoftheearth!”“It’slikewhovanishedoff thefaceof theearth?”askedXimena, lookingatuscuriously. Iguess the

wayweweresquealingandcarryingon,itdidseemlikesomethingmajorhadjusthappened.Iwasstillkindofkeepingmydistancefromherbecauseofbefore,soIletSummeranswer.“This guywho used to play the accordion onMain Street,” said Summer. “In front of theA&P on

Moore?Hewasalwaystherewithhisguidedog?I’msureyoumusthavenoticedhim.Wheneveryou’ddropmoneyintohisaccordioncase,he’dsay,‘GodblessAmerica.’ ”“GodblessAmerica,”Ichimedinattheexactsametime.“Anyway,”shecontinued,“he’sbeenthereforforever,butacoupleofmonthsago,hejustwasn’tthere

anymore.”“Andnooneknowswhathappenedtohim!”Iadded.“It’slikethismystery.”“Wait,sothisisahomelesspersonyou’retalkingabout?”askedXimena,kindofmakingthesameeww

faceSavannamakessometimes.“Idon’tknowifGordy’shomeless,actually,”Summeranswered.“Youknowhisname?”Iasked,completelysurprised.“Yeah,”sheansweredmatter-of-factly.“GordyJohnson.”“Howdoyouknowthat?”“Idon’tknow.Mydadusedtotalktohim,”sheanswered,shrugging.“Hewasaveteran,andmydad

wasamarine,andwasalwayslike,Thatgentleman’sahero,Summer.Heservedhiscountry.Weusedtobringhimcoffeeandabagelonthewaytoschoolsometimes.Mymomgavehimmydad’soldparka.”

“Wait,wasitanorangeCanadaGooseparka?”Isaid,pointingather.“Yes!”Summeransweredhappily.“Irememberthatparka!”Iscreamed,grabbingherhands.“OMG,youguysaretotallygeekingout,”Ximenalaughed.“Allthisoverahomelessguyinanorange

parka?”SummerandIlookedateachother.“It’shardtoexplain,”saidSummer.ButIcouldtellshefeltit,too:ourconnectionoverthis.Ourbond.

ItwasourversionoftheBigBang.“OhmyGod,Summer!”Isaid,grabbingherarm.“Maybewecouldtrackhimdown!Wecouldfindout

whereheisandmakesurehe’sokay!Ifyouknowhisname,weshouldbeabletodothat!”“Youthinkwecould?”askedSummer,hereyesdoingthatlittledancingthingtheydidwhenshewas

super-happy.“Iwouldlovethat!”“Wait,wait,wait,” saidXimena, shakingherhead. “Areyouguys serious?Youwant to trackdown

somehomelessdudeyoubarelyknow?”Sheactedlikeshecouldn’tbelievewhatshewashearing.“Yes,”webothsaid,lookingateachotherhappily.“Whobarelyknowsyou?”“He’llknowme!”Summersaidconfidently.“EspeciallyifItellhimI’mSergeantDawson’sdaughter.”“Willheknowyou,Charlotte?”Ximenaaskedme,hereyesnarrowingdoubtfully.“Ofcoursenot!”Iansweredherquickly,justwantinghertostoptalking.“He’sblind,stupid!”Themoment I said it, everythinggotquiet.Even the radiator,whichhadbeenmakingall these loud

banging noises in the performance space until then, suddenly fell silent. As if the performance spacewantedtohearmywordsechointheair.He’sblind,stupid.He’sblind,stupid.He’sblind,stupid.Anothervomitofwords.It’salmostlikeIwastryingtogetXimenaChintohateme!Iwaitedforhertohitmewithasarcasticcomeback,somethingthatwouldslapmelikeaninvisible

handacrosstheface.But,instead,tomyutterandcompleteamazement,shestartedtolaugh.Summerstartedtolaugh,too.“He’sblind,stupid!”shesaid,imitatingthewayIhadsaiditexactly.“He’sblind,stupid!”Ximenarepeated.Theybothstartedcrackingup.Ithinkthehorrifiedlookonmyfacemadeitevenfunnierforthem.Every

timetheylookedatme,theylaughedharder.“I’msosorryIsaidthat,Ximena,”Iwhisperedquickly.Ximenashookherhead,wipinghereyeswiththepalmofherhand.“It’sfine,”sheanswered,catchingherbreath.“Ikindofhadthatcoming.”Therewasn’tatraceofsnarkinesstoherrightnow.Shewassmiling.“Look,Ididn’tmeantoinsultyouearlier,”shesaid.“WhatIsaidaboutAuggie.Iknowyou’renotonly

nicetohiminfrontofteachers.I’msorryIsaidthat.”Icouldn’tbelieveshewasapologizing.“No,it’sfine,”Ianswered,fumbling.“Really?”sheasked.“Idon’twantyoutobemadatme.”

“I’mnot!”“Icanbeatotaljerksometimes,”shesaidregretfully.“ButIreallywantustobefriends.”“Okay.”“Awww,”saidSummer,stretchingherarmsouttous.“Comeon,guys.Grouphug.”Shewrapped her fairy wings around us, and for a few seconds, we came together in an awkward

embracethatlastedasecondtoolongandendedinmoregiggles.Thistime,Iwaslaughing,too.Thatturnedouttobethebiggestsurpriseoftheday.Notfindingoutthatpeoplehavenoticedme.Not

findingoutthatSummerknewtheaccordion-man’sname.But realizing that Ximena Chin, under her layers and layers and layers of snarkiness andmischief,

couldactuallybekindofsweet.Whenshewasn’tbeingkindofmean.

HowWeGottoKnowEachOtherBetterThenextfewweeksflewby!Acrazyblurofsnowstorms,anddancerehearsals,andsciencefairprojects,andstudyingfortests,andtryingtosolvethemysteryofwhathadhappenedtoGordyJohnson(moreonthatlater).Mrs.Atanabiturnedouttobequitethelittledrillsergeant!Lovable,inherowncute,waddlyway,but

reallypushy.Like,wecouldneverpracticeenoughforher.Drills,drills,drills.Enpointe!Shimmy!Hiproll!Classicalballet!Moderndance!Alittlebitof jazz!Notap!Downbeat!Half toe!Everythingdoneherway, because she had a lot of very specific dance quirks.Things she obsessed about.The dancesthemselvesweren’thard.The twist.Themonkey.TheWatusi.Thepony.Thehitchhike.Theswim.Thehucklebuck.The shingaling.But itwasdoing themexactly theway shewantedus todo them thatwashard.Doingthemaspartofalargerchoreographedpiece.Anddoingtheminsync.That’swhatwespentmost of our time working on. The way we carried our arms. The way we snapped our fingers. Ourturnouts.Ourjumps.Wehadtoworkhardonlearninghowtodancealike—notjusttogether!The dance we spent the most time working on was the shingaling. It was the centerpiece of Mrs.

Atanabi’swholedancenumber,what sheused to transition fromonedance style to thenext.But thereweresomanyvariationstoit—theLatinone,theR&Bone,thefunkshingaling—itwashardnottomixthemup.AndMrs.Atanabiwassoparticularaboutthewayeachonewasdanced!Funnyhowshecouldbesoloosey-gooseyaboutsomethings—likeneveroncegettingtoarehearsalontime!—andyetbesostrictaboutotherthings—like,Godforbidyoudoadiagonalchasséinsteadofasidewayschassé!Uh-oh,careful,theworldasyouknowitmightend!I’m not saying that Mrs. Atanabi wasn’t nice, by the way. I want to be fair. Shewas super-nice.

Reassuringusifwewerehavingtroublewithanewroutine:“Smallsteps,girls!Everythingstartswithsmallsteps!”Surprisinguswithbrowniesafteraparticularlyintenseworkout.Drivingushomewhenshekeptusrehearsingtoolate.Tellingusfunnystoriesaboutotherteachers.Personalstoriesaboutherownlife.Howshe’dgrownupintheBarrio.Howsomeofherfriendshadgonedowna“wrong”path.HowwatchingAmericanBandstandhadsavedherlife.Howshe’dmetherhusband,whowasalsoadancer,whileperformingwithCirqueduSoleilinQuebec.“Wefellinlovedoingarabesquesonatightropethirtyfeetintheair.”Butitwasintense.WhenIwouldgotosleepatnight,Ihadsomuchinformationbouncingaroundmy

head!Bitsofmusic.Thingstomemorize.Mathequations.To-dolists.Mrs.AtanabisayinginhersmoothEastHarlemaccent:“It’stheshingaling,baby!”ThereweretimeswhenIwouldjustputmyheadsetontodrownoutthechatterinmybrain.Iwashavingsomuchfun,though,Iwouldn’thavechangedathing.Becausethebestpartaboutallthe

crazyrehearsingandMrs.Atanabi’sdrillsandeverythingelse—andIdon’twanttosoundcorny—wasthatXimena,Summer,andIwerereallystartingtogettoknoweachother.Okay,thatdoessoundcorny.Butit’strue!Look,I’mnotsayingwebecamebestfriendsoranything.SummerstillhungoutwithAuggie.XimenastillhungoutwithSavanna.IstillplayeddotswithMaya.Butwewerebecomingfriends.Like,friendfriends.

Ximena’ssnarkiness,bytheway,wascompletelyput-on.Somethingshecouldtakeoffwhenevershewantedto.Likeascarfyouwearasanaccessoryuntilitstartsfeelingitchyaroundyourneck.WhenshewaswithSavanna,sheworethescarf.Withus,shetookitoff.That’snottosayIdidn’tstillgetnervousaroundhersometimes!OMG.Thefirsttimeshecameovertomyhouse?Iwasacompletewreck!Iwasnervous thatmymomwouldembarrassme. Iwasnervous that thestuffedanimalsonmybedwere toopink. Iwasnervousabout theBigTimeRush posteronmybedroomdoor. Iwasnervous thatmydog,Suki,wouldpeeonher.But,ofcourse,everythingturnedoutfine!Ximenawastotallynice.SaidIhadacoolroom.Offeredto

dothedishesafterdinner.MadefunofaparticularlyhilariousphotoofmewhenIwasthree,whichwasfairbecauseIlooklikeasockpuppetinit!Atsomepointduringthatafternoon,Idon’tevenknowwhenitwas, I actually stopped thinkingXimenaChin is inmy house!XimenaChin is inmy house! and juststartedhavingfun.Thatwashugeformebecauseitwasaturningpoint,themomentIstoppedactinglikeanidiotaroundXimena.Nomorewordvomits.IguessthatwaswhenItookmy“scarf”off,too.Anyway, February was intense, but awesome. And by the end of February, we were pretty much

hangingoutatmyplaceeverydayafter school,dancing in frontof themirroredwalls, self-correcting,matchingourmoves.Wheneverwe’dget tired,ordiscouraged,oneofuswouldsay inMrs.Atanabi’saccent,“It’stheshingaling,baby!”Andthatwouldkeepusgoing.And sometimeswe didn’t rehearse. Sometimeswe just chilled inmy living room by the fire doing

homeworktogether.Orhangingout.Or,occasionally,searchingforGordyJohnson.

HowIPreferHappyEndingsOneof the things Imiss themost aboutbeinga littlekid is thatwhenyou’re little, all themoviesyouwatch have happy endings. Dorothy goes back to Kansas. Charlie gets the chocolate factory. Edmundredeemshimself.Ilikethat.Ilikehappyendings.But,asyougetolder,youstartseeingthatsometimesstoriesdon’thavehappyendings.Sometimesthey

evenhavesadendings.Ofcourse, thatmakesformoreinterestingstorytelling,becauseyoudon’tknowwhat’sgoingtohappen.Butit’salsokindofscary.Anyway,thereasonI’mbringingthisupisbecausethemorewelookedforGordyJohnson,themoreI

startedrealizingthatthisstorymightnothaveahappyending.WehadstartedoursearchbysimplyGooglinghisname.But,itturnsout,therearehundredsofGordy

Johnsons. Gordon Johnsons. Gordie Johnsons. There’s a famous jazz musician named Gordy Johnson(whichwe theorized could explain the rumor the eye-shopman had heard aboutour Gordy Johnson).There are politician Gordon Johnsons. Construction worker Gordon Johnsons. Veterans. Lots ofobituaries.TheInternetdoesn’tdistinguishbetweennamesofthelivingandnamesofthedead.Andeverytimeweclickedononeofthosenames,wewouldberelievedthatitwasn’tourGordyJohnson.Butsadthatitwassomeoneelse’sGordyJohnson.Atfirst,Ximenadidn’treallyjoininthesearch.ShewouldbedoingherhomeworkortextingMileson

onesideofthebedroomwhileSummerandIhuddledaroundmylaptop,scrollingthroughpageafterpageofdeadends.Butoneday,Ximenapulledherchairnexttooursandstartedlookingoverourshoulders.“Maybeyoushouldtrysearchingbyimage,”shesuggested.Whichwedid.Itwasstilladeadend.Butafterthat,Ximenabecameasinterestedinfindingoutwhat

happenedtoGordyJohnsonaswewere.

HowIDiscoveredSomethingAboutMayaMeanwhile,atschool,everythingwasbusinessasusual.Wehadoursciencefair.RemoandIgotaB+forourcell-anatomydiorama,whichwasmorethanIthoughtwewouldgetconsideringIspentaslittletimeonthatprojectaspossible.XimenaandSavannabuiltasundial.ThemostinterestingonewasprobablyAuggie and Jack’s, though. It was a working lamp that was powered by a potato. I figured Auggieprobably didmost of the work, since, let’s face it, Jack’s never been what one would call a “giftedstudent,” but hewas so happy to have gotten anA on it.He looked so cute!!! Like a little happy butsomewhatcluelessemoticon.AndthiswasmyemoticonwhenIsawhim:BytheendofFebruary,theboywarhadreallyescalated,though.Summerfilledmeinaboutwhatwas

goingon,sinceshehadtheinsidescooponeverythingfromAuggieandJack’spointofview.Apparently—andIwassworntosecrecy—JulianhadstartedleavingreallynastyyellowPost-itnotesforJackandAuggieintheirlockers.Ifeltsobadforthem!Mayafeltbadforthem,too.Shehadbecomeobsessedwiththeboywarherself,thoughIwasn’tsure

why at first. It’s not like she had evermade any attempts to be friendswithAuggie!And she alwaystreatedJacklikeagoofball.Like,backinthedayswhenEllieandIwouldpointouthowcutehelookedinhisArtfulDodgertophat,Mayawouldstickherfingersinherearsandcrosshereyes,asifeventhethoughtofhimrepulsedher.SoIfiguredherinterestinthewarhadtodowiththefactthat,quirkyasshewas,Mayahadagoodheart.Itwasonlyonedayatlunch,whenIsawherhardatworkonsomekindoflist,thatIunderstoodwhy

shecaredsomuch.Inhernotebook,whereshedesignsherdotgames,shehadthreerowsoftinyPost-itswiththenamesofalltheboysinthegrade.Shewassortingthemintocolumns:Jack’sside;Julian’sside;neutrals.“Ithinkit’llhelpJacktoknowhe’snotaloneinthiswar,”sheexplained.That’swhenIrealized:MayahasalittlecrushonJackWill!Awww,that’ssocute!“Sweet,” I answered, notwanting tomakeher self-conscious. So I helpedher organize the list.We

disagreedaboutsomeoftheneutrals.Sheultimatelygaveintome.Thenshecopiedthelistontoapieceofloose-leafpaperandfoldeditinhalf,theninquarters,thenineighths,theninsixteenths.“Whatareyougoingtodowithit?”“Idon’tknow,”sheanswered,pushingherglassesbackuphernose.“Idon’twantittogetinthewrong

hands.”“YouwantmetogiveittoSummer?”“Yes.”SoIgavethelisttoSummertogivetoJackandAuggie.IthinkSummermighthaveassumedthatIhad

madethelistmyself,whichIdidn’tcorrectbecauseIhadhelpedMayaworkonthelist,soIthoughtitwasfine.

“How’sthedancestuffgoing?”Mayaaskedmeinherflat-voicedwaythatsameday.Iknewshewasjust trying tobepolite, since shecouldn’t care less.But shewasgood thatway.At least shemadeanefforttoactinterested.“Crazy!!!”Ianswered,bitingintomysandwich.“Mrs.Atanabiisabsolutelyinsane!”“Ha.Mrs.Mad-anabi,”saidMaya.“Yeah,”Isaid.“Goodone.”“It’slikeyou’vebeenhibernatingthewholemonthofFebruary,though!”saidMaya.“I’vebarelyseen

you.Youneverwalkhomewithusafterschool.”Inodded.“Iknow.We’vebeenpracticingat lunchtimelately.Butwe’llbedonesoonenough.Justa

fewmoreweeks.ThegalaisonMarchfifteenth.”“BewaretheidesofMarch,”shesaid.“Ohyeah!Right,”Isaid,thoughIhadabsolutelynoideawhatshewastalkingabout.“So,wanttoseethesketchesformynewestcolossaldotgame?”“Sure,”Ianswered,takingadeepbreath.Shepulledouthernotebookandlaunchedintoadetailedexplanationofhowshehadstoppedusinggrid

patternsforherdotsandwasnowusingchalkart–stylegraphicstocreatemurals,sothatwhenthedotsgotfilledin,theywould“haveadynamicflowpattern.”Orsomethinglikethat.Thetruthis,Ihadtroublefollowingwhatshewassaying.TheonlypartIheardforsurewaswhenshesaid:“Ihaven’tbroughtmynewdotgametoschoolyetbecauseIwanttomakesureyou’rearoundtoplayit.”“Oh,sweet,”Ianswered,scratchingmyhead.Icouldn’tbelievehowboredIwasatthemoment.She started saying something else about the dots, and I glanced over at Summer’s table to distract

myself.She,Jack,andAuggiewerelaughing.Icouldguaranteeyouonething:theyweren’ttalkingaboutdots!ThereweretimeswhenIreallywishedIhadthegutstojustgoandsitwiththem.ThenIlookedoverattheSavannatable.Theywerealllaughingandhavingagoodtime,too.Savanna.

Ellie.Gretchen.Ximena. All talking to the boys at the table across from them: Julian,Miles, Henry,Amos.“Isn’tsheawful?”saidMaya,followingmygaze.“Ellie?”Iasked,becausethat’swhoIwaslookingatthatexactmoment.“No.XimenaChin.”IturnedaroundandgaveMayaalook.IknewshehatedXimena,butforsomereason,thewayshehad

saidit,inthisseethingtone,justsurprisedme.“So,whatisthisthingyouhaveagainstXimenaChin?”Iasked.“It’sElliewhoditchedus,remember?It’sSavannawhohasn’tbeennicetous.”“That’snottrue,”Mayaargued.“Savanna’salwaysbeennicetome.Weusedtohaveplaydatesallthe

timewhenwewereinlowerschool.”Ishookmyhead.“Yeah,but,Maya,”Isaid,“playdatesdon’tcount.Halfthetime,ourmomssetthose

up.Nowwegettochoosewhowewanttohangoutwith.AndSavannaischoosingnottohangoutwithus.Ellieischoosingnottohangoutwithus.Justlikewe’rechoosingnottohangoutwithsomepeople.It’snotthatbigadeal.Butit’scertainlynotXimenaChin’sfault.”MayapeeredoverherglassesattheSavannatable.AsIwatchedher,Irealizedshestilllookedexactly

thewayshedidinkindergarten,whenwewouldhavetetherballgamesintheplaygroundorgoonfairyquestsintheparkatsunset.

Insomeways,Mayahadn’tgrownupthatmuchsincethen.Herface,herglasses,andherhair—theywerealmostidenticaltowhattheyusedtobe.Shewastallernow,ofcourse.Butalmosteverythingelseremainedunchanged.Especiallyherexpressions.Theywereexactlythesame.“No,Ellieusedtobenicetome,”sheansweredverysurely.“JustlikeSavannawas.Iblameitallon

XimenaChin.”

HowFebruaryMadeUsMoney,Too!BytheendofFebruary,we’dmadethirty-sixdollars!Mrs.Atanabihadbeenlatetoeverysinglerehearsal.Every.Single.One.Itgotsothatshewouldactuallycometorehearsalwithcrispdollarbillsallreadyinherhandstogive

us.Shewould literally showup,begin talking,handus themoneywithout evenacknowledging it, andstartthedanceclass!Itwasalmostlikeitwasthepriceofadmission.Whatshepaidtogetthroughthedoor.Sofunny!Thenatonepointhalfwaythroughthemonth,sheherselfsuggesteduppingtheamountofthepenaltyshe

wouldgiveusforbeinglatefromonedollartofivedollars.This,sheassuredus,woulddefinitelykeepherfrombeinglateinthefuture.Butof course thatdidn’twork, either.Andnow, insteadof coming to rehearsalpreparedwithcrisp

one-dollarbillsinherhand,shewouldcomeinwithcrispfive-dollarbills.Whichshesimplydroppedontopofourbackpacksbythedoorwithoutsayingaword.Thepriceofadmission.Swoosh.Swoosh.Swoosh.“GodblessAmerica.”EvenXimenasaidthatnow.

HowXimenaMadeaDiscovery

AscensionTranscendsByMelissaCrotts,NYTMuseTech,February1978

Ascension, in its world premiere at the Nelly Regina Theater, is the stunningdebutbychoreographerPetraEchevarri,recentgraduateofJuilliardandwinnerofthePrincessGraceAward.Amesmerizingreinterpretationofthedancefadsofthe’60s—asseenthroughtheKodachromiclensoftheauthor’schildhoodinNYC’sBarrio—thispieceisarivetingandjoyfulhomagetothescratchy,catchy,andsoon-to-be-lost tracksof thedecade.Chock-fullofbreathtaking leapsandinnovativestepsthatbelieMs.Echevarri’sowntrainingintheclassicalstyle,thework takesoneparticulardance, theshingaling,andcreatesavisualnarrativethroughwhichtherestoftheworkweaves.“ThereasonIchosetheshingalingasthecenterpieceofthisdance,”explains

Echevarri, “is because it’s the only one of the dance fads of the time thatactuallyevolvedover theyears to reflect themusical stylesandgenresof themusicians and dancers interpreting it. There are somany types of shingaling:Latin, soul,R&B, funk, psychedelic, and rock and roll. It’s the one dance thatintersectseverygenre.Thecommonthread.“Growingupinthe’60s,musicwaseverythingtomeandmyfriends.Ididn’t

havemoney for dance lessons.American Bandstand wasmy dance teacher.Thosedancefadsoftheeraweremytraining.”Echevarrididn’tbegin formaldance traininguntil theageof twelve,butonce

shedid,therewasnolookingback.“OnceIgot intoPerformingArts,andthenJuilliard,”recallsEchevarri,“IknewIcoulddoit.Icoulddefytheodds.Noneofmyneighborhoodfriendsdid.The’hoodisatoughplacetoleave.”Whenaskedwhyshechose theshingalingas themain themeofherdance,

Echevarri grows wistful. “A couple of years ago, about a month beforegraduating from Juilliard, I attended the funeral of a childhood friend—one ofthosegirlswhousedtocometomyhouseforBandstand.Ihadn’tseenherforyears,butI’dheardshewasinabadway,hadgotteninwiththewrongcrowd.Anyway,hermothersawmeatthefuneral,andsaidherdaughterhadmadeagiftforme,agraduationpresent.Icouldn’timaginewhatitwas!”Echevarriholdsupacassette tape. “Thisgirlhadmademea tapeofevery

shingaling song from our childhood. Every single one. ‘Chinatown’ by JustiBarreto.‘ShingalingShingaling’byKakoandHisOrchestra.‘Sugar,Let’sShing-A-Ling’byShirleyEllis. ‘I’veGotJust theThing’byLouCourtney. ‘Shing-A-Ling

Time, Baby!’ by the Liberty Belles. ‘El Shingaling’ by the Lat-Teens. ‘Shing-A-Ling!’byArthurConley. ‘Shing-A-Ling!’byAudreyWinters. ‘NobodybutMe’bytheHumanBeinz.An incrediblesong list. Idon’tevenknowhowshe recordedsomeof them.Butwhen Iheard thesesongs, Iknew Iwasgoing tocreateadancewovenaroundthem.”The threedancers in thepiece, all recent graduatesof Juilliard themselves,

bring a distinctive vocabulary to the montage, drawing viewers into anexperience that is at once life-affirming and joyful, without any bubble-gumsentimentality.Thislackofartificeowesasmuchtotherousingarrangementofsongs, which blend seamlessly together, as it does to Echevarri’s poignantnarrative.Moderndanceatitsbest.

HowWeTexted

Thursday9:18pm

XimenaChinDidyouguysseethearticleIemailedyou?

CharlotteCodyO!M!G!!!!IsTHATreallyMrs.Atanabi?

XimenaChin:);-OCrazy,right?

CharlotteCodyRUsure?WhoisPetraEchevarrrrarara?

XimenaChinIt’shermaidenname.That’sher!Trustme. IwasgooglingGordyJohnson tonightandgot

boredandstartedgooglingPetraAtanabi.

SummerDawsonIjustreadthearticle.Unbelievable!That’sthedanceWE’REDOING!!!!Ascension!

XimenaChinIknow!Amyaazzzinng!

CharlotteCodyShelookssoyoungandprettyinthatphoto.

SummerDawsonAww,that’ssosweet,Ximena!

XimenaChinW@?????

SummerDawsonThatyouweregooglingGordyJohnson.

XimenaChinYeah,well,nowimcuriostoo.Iwanttoknowwhathappenedtohimalready.

CharlotteCodyIshuldntsaythisbutMymomthinksthatmaybehe’s…

SummerDawsonOhno!!!Ithinkmymomthinkxsotoo.

XimenaChinSorryguys.IsortathinkmaybeIagree…?????

CharlotteCodyRIPGordyJohnson??????

SummerDawsonNooooooo!!!!!

CharlotteCodyIdontblieveit.

SummerDawsonMeneither

XimenaChinK.4getIsaidNEthing.

SummerDawsonSaidwhaaaat?

CharlotteCody

XimenaChinOncompletelyunrelatednotedoyuguyswanttosleepovermyhouse2moronight?

CharlotteCodyYea!Letmeaskmymom.BRB

SummerDawson

Soundsfun.Justus?

XimenaChinYa.COme@6?

SummerDawsonOK

CharlotteCodyMymomsaysfinesolongasyourparentshome?

XimenaChinNatch.

CharlotteCodyMyparentalunitwhoisatthismomentviolatingmypersonalspaceandreadingmytextover

myshoulderwantsmetofinishhomeworksoIGTG.CU2moro!Gnight.

SummerDawsonNightynight!

XimenaChinTil2moro!Cantwait!xo

HowWeWenttoXimenaChin’sHouseItwas the first timewewent toXimena’s house.Upuntil then,we’d always hungout atmyhouse orSummer’sapartment.Ximenalivedinoneofthoseluxuryhigh-risesontheothersideofthepark.Itwasadoormanbuilding,

verydifferentfromtheapartmentsIwasusedtoinNorthRiverHeights.Mostofthosearebrownstonesorsmallapartmentbuildingsthatareoverahundredyearsold.Ximena’sapartmentwasultra-modern.Theelevatoropeneddirectlyintotheapartment.“Hey!”saidXimena,waitingforusinthefoyer.“Hey!”wesaid.“Wow,thisisbeautiful,”saidSummer,lookingaroundasshedroppedhersleepingbaginthehallway.

“Shouldwetakeourshoesoff?”“Sure,thanks,”saidXimena,takingourcoats.“Ican’tbelieveit’ssnowingagain.”IdroppedmysleepingbagnexttoSummer’sandpulledoffmyUGGs.AwomanI’dneverseenbefore

cameinfromthelivingroom.“ThisisLuisa,”saidXimena.“ThisisSummer,andthat’sCharlotte.Luisa’smybabysitter.”“Hi,”webothsaid.Luisasmiledatus.“Sonicemeetyou!”shesaidinhaltingEnglish.Andthensaidsomethinginrapid-

fireSpanishtoXimena,whoansweredbynoddingandsayinggracias.“YouspeakSpanish?”Isaid,astonished.WewerefollowingXimenaovertothekitchencounter.Ximenalaughed.“Youdidn’tknow?Ximena’ssuchaSpanishname.Youwantsomethingtodrink?”“IthoughtitwasChinese!”Iansweredtruthfully.“Water’sgreat.”“Me,too,”saidSummer.“Mydad’sChinese,”sheexplained,fillingtwoglassesfullofwaterfromtherefrigeratordoor.“My

mom’sSpanish.FromMadrid.That’swhereIwasborn.”“Really?”Isaid.“That’ssocool.”ShesetthecupsofwaterinfrontofuswhileLuisabroughtoveratrayfullofsnacks.“¡Muchasgracias!”SummersaidtoLuisa.“Muchasgracias,”Irepeated,inmyterribleAmericanaccent.“Youguysaresocute,”saidXimena,dippingacarrotstickintoalittletubofhummus.“So,didyougrowupinMadrid?”Iasked.Besidesdancing,andhorses,andLesMis,thethingIlove

mostintheworldistraveling.NotthatIhadeverdoneanytraveling—yet.Sofarwe’donlygonetotheBahamas once, Florida, andMontreal—but my parents are always talking about taking us to Europesomeday.AndIplanonbecomingaprofessionaltravelerafterI’mdonebeingaBroadwaystar.“No, I didn’t grow up there,” answered Ximena. “I mean, I spend summers there—except for last

summer,whenIdidtheballetintensivehereinthecity.ButIdidn’tgrowupthere.MyparentsbothworkfortheUN,soIkindofgrewupallovertheplace.”Shetookabiteofthecarrotstick.Crunch.“Romefor

twoyears.ThenbeforethatwelivedinBrussels.WelivedinDubaiforayearwhenIwasaboutfour,butIdon’trememberthatatall.”“Wow,”saidSummer.“That’ssocool,”Isaid.Ximenatappedontheglassshewasdrinkingfromwithhercarrotstick.“It’sokay,”shesaid.“Butit

canbekindofhard,too.Movingaround.I’malwaysthenewkidinschool.”“Ohyeah,”Summersaidsympathetically.“Isurvived,”Ximenaansweredsarcastically.“I’mnotabouttocomplain.”Shetookanotherbiteofher

carrotstick.“So,doyouknowotherlanguages?”Iasked.She held up three and a half fingers as an answer, since her mouth was full. And then, after she

swallowed,sheelaborated:“English,becauseIalwayswenttoAmericanschools.Spanish.Italian.AndalittlebitofMandarinfrommygrandmother.”“That’ssocool!”Ianswered.“Youkeepsayingthat’ssocool,”Ximenapointedout.“That’ssouncool,”Ianswered,whichmadeherlaugh.LuisacameovertoXimenaandaskedhersomething.“Luisawantstoknowwhatyouguyswouldlikefordinner,”Ximenatranslated.SummerandIlookedateachother.“Oh,anythingisfine,”SummersaidverypolitelytoLuisa.“Pleasedon’tgotoanytrouble.”Luisa raised her eyebrows and smiled as Ximena translated. Then she reached over and pinched

Summer’scheekaffectionately.“¡Qué muchachita hermosa!” she said. And then she looked at me. “Y ésta se parece a una

muñequita.”Ximenalaughed.“Shesaysyou’reverypretty,Summer.And,Charlotte,youlooklikealittledoll.”IlookedatLuisa,whowassmilingandnodding.“Aww!”Isaid.“That’ssonice!”Thenshewalkedawaytostartdinnerforus.“Myparentswillbehomeabout8p.m.,”Ximenasaid,wavingforustofollowher.Sheshowedus the restof theapartment,which looked likesomethingoutofamagazine.Everything

waswhite.Thesofa.Therug.TherewasevenawhitePing-Pongtableinthelivingroom!Itmademealittlenervousaboutbeingklutzy—whichIhavebeenknowntobe—andaccidentallyspillingsomething.WemadeourwaydownthehalltoXimena’sroom,whichwasprobablythebiggestbedroomI’veever

seen (that wasn’t a master bedroom). My bedroom, which I shared with Beatrix, was probably onequarterthesizeofXimena’sbedroom.Summerwalked into themiddleof the roomandmadea slowspinas she took it all in. “Okay, this

roomisactuallyasbigasmyentirelivingroomandkitchencombined,”shesaid.“Oh wow,” I said, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “You can see the Empire State

Buildingfromhere!”“This is, like, themost beautiful apartment I’ve ever seen!” saidSummer, sittingdown inXimena’s

deskchair.

“Thanks,”Ximenasaid,noddingandlookingaround.Sheseemedalittleembarrassed.“Yeah,Imean,we’veonlybeenheresincethissummersoitdoesn’tquitefeellikehometomeyet,but…”Sheploppeddownonthebed.Summerpulled the rollingchairup to thegiantbulletinboard inbackofXimena’sdesk,whichwas

completelycoveredwithtinyphotosandpicturesandquotesandsayings.“Ohlook,aMr.Browneprecept!”shesaid,pointingtoacutoutofMr.Browne’sSeptemberprecept.“He’s,like,myfavoriteteacherever,”answeredXimena.“Mine,too!”Isaid.“WhatacutepictureofyouandSavanna,”Summersaid.Iwentover toseewhatshewaspointingat. Inbetween thedozensof littlepicturesofpeople from

Ximena’s life, most of whom we didn’t recognize, were camera booth–type photos of Ximena andSavanna—plusXimenaandMiles,SavannaandHenry,andEllieandAmos.WhenIsawEllie’spictureupthere,Ihavetoadmit,itwaskindofstrangeforme.LikeIsawherinadifferentlight.Shereallydidhavethiswholenewlife.“Ihavetogetapictureofyoutwoformywall,”Ximenasaid.“Oh,comeon,” saidSummer, inhercute,disapproving fairywayas shepointed toapictureon the

board.“Ximena!”Ittookmeasecondtorealizeshehadn’tsaid“oh,comeon”inresponsetowhatXimenahadjustsaid.“Oh,sorry,”saidXimena,makingaguiltyface.At first I didn’t knowwhat the problemwas, since itwas just our homeroom class picture. Then I

realizedthatoverAuggie’sfacewasatinyyellowPost-itwithadrawingofasadface.XimenapulledthePost-itoffthepicture.“ItwasjustSavannaandthoseguysfoolingaround,”shesaid

apologetically.“That’salmostasbadasJulian’smomPhotoshoppingthepicture,”Summersaid.“Itwasfromalongtimeago.Iforgotitwaseventhere,”saidXimena.Iwassousedtothedimplein

herleftcheekbynowthatIneverconfusedwhenshewasseriouswithwhenshewasjokinganymore.Iwould say her expression right now was definitely remorseful. “Look, the truth is, I think Auggie’samazing.”“Butyounevertalktohim,”saidSummer.“Just because I’m not comfortable around him doesn’t mean I’m not amazed by him,” explained

Ximena.Atthatmoment,weheardaknockontheopendoor.Luisawasholdingalittleboyinherarms,whohad

obviouslyjustwokenupfromanap.HewasprobablyaboutthreeorfouryearsoldandlookedexactlylikeXimena,exceptforthefactthatitwasveryobvioushehadDownsyndrome.“¡Hola, Eduardito!” saidXimena, beaming. She held her arms out to her little brother,who Luisa

depositedintoherarms.“Thesearemyfriends.Misamigas.ThisisCharlotte,andthat’sSummer.Sayhi.Dihola.”ShetookEduardito’shandandwaveditatus,andwewavedback.Eduardito,whohadstillnotcompletelywokenup,lookedatussleepilywhileXimenaplantedkissesalloverhisface.

HowWePlayedTruthorDare“ThedayIfoundoutmydaddied,”Summersaid.ThethreeofuswerelyinginoursleepingbagsonthefloorinXimena’sbedroom.Theceilinglights

hadbeenturnedoff,buttheredchiliChristmaslightsthatwerestrungallaroundtheroomgavethewallsapinkglowinthedark.Ourpajamasglowedpink.Ourfacesglowedpink.Itwastheperfectlightingfortelling secrets and talking about things youwould never talk about in the daylight.Wewere playing aTruthorDaregame,andtheTruthcardthatSummerhaddrawnread:Whatwas theworstdayofyourlife?Myfirstinstincthadbeentoputthecardbackandtellhertodrawanotherone.Butshedidn’tseemto

mindansweringit.“Iwas inMrs.Bob’s classwhenmymom and grandma came to getme,” she continued quietly. “I

thoughttheyweretakingmetothedentist,sinceI’dlostatooththatmorning.Butthesecondwegotinsideourcar,mygrandmastartedtocry.AndthenMomtoldmethat they’djustfoundoutthatDadhadbeenkilledinaction.Daddy’sinheavennow,shesaid.Andthenwejustallcriedandcriedinthecar.Like,thesehuge,unstoppabletears.”Shewasfidgetingwiththezipperofhersleepingbagasshetalked,notlookingatus.“Anyway,thatwastheworstday.”Ximenashookherhead.“Ican’tevenimaginewhatthatmustbelike,”shesaidquietly.“Me,neither,”Isaid.“It’skindofablurnow,actually,”answeredSummer,stillpullingatthezipper.“Like,Ihonestlydon’t

remember his funeral. At all. The only thing I remember about that day is this picture book aboutdinosaursthatIwasreading.Therewasthisoneillustrationofameteorstreakingacrosstheskyovertheheadsofthetriceratops.AndIrememberthinkingmydad’sdeathwaslikethat.It’sliketheextinctionofthedinosaurs.Ameteorhitsyourheartandchangeseverythingforever.Butyou’restillhere.Yougoon.”Shefinallygotthezippertounstickandpulleditupallthewaytoclosehersleepingbag.“But,anyway…,”shesaid.“Irememberyourdad,”Isaid.“Yeah?”shesaid,smiling.“Hewastall,”Ianswered.“Andhehadareallydeepvoice.”Summernoddedhappily.“Mymomtoldmeallthemomsthoughthewassohandsome,”Isaid.Summeropenedhereyeswide.“Aww,”shesaid.Wewerequietagainforafewseconds.Summerstartedstraighteningupthecarddecks.“Okay,sowhoseturnisitnow?”sheasked.“Ithinkit’smine,”Ianswered,flickingthespinner.ItlandedonTruth,soIpulledacardfromtheTruthdeck.“Oh, this one’s so lame,” I said, reading aloud. “ ‘What superpower would you like to have and

why?’ ”“That’sfun,”saidSummer.“I’dwanttofly,ofcourse,”Ianswered.“IcouldgoanywhereIwant.Zoomaroundtheworld.Goto

allthoseplacesXimena’slivedin.”“Oh,IthinkI’dwanttobeinvisible,”saidXimena.“Iwouldn’t,”Ianswered.“Why?SoIcouldhearwhateveryonesaysaboutmebehindmyback?And

knowthateveryonethinksI’msuchaphony?”“Ohno!”laughedXimena.“Notthisagain.”“I’mteasing,youknow.”“Iknow!”shesaid.“Butfortherecord,noonethinksyou’reaphony.”“Thankyou.”“Justafaker.”“Ha!”“Butyoudocaretoomuchaboutwhatpeoplethinkofyou,”shesaid,somewhatseriously.“Iknow,”Ianswered,justasseriously.“Okay,it’syourturn,Ximena,”saidSummer.Ximenaflickedthespinner.ItpointedtoTruth.Shepickedupacard,readittoherself,thengroaned.“ ‘Ifyoucouldgooutwithanyboyinyourschool,whowoulditbe?’ ”shereadaloud.Shecovered

herfacewithherhand.“What?”Isaid.“Wouldn’titbeMiles?”Ximenastartedlaughingandshookherhead,embarrassed.“Whoa!!!”SummerandIbothsaid,pointingather.“Who?Who?Who?”Ximenawaslaughing.Itwashardtoseeinthedimlight,butI’mprettysureshewasblushing.“IfItellyou,youhavetotellmeyoursecretcrushes!”shesaid.“Notfair,notfair,”Ianswered.“Yes,fair!”shesaid.“Fine!”“Amos,”shesaid,sighing.“Noway!”saidSummer,hermouthopenwide.“DoesEllieknow?”“Ofcoursenot,”saidXimena.“It’sjustacrush.Iwouldn’tdoanythingaboutit.Besides,he’snotinto

meatall.HereallylikesEllie.”I thought about that. How just a few months ago, Ellie and I would talk about Jack. Having a

“boyfriend”seemedlikesuchafar-offthingbackthen.Ximenalookedatme.“IthinkIknowwhoCharlotte’scrushis,”shesaidinasingsongyway.Icoveredmyface.“Everybodyknows,thankstoEllie,”Isaid.“Whataboutyou,Summer?”saidXimena,pokingSummer’shand.“Yeah,Summer,whataboutyou?”Iasked.Summerwassmiling,butsheshookherheadno.“Comeon!”saidXimena,pullingSummer’spinky.“There’sgottobesomeone.”

“Fine,”shesaid.Shehesitated.“Reid.”“Reid?”saidXimena.“Who’sReid?”“He’sinMr.Browne’sclasswithus!”Ianswered.“Veryquiet?Drawssharks.”“He’snotexactlypopular,”Summersaid.“Buthe’sreallynice.AndIthinkhe’sverycute.”“Ohhh!”saidXimena.“OfcourseIknowwhoReidis,duh.He’stotallycute!”“Heis,right?”saidSummer.“You’dmakeagreatcouple,”saidXimena.“Maybesomeday,”answeredSummer.“Idon’twanttobeacoupleyet.”“Isthatwhyyoudidn’twanttogooutwithJulian?”askedXimena.“Ididn’twanttogooutwithJulianbecauseJulian’sajerk,”Summeransweredquickly.“Butyouweren’treallysickonHalloween,right?”saidXimena.“AtSavanna’sparty?”Summershookherhead.“Iwasn’tsick.”Ximenanodded.“Ithoughtso.”“Okay,Ihaveaquestion,”IsaidtoXimena.“Butit’snotfromthecards.”“Oh!”saidXimena,raisinghereyebrowsandsmiling.“Okay.”Ihesitated.“Okay.Whenyousayyou’re‘goingout’withMiles,whatdoesthatreallymean?Like,what

doyoudo?”“Charlotte!”saidSummer,smackingmyarmwiththebackofherhand.Ximenastartedlaughing.“No,Ijustmean…,”Isaid.“Iknowwhatyoumean!”saidXimena,grabbingmyfingers.“AllitmeansisthatMilesmeetsmeatmy

lockerafterschooleveryday.Andhewalksmetothebusstopsometimes.Weholdhands.”“Haveyoueverkissedhim?”Iasked.Ximenamadeaface,likeshewassuckingonalemon.Shewasn’twearinghercontactsnow.Justbig

tortoise-framedglasses,aswellasaretainershewassupposedtowearatnight.Shedidn’t lookatallliketheXimenaChinwewereusedtoseeinginschool.“Justonce.AttheHalloweenparty.”“Didyoulikeit?”Iasked.“Idon’tknow!”sheanswered,smiling.“Itwasalittlelikekissingyourarm.Haveyoudonethat?Kiss

yourarms.”SummerandIobedientlykissedourarms.Andthenweallstartedgiggling.“Oh,Jack!”Isaid,makingslurpynoiseswhileIkissedmyselfupanddownmywrist.“Oh,Reid!”saidSummer,doingthesamething.“Oh,Miles!”saidXimena,kissingherwrist.“Imean,Amos!”Wewerecrackingup.“Mija,”Ximena’smomsaid,knockingonthedoor.Shepokedherheadin.“Idon’twantthebabyto

wakeup.Canyoukeepitdownalittle?”“Sorry,mami,”saidXimena.“Goodnight,girls,”shesaidsweetly.“Goodnight!”wewhispered.“Sorry!”

“Shouldwegotosleepnow?”Isaidsoftly.“No,let’sjustbemuchquieter,”saidXimena.“Comeon,Ithinkit’syourturnnow,Summer.Truthor

Dare.”“Ihaveanotherquestionthat’snotonthecard,too,”saidSummer,pointingtoXimena.“Foryou.”“Uh-oh,youguysareganginguponme!”laughedXimena.“Wehaven’tdoneanyDaresyet,”Ipointedout.“Okay,thisistheDare,”saidSummer.“YouhavetositatmylunchtableonMonday,andyoucan’ttell

anyonewhy.”“Oh,comeon!”saidXimena.“Ican’tjustditchmytablewithoutsayingwhy.”“Exactly!”answeredSummer.“SochooseTruth.”“Fine,”saidXimena.“Sowhat’stheTruth?”Summerlookedather.“Okay,Truth.IfSavanna,Ellie,andGretchenhadn’tgoneskiingthisweekend,

wouldyoustillhaveaskedCharlotteandmetoasleepovertonight?”Ximenarolledhereyes.“Ohhh!”Shepuffedhercheeksoutlikeafish.“YoulooklikeMrs.Atanabinow,”Ipointedout.“Comeon,TruthorDare,”Summerpressuredher.“Okay, fine,”Ximena said finally, hiding her face behind her hands. “It’s true! I probablywouldn’t

have.Sorry.”Shepeekedoutatusfrombetweenherfingers.“Iwassupposedtogoskiingwiththemthisweekend,butthenIdidn’tthinkitwasworthmypossiblytwistinganankleorsomethingrightbeforethedance,soIcanceledatthelastminute,andthenIinvitedyouguysover.”“Aha!” said Summer, poking Ximena in the shoulder. “I knew it. We were your plan B for this

weekend.”Istartedpokingher,too.“I’msorry!”saidXimena, laughingbecausewehadstarted ticklingher.“But itdoesn’tmeanIdon’t

wanttohangoutwithyouguys,too!”“Haveyouhadanyothersleepoversinthelastmonth?”Summerasked.Wewereticklingheralotatthispoint.“Yes!”shegiggled.“I’msorry! Ididn’t inviteyou to those,either. I’mnotgoodatmixingmyfriend

groups!ButI’llgetbetternextyear,Ipromise.”“DoyouevenlikeSavanna?”Isaid,givingheronelastpoke.XimenamadeafacethatIrealizedwasaperfectimitationofSavanna’sewwexpression.NowSummerandIstartedlaughing.“Shh!”saidXimena,pattingtheairtoremindustokeepquiet.“Shh!”saidSummer.“Shh!”Isaid.Weallsettleddown.“Okay,Ihavetoadmit,”Ximenasaidquietly,“she’sbeenreallyannoyingeversinceIstartedspending

timewithyouguysrehearsing.Shewassomadwhenshewasn’tpickedforthedance!”“ProbablymadthatIgotpickedinsteadofher,”saidSummer.“Actually,no,shewasmadatCharlotte,”Ximenaanswered,pointingherthumbatme.

“Iknewit!”Isaid.Ximenaleanedherheadononeshoulder.“Shesaid…andthisishertalking,notme…thatyoualways

get the goodparts in shows atBeecherPrepbecause the teachers knowyouwere inTVcommercialswhenyouwerelittle.Andthatyoutryreallyhardtoalwaysbeateacher’spet.”“What.The.Heck?”Isaid,stupefied.“ThatisthecraziestthingI’veeverheard.”Ximenashrugged.“I’mjusttellingyouwhatshetoldmeandEllie.”“ButEllieknowsthat’snottrue,”Isaid.“Trustme,”answeredXimena.“EllieneversaysanythingtocontradictSavanna.”“Idon’tgetwhyshe’salwayshatedme,”Isaid,shakingmyhead.“Savannadoesn’thateyou,”Summeranswered,reachingovertotakeXimena’sglassesoffofherface.

“Ithink,ifanything,she’sprobablyalwaysbeenalittlejealousofyouandElliebeingbestfriends.”“Really?”Isaid.“Why?”Summershrugged.ShetriedonXimena’sglasses.“Well,youknow,youandEllietendedtobekindof

cliquey.IthinkSavannaprobablyfeltalittleleftout.”Thishadnever,everoccurredtome.“Ihadnoideaanyonefeltthatway,”Isaid.“Imean,seriously,noidea.Areyousure?Didotherpeople

feelthisway?Didyou?”Summerlet theglassesfall to thetipofhernose.“Kindof.ButIwasn’t inanyofyourclasses,soI

didn’tcare.Savannawasinallyourclasses.”“Wow,”Isaid,bitingtheinsideofmycheek,whichisanervoushabitIhave.“Iwouldn’tworryaboutit,though,”saidSummer,puttingXimena’sglassesonmyfacenow.“Itdoesn’t

matteranymore.Youlookreallygoodinthose.”“Idon’twantSavannatohateme,though!”Isaid.“WhydoyoucaresomuchaboutwhatSavannathinks?”askedXimena.“Don’tyoucarewhatshethinks?”Iasked.“Let’sfaceit,you’redifferentwhenyou’rearoundher,too.”“That’strue,”saidSummer,takingtheglassesoffmyface.Shestartedcleaningthemwithherpajama

top.“You’remuchnicerwhenyou’renotwithher,”Isaid.Ximenawas twistingherhairwithher finger.“Everyone’sa littlemean inmiddleschool,don’tyou

think?”“No!”saidSummer,puttingtheglassesbackonXimena’sface.“Notevenalittle?”Ximenaanswered,raisingherrighteyebrow.“No,”Summerrepeated,adjustingtheglassesso theywerestraight.“Noonehas tobemean.Ever.”

Sheleanedbacktoinspecttheglasses.“Well,that’swhatyouthinkbecauseyou’reasaint,”teasedXimena.“Ohmygosh,ifyoucallmethatonemoretime!”laughedSummer,tossingherpillowatXimena.“SummerDawson, you did not just hitmewithmy favorite 800-fill-power Europeanwhite goose-

downpillow,didyou?”saidXimena,standingupslowly.Shepickedupherownsuper-fluffypillowandraiseditintheair.“Isthatachallenge?”Summerasked,standingandholdingherpillowuplikeashield.

Istoodupexcitedly,holdingmypillowintheair.“Pillowfight!”Isaid,alittletooloudlybecauseIwasexcited.“Shh!”Ximenasaid,holdingherfingeroverhermouthtoremindmetokeepitdown.“Silentpillowfight!”Iwhisperedloudly.Wespentonelongsecondlookingatoneanother,toseewhowouldstrikefirst,andthenwejuststarted

goingatit.XimenabroughtherpillowdownonSummer,Summerstruckherfrombelow,ImadealongsideswipeatXimena.ThenXimenacameupandswungatmefromtheleft,butSummerspunaroundandstruckusbothfromabove.Soonweweresmackingeachotherwithmore thanjustpillows: thestuffedanimalsonXimena’sbed,towels,ourrolled-upclothes.Anddespiteourtryingtobecompletelysilent,ormaybebecauseof it—since there’snothingfunnier than tryingnot to laughwhenyouwant to laugh—itwasthesinglebestpillowfightI’veeverhadinmyentirelife!Thethingthatstoppedit,orelseitmighthavegoneontoolong,wasthemysterioustrumpetblastofa

fartthatcamefromoneofus.Itstoppedthethreeofusinourtracksaswelookedateachother,eyesopenwide,andstartedlaughinghystericallywhennoonetookcreditforit.Anyway,twosecondslater,Ximena’smomknockedonthedooragain,stillsoundingpatientbutalso

obviouslyalittleirritated.Itwaswaypastmidnight.Wepromisedherwewouldgotosleepnowandwewouldn’tmakeanymorenoise.Wewereoutofbreathfromlaughingsohard.Mystomachactuallyhurtalittle.It took us a while to straighten out our sleeping bags and put the stuffed animals back where they

belonged.Wefoldedourclothesandreturnedthetowelstothecloset.Wesmoothedoutourpillowsandlaydowninoursleepingbagsandzippedthemup,andthenwesaid

goodnighttooneanother.ButIcouldn’tfallasleep.EventhoughIwassleepy,thenightswirledinsideme. Itwas likemyeyeswere tooheavy tokeepopenbutway toocurious toclose. Igotacaseof thegiggles,andthenSummerandXimenastartedgiggling.Wekepttryingtoshushoneanotherbycuppingourhandsovereachother’smouths.Finally,oncethegiggleshadpassedanditgotquietagain,Ximenastartedsingingreallysoftlyinthe

dark.Atfirst,Ididn’tevenrealizewhatshewassinging,shewassingingsoquietly.No-no,no,no-no,no-no-no-no.ThenSummertookupthesong:No,no-no,no,no,no-no,no-no,no-no.Finally,Irealizedwhattheyweresinging,andsang:No-no-no-no,no-no,no,no-no,no!Thenweallstartedwhisper-singingtogether.NobodycandotheshingalingLikeIdo…NobodycandotheskateLikeIdo…NobodycandoboogalooLikeIdo…Wewerelyingonourbackssidebysideaswesang,andmadeourarmsandhandsdanceinsyncabove

our heads. Andwe sang the whole song, from beginning to end, as quietly as if wewere praying in

church.

HowOurVennDiagramsLookIknow.Ispendtoomuchtimethinkingaboutthisstuff.

HowWeNeverTalkedAboutItOnMonday, therewasnomentionof thesleepover.It’s likethethreeofusknew,instinctively,withouthavingtosayitoutloud,thatwhenwegotbacktoschool,everythingwouldreturntobeingbusinessasusual.XimenahangingoutwiththeSavannagroup.Summerhangingoutwithhertinygroup.MeplayingdotswithMayaatmylunchtable.NoonewouldhaveeverguessedthatSummer,Ximena,andIhadbecomegoodfriends.Orthatjusta

fewdaysbefore,wewerehavingsilentpillowfightsandsharingsecretsunderthepinkglowoftheredchililightsinXimena’sbedroom.

HowIFailedtoPreventaSocialCatastropheThenightbefore thegala,Mrs.Atanabi toldus to take thedayoffandgetsomerest.Shewantedus tomakesurewehadanicehealthydinnerandagood’snightsleep.Thenshegaveusourcostumes,whichshehadsomehowmanagedtosewherself.Wehadalreadytriedthemontheweekbefore,butIwassoexcitedtocomehomeandtrymineonagain,nowthatithadbeenfitted.ThecostumewasinspiredbythisphotooftheLibertyBelles:

So that afternoon, Iwent home from schoolwithMaya andLina, theway I used to in the old daysbeforeIstartedhangingoutwithSummerandXimenaallthetime.ItwasoneofthefirstnicedaysinMarch,whenyoufinallygetahintofspringafterthelong,crazycold

winter.LinahadthebrainstormtostopatCarvelonourwayhome,whichfelt likeavery“springtime”thingtodo,sowewalkedintheoppositedirectionupAmesforttowardthepark.Aswewerewalking,Itold them how I had heard that Savanna was telling people that the only reason I got a part inMrs.Atanabi’sdanceshowwasbecauseIhadbeeninaTVcommercialwhenIwaslittle.“Noonebelievesthat,”Linasaidsympathetically,kickinghersoccerballinfrontofher.“That’sawful!”saidMaya,anditkindofmademehappythatshegotsomadaboutit.“Ican’tbelieve

Savanna!Sheusedtobesoniceinlowerschool.”“Savannawasneverreallythatnicetome,”Ianswered.“Shewasnice tome,”Maya insisted,pushingherglassesuphernose.“Nowshe’sevil.Thatwhole

groupisevil.”Inodded.ThenIshookmyhead.“Well,Idon’tknowaboutthat.”“Andnowthey’veturnedEllieagainstus,”Mayasaid.“Youknow,Elliebarelyevensayshellotome

anymore.Nowshe’sevil,too.”Iscratchedmynose.Mayahadawayofbeingveryblack-and-whiteaboutthings.“Iguess.”“I’m telling you, it’sXimenaChin’s fault,”Maya continued. “It’s only because of her. If she hadn’t

startedthisyear,everythingwouldbethesameasitwas.She’sthebadinfluence.”

IknewthatthatwashowMayasawthings.ItwasoneofthereasonsIneverwentintotoomuchdetailaboutthedanceshowIwasin.Sheneverreallygotthatitwasjustme,Summer,andthedreadedXimenaChin.And thatwasfinebyme!Ididn’twant tohave todefendmyfriendshipwithXimena toMaya! Ihonestlydon’tthinkshewouldhaveunderstood.“Youknowwhat Ihate themost?”Mayasaid.“Ihate thatshe’sprobablygoing toendupgiving the

fifth-gradecommencementspeechatgraduationthisyear.”“Well,shedoeshavethebestgradesofanyone,”Ianswered,tryingtosoundasimpartialaspossible.“Ithoughtyouhadthebestgrades,Charlotte,”Linasaidtome.“No, Ximena does,”Maya interjected. She started counting off on her fingers. “Ximena. Charlotte.

Simon.Me.AndtheneitherAuggieorRemo.Auggie’sactuallygotbettergradesthanRemoinmath,buthe didn’t do that well in Spanish on his last few quizzes, and that’s bringing his whole grade pointaveragedown.”Maya always knewwhat everyone else got on their tests. She kept tabs on homework assignments,

essayscores.Younameit,ifithadagradeattachedtoit,Mayawouldaskyouaboutit.Andshehadanamazingwayofrememberingallthosedetails,too.“It’scrazyhowyoucanremembereverybody’sgrades,”saidLina.“It’sagift,”answeredMaya,notevenmeaningtobefunny.“Hey,didyoutellCharlotteaboutthenote?”Linaaskedher.“Whatnote?”Isaid.LikeImentioned,IwasalittleoutoftheloopwiththeseguysbecauseIhadn’t

hungaroundthemthatmuchtheselastfewweeks.“Oh,nothing,”saidMaya.“ShewroteEllieanote,”saidLina.Mayalookedupatmeandfrowned.“TellingherhowIfeel,”sheadded,peeringatmeovertherimsof

herglasses.Iimmediatelyhadasinkingfeelingaboutthisnote.“Whatdidyouwrite?”Iasked.Sheshrugged.“Justanote.”Linanudgedher.“Letherreadit!”“She’sgoingtotellmenottogiveittoher!”Mayaanswered,bitingtheendofherlong,curlyhair.“Atleastshowittome?”Isaid,nowreallycurious.“Comeon,Maya!”WehadstoppedattheintersectionofAmesfortand222ndStreettowaitforthelighttochange.“Fine,”Maya answered. “I’ll showyou.” She started digging into her coat pocket and pulled out a

well-wornUglydollenvelopewiththeword“Ellie”writtenontheoutsideinsilvermarker.“Okay.So,basically,IjustwantedtoletEllieknowhowIfeelaboutthewayshe’schangedthisyear.”Shepassedtheenvelopetome,andthennoddedformetoopenitandreadthenoteinside.

DearEllie,

I’mwriting as one of your oldest friends to tell you that you’ve really been actingdifferentlately,andIhopeyousnapoutofit.Idon’tblameyou.IblameitontheevilXimenaChin,who is negatively influencing you!First she twisted Savanna’s brain,

andnowshe’sturningyouintoaprettyzombiejustlikesheis.Ihopeyoustopbeingfriendswith her and remember all the good timeswe used to have. RememberMr.Browne’sNovemberprecept:“Havenofriendsnotequaltoyourself!”Canwepleasebefriendsagain?

Yourformerreallygoodfriend,Maya

Ifoldedthenoteupandputitbackinsidetheenvelope.Shewaslookingatmeexpectantly.“Isitstupid?”sheaskedme.Ihandedtheenvelopebacktoher.“No,it’snotstupid,”Ianswered.“Butasyourfriend,I’mtellingyouthatIdon’tthinkyoushouldgive

ittoher.”“Iknewyouwouldtrytotalkmeoutofit!”shesaid,annoyedanddisappointedbymyreaction.“No,I’mnottryingtotalkyououtofit!”Isaid.“Youshouldgiveittoherifyoureallywantto.Iknow

youmeanwell,Maya.”“I’mnottryingtomeanwell,”shesaidangrily.“I’mjusttryingtobetruthful!”“Iknow,”Isaid.BynowwehadcrossedthestreetandarrivedatCarvel,onlytoseehowsuper-busyitwasinside.The

lineat thecounterwentall theway to thedoor,andeverysingle tablewas full—mostlywithBeecherPrepkids.“Everyonehadthesameideaaswedid,”saidLinaregretfully.“It’stoocrowded,”Isaid.“Let’sforgetit.”Mayagrippedmyarm.“Look,there’sEllie,”shesaid.IfollowedhergazeandsawElliesittingwithXimena,Savanna,andGretchen—plusMiles,Henry,and

Amos—ata table in frontof thebirthdaycakecounter,whichwasall thewayon theother sideof theshop.“Let’s just go,” I said, pullingMayaby the arm.Linahad already startedkicking theball down the

block.ButMayastayedwhereshewas.“I’mgoingtogivehermynote,”shesaidslowly,herexpressionveryserious.SheheldthenoteIhad

justreturnedtoherinherlefthand,andnowshewaveditlikeatinyflag.“Ohno,you’renot,”Isaidquickly,pushingherhanddown.“Notnowatleast.”“Whynot?”Linacamebacktowardus.“Wait,youwanttogiveherthenotenow?”shesaidincredulously.“Infront

ofeverybody?”“Yes!”Mayaansweredstubbornly.“No,”Isaid,closingmyhandoverthenote.AllIcouldthinkofiswhatabigfoolshewouldmakeof

herselfifshedidthat.Elliewouldopenthenoteinfrontofeveryoneathertable,andtheywouldgetsomad at Ellie for the things she said aboutXimena and Savanna.Unforgivable things, really!But evenworse,theywouldtotallystartlaughingatheraboutthis.“Thisisthekindofthingyouwouldneverlivedown,Maya,”Icautioned.“Youwillabsolutelyregretit.Don’tdothis.”

Icouldtellshewasreconsidering.Herforeheadwasallscrunchedup.“Youcouldgive it tohersomeother time,” Icontinued, tuggingonhercoatsleeve thewaySummer

sometimestuggedonminewhenshewastalking.“Whenshe’salone.Youcouldevensendittoherinthemail, ifyouwant.Butdonotdoitnowinfrontofeveryone.I’mbeggingyou.Believeme,Maya.Thatwouldbeasocialcatastrophe.”I saw her rubbing her face. The thing withMaya is, she’s never cared about popularity or social

catastrophes.She’s sogoodatkeeping tabsonpeople’s test scoresandgrades,but shedoesn’thaveacluehowtoreadthesocialstuff.Shegetsthebasics,ofcourse—butinherblack-and-whiteworld,kidsareeitherniceorevil.There’snoin-between.Insomeways, that’salwaysbeenoneof thenicest thingsabouther.She’llgoup toanyoneand just

assumethey’refriends.Orshe’lldosomethingreallyniceforsomeoneoutoftheblue,likegivingAuggiePullmananUglydollkeychain,whichshedidjustlastweek.Butinsomeways,it’sreallybadbecauseshehasnodefensesreadyforwhenpeoplearen’tnicetoher.

She has no good comebacks. She just takes it all seriously.What’sworse, though, is that she doesn’talwaysgetwhenpeopledon’tfeelliketalkingtoher.Soshe’lljustkeepchatteringonoraskingquestionsuntilthepersonwalksaway.ItwasElliewhoactuallyputitkindofperfectlyafewmonthsagowhenweweregripingabouthowannoyingMayacouldbesometimes:“Mayamakesiteasyforpeopletobemeantoher.”AndnowMayawasabouttomakeitreallyeasyforEllietobemeantoher—infrontofawholebunch

of ice-cream-eatingkids!Because, despitemywords, despitemybasicallybeggingher not todo this,MayaMarkowitzwalkedintothestore,woveherwayinandoutofthecrowdofpeoplewaitinginline,andmarchedtothebacktablewhereEllieandthatwholegroupofmightygirlswassitting.LinaandIwatchedfromthesidewalkoutsidetheCarvel.Therewasafloor-to-ceilingwindowinthe

storefront,whichwastheperfectplacetoseeeventsunfold.Forasecond,itfeltlikeIwaslookingatoneofthosenaturevideosonPBS.IcouldalmosthearamanwithaBritishaccentnarratingtheaction.Observewhathappensastheyounggazelle,whichhasjuststrayedfromitsherd…IwatchedMayasaysomethingtoEllie,andhoweveryoneatthattablestoppedtalkingandlookedupat

Maya.…comestotheattentionofthelions,whohaven’teateninseveraldays.IsawherhandtheenvelopetoEllie,whoseemedabitconfused.“Ican’twatch,”saidLina,closinghereyes.Andnowthelions,hungryforfreshmeat,beginthehunt.

HowIStayedNeutral—AgainPrettymucheverythingIpredictedwouldhappenhappenedasIpredicted.AftergivingElliethenoteinfrontofeveryoneatthetable,Mayaturnedaroundandstartedwalkingaway.EllieandtheSavannagroupexchanged laughing looks, and before Maya had even reached the next table, Savanna, Ximena, andGretchengotoutoftheirchairstohuddlearoundEllieassheopenedtheenvelope.Icouldseetheirfacesclearly as they read the note. Ximena gasped at one point, while Savanna obviously thought it washilarious.Mayakeptwalkingacrosstheroomtowardtheexit,lookingatmeandLinaasshewalked.Believeit

ornot,shewassmilingatus.Icouldtellshewasactuallyveryhappy.Fromherpointofview,shewasgettingsomethingoffherchestthathadreallybeenbotheringher,and,sinceshedidn’tgiveahootwhatthepopulargroupthoughtabouther,shedidn’tseeherselfashavinganythingtolose.Thetruthis,Mayawasbeyond theirbeingable tohurther. ItwasonlyEllie shewasmadatbecauseElliehadbeenherfriend.ButMayareallydidn’tcarewhatthoseothergirlsthoughtabouther,orthattheymightbelaughingatherthisverymoment.Inaway,Ihavetoadmit:IadmiredMaya’sbravery.Havingsaidthat,Iknewthelast thingintheworldIwantedrightnowwastobeseenwithher,soI

startedwalkingawayfromthewindowbeforeshegotbackoutside.Iespeciallydidn’twantXimenatoseemethere,waitingforMayaoutside.Ididn’twantanyonetothinkIhadanythingtodowiththiskindofcraziness.JustlikeIhadmanagedtostayneutralinawaramongtheboys,Iwantedtostayneutralinwhatmight

haveturnedintoawaramongthegirls.

HowXimenaReactedSummertextedmelaterthatafternoon.DiduhearaboutwhatMayadid?Yes,Itexted.I’mwithXimenarightnow.We’reatmyplace.She’sreallyupset.Canyoucomeover?“Mom,”Isaid,justasweweregettingreadyfordinner.“CanIgotoSummer’shouse?”Momshookherhead.“No.”“Please?It’skindofanemergency.”Shelookedatme.“Whathappened?”“Ican’texplainnow,”Iansweredquickly,gettingmycoat.“Please,Mom?I’llbebacksoon,promise.”“Doesithavetodowiththedancenumber?”sheasked.“Kindof,”Ifibbed.“Okay,textmewhenyougetthere.ButIwantyouhomebysix-thirty.”Summer only lived four blocks away fromme, so I was there within ten minutes. Summer’s mom

buzzedmein.“Hi,Charlotte,they’reintheback,”shesaidwhensheopenedthefrontdoor.Shetookmycoat.ImademywaybacktoSummer’sbedroom,whereXimena,justasSummerhadtexted,wascryingon

Summer’sbed.Summerhadaboxoftissuesinherhandsandwasconsolingher.Theytoldmethewholestory,whichIpretendednottoknowtoomuchabout.MayahadhandedElliea

noteinfrontofeverybody,andthenotewasfullofreally“venomous”thingsaboutXimena.That’showtheydescribedittome.“Shecalledmeevil!”saidXimena,wipingtearsfromherface.“Imean,whatdidIeverdotoMaya?I

don’tevenknowher!”“IwastellingXimenathatMayacanbekindofsociallyawkwardsometimes,”saidSummer,patting

Ximena’sbacklikeamomwould.“Sociallyawkward?” saidXimena. “That’snot social awkwardness, that’s justmean!Doyouknow

whatit’sliketohaveeveryonereadingsomethingthatawfulaboutyou?Theypassedhernotearoundthetable, and everyone took turns reading it—even the boys. And everybody thought it was hysterical.Savannapracticallypeedherpants,shethoughtitwassofunny.IpretendedI thought itwasfunny, too!Ha-ha.Isn’t ithilariousthatsomebodyIbarelyknowblamesmeforturningpeopleintozombies?”Sheputairquotesontheword“zombies.”Thenshestartedcryingagain.“It’sawful,Ximena,”Isaid,bitingtheinsideofmycheek.“I’msosorryshedidthat.”“ItoldherwewouldtalktoMaya,”Summersaidtome.Igaveheralonglook.“Todowhat?”Iasked.“Totellherhowupsettingwhatshewrotewas,”Summeranswered.“Sincewe’refriendswithMaya,I

figuredwecouldexplainhowithurtXimena’sfeelings.”“Maya’snotgoingtocare,”Isaidquickly.“Shewon’tgetit,Ximena,believeme.”Howtoexplainto

her?“Honestly,Ximena,I’veknownMayaforyears,andinhermind, thiswasn’taboutyou. It’saboutEllie.She’sjustmadthatElliedoesn’thangoutwithheranymore.”“Obviously.Butthat’smyfault!”saidXimena.“Iknowthat,”Isaid,“butMayadoesn’tknowthat,andshejustwantstoblamesomeone.Shewants

everythingtogobacktothewayitwasinlowerschool.Andshefiguresit’syourfaultthatthingshavechanged.”“That’sjustidiotic!”Ximenasaid.“Iknow!”Isaid.“It’slikeSavannabeingmadatmeforhavingbeeninaTVcommercialonce.Itmakes

nosense.”“Howdoyouknowallthis?”askedXimena.“Didshetellyou?”“No!”Isaid.“Didyouknowaboutthenotebeforehand?”“No!”Isaid.Summerrescuedme.“SowhatdidElliesaywhenshereadMaya’snote?”sheaskedXimena.“Oh, she was so mad,” answered Ximena. “She and Savanna want to go all out on Maya, post

somethingsuper-meanaboutheronFacebookorwhatever.ThenMilesdrewthiscartoon.TheywanttopostitonInstagram.”ShenoddedforSummertohandmeafolded-uppieceofloose-leafpaper,whichIopened.Onitwasa

crudedrawingofagirl(whowasobviouslyMaya)kissingaboy(whowasobviouslyAuggiePullman).Underneathitwaswritten:“Freaksinlove.”“Wait,whyaretheybringingAuggieintoit?”Summerasked,incensed.“Idon’tknow,”shesaid.“Mileswasjusttryingtomakemelaugh.Everyonewaslaughinglikeit’sall

somekindofgiantjoke.ButIdon’tthinkit’sfunny.”“I’mreallysorry,Ximena,”Isaid.“WhydoesMayahateme?”sheaskedsadly.“Youjusthavetoputitoutofyourmind,”Iadvisedher.“Andnottakeitpersonally.Rememberyou

toldmeIhavetostopcaringsomuchwhatpeoplethinkaboutme?Youhavetodothesamething.ForgetwhatMayathinksaboutyou.”“Ididn’t ask tobepartofSavanna’sgroupwhen I startedatBeecherPrep,” saidXimena.“Ididn’t

knowwhoanyonewas,orwhowasfriendswithwho,orwhowasmadatwho.Savannawas thefirstpersonwhowasnicetome,that’sall.”“Well?”Ianswered,raisingmychinandmyshoulders.“That’snotexactlytrue.Iwasnicetoyou.”Ximenalookedsurprised.“Iwasnicetoyou,”Summeradded.“What,nowyouguysareganginguponme,too?”saidXimena.“No,noway,”saidSummer.“JusttryingtomakeyouseeitfromMaya’spointofview,that’sall.She’s

notameangirl,Ximena.Mayadoesn’tevenreallyhaveameanboneinherbody.She’smadatEllie,andElliehasbeenkindofmeantoherlately.That’sit.”“Elliehasn’treallyevenbeenmean,”Isaid.“Shejustditchedusforyouguys.Whichisfine.Idon’t

care.I’mnotMaya.”Ximenacoveredherfacewithherhands.

“Doeseverybodyhateme?”shesaid,lookingatusbetweenherfingers.“No!”webothanswered.“Wecertainlydon’t,”saidSummer,handingXimenaaboxofKleenex.Ximenablewhernose.“IguessIhaven’tbeenthatnicetoheringeneral,”shesaidquietly.“Drawingslikethisdon’thelp,”saidSummer,handingthesketchMileshadmadebacktoXimena.Ximenatookitandrippeditupintolotsoflittlepieces.“Justsoyouknow,”shesaid,“Iwouldneverhavepostedthat.AndItoldSavannaandEllienottodare

makeanymeancommentsaboutMayaonFacebookoranything.Iwouldneverbeacyber-bully.”“Iknow,”saidSummer.Shewasabouttosaysomethingelsewhentherewasaknockonthedoor.Summer’smompoppedherheadin.“Hey,guys,”shesaidcautiously.“Iseverythingokay?”“We’refine,Mom,”saidSummer.“Justsomegirldrama.”“Charlotte,yourmomjustcalled,”Summer’smomsaid.“Shesaysyoupromisedyou’dbehomeinten

minutes.”Ilookedatmyphone.Itwasalready6:20p.m.!“Thanks,”IsaidtoSummer’smom.AndthentoSummerandXimena:“Ibettergo.Areyougoingtobe

okay,Ximena?”Shenodded.“Thanksforcoming.Bothofyou,thanksforbeingsonice,”shesaid.“Ijustreallywanted

totalktosomeoneaboutit,butIcouldn’tactuallytalktoSavannaandEllie,youknow?”Wenodded.“Ibettergohome,too,”shesaid,standingup.Thethreeofuswalkeddownthehallwaytothefrontdoor,whereSummer’smomlookedlikeshewas

tryingtoorganizethecoats.“Whythelongfaces,girls?”sheaskedcheerfully.“Iwouldthinkyou’dbejumpingupanddownforjoy

about thebigday tomorrow!Afterall thoserehearsalsandall thehardworkyou’veput into it. Ican’twaittoseeyouguysdancing!”“Ohyeah,”Ianswered,nodding.IlookedatSummerandXimena.“Itisprettyexciting.”SummerandXimenastartedsmiling.“Yeah,”saidXimena.“I’mactuallykindofnervous,”saidSummer.“I’veneverdancedinfrontofanaudiencebefore!”“You just have to pretend they’re not there,” answered Ximena. You would never know that two

minutesagoshe’dbeencrying.“That’sawesomeadvice,”saidSummer’smom.“That’swhatIsaid,too!”Ichimedin.“Areyourparentsgoingtobethere,Ximena?”Summer’smomasked.“Ilookforwardtomeetingthem

atthebanquet.”“Yeah,”sheansweredpolitely,smilingwithherdimpleonfullpowernow.“Alltheparentsaresittingatthesametable,”Isaid.“AndMrs.Atanabiandherhusband.”“Ohgood,”saidSummer’smom.“I’mlookingforwardtohangingoutwitheveryone.”“Bye,Summer.Bye,Mrs.Dawson,”saidXimena.

“Bye!”Isaid.Wewalked down the stairs to the lobby together,Ximena andme, and then headeddown the block

towardMainStreet,whereshewouldmakealeftturnandIwouldmakearightturn.“Youfeelingbetternow?”Isaidaswestoppedonthecorner.“Yeah,”sheanswered,smiling.“Thanks,Charlotte.You’vebeenareallygoodfriend.”“Thanks.You,too.”“Nah.”Sheshookherhead,playingwiththefringesofmyscarf.Shegavemealonglook.“IknowI

could’vebeennicertoyousometimes,Charlotte.”Thenshehuggedme.“Sorry.”Ihavetosay,itfeltreallyawesomehearingthatfromher.“Coolbeans,”Isaid.“Seeyoutomorrow.”“Bye.”IwalkedpasttherestaurantsalongAmesfortAvenue,whichwerefinallystartingtogetbusyagainnow

thattheweatherwasbecomingwarmer.Icouldn’tstopthinkingaboutwhatXimenahadjustsaid.Yeah,shecould’vebeennicertomesometimes.CouldIhavebeennicertosomepeople,too?Istoppedatthebigintersectionforthelight.That’swhenInoticedthebackofamaninanorangeparka

boardingabus.Withablackdognexttohim.Thedogwaswearingaredbandanna.“GordyJohnson!”Icalledout,runningafterhimassoonasthelightchanged.Heturnedwhenheheardhisname,butthedoorsofthebusclosedbehindhim.

HowMrs.AtanabiWishedUsWellIntheupper-floorstudiosofCarnegieHall,whichiswhereMrs.Atanabihadusgetreadyfortheshow,there’s a hallwaywith framed pictures and programs of some of the great dancerswho’ve performedthereovertheyears.Aswewalkeddownthathallonthewaytochangeintoourcostumes,Mrs.Atanabipointedtooneofthephotographs.ItwasapictureoftheDuncanDancers,IsadoraDuncan’sdaughters,posingverytheatricallyinlongwhitetunics.ItwasdatedNovember3,1923.

“Look, they’re just like the threeofyou!”shechirpedhappily.“Letmetakeapictureofyougirls infrontofit,”shesaid,pullingoutherphoneandaimingittowardus.Thethreeofusinstantlyposednexttothepicture,standingthesamewaythedancerswere:meonthe

left, hands in the air facing right; Summer on the right, hands in the air facing left; andXimena in themiddle,armsspreadoutinfrontofherfacingthecamera.Mrs.Atanabisnappedseveralshots,untilshewascontentwithone,andthenthefourofus—because

Mrs.Atanabiwaseverybitasexcitedasweweretonight—giddilytrottedtothebackroomtogetintoourcostumes.Weweren’ttheonlyonesperformingtonight.TheUpperSchoolJazzEnsembleandtheUpperSchool

Chamber Choir were already there.We could hear the sounds of trumpets and saxophones and otherinstruments echoing through the hallways, and the choir doing warm-ups in a large room next to ourdressingroom.Mrs.Atanabihelpeduswithourhairandmakeup.Itwassoawesomehowshetransformedeachofour

hairstylesintobig,roundbouffantswithcurled,flicked-upends,toppedbyacloudofhairspray.Althoughweallhadsuchdifferenttypesofhair,Mrs.Atanabisomehowmadeusmatchperfectly!Weweregoingon last. It felt like sucha longwait!Weheldhands thewhole timeand tried to talk

ourselvesoutofbeingcompletelypanicked.Whenitwasfinallytimeforustogoon,Mrs.Atanabibroughtusdownstairstothebackstageofthe

SternAuditorium.Wepeeked through thecurtainsat theaudienceas theUpperSchoolChamberChoirfinisheditslastsong.Thereweresomanypeople!Youcouldn’tmakeoutanyone’sface,becauseitwassodark,butitwasthebiggestauditoriumIhadeverseen—withbalconiesandgildedarchesandvelvetwalls!Mrs. Atanabi had us take our positions behind the curtains: Ximena in the middle, me on the left,

Summerontheright.Thenshefacedus.“Girls, you’veworked sohard,” shewhispered, her voice shakingwith emotion. “I can’t thankyou

enoughforallthetimeyou’veputintomakingmypiececometolife.Yourenergy,yourenthusiasm…”Hervoicecracked.Shewipedatearawayexcitedly.Ifwehadn’treadthatarticleabouther,wemight

nothaveunderstoodwhythiswasallsoimportanttoher.Butweknew.Wenevertoldherwehadfoundthatarticleabouther.Thatweknewaboutherchildhoodfriend.Wefiguredifshehadwantedustoknow,shewouldhavetoldus.Butknowingthatlittlepieceofherstorysomehowmadethedanceandeverythingleadinguptoitthatmuchmorespecial.Funnyhowallourstorieskindofintertwine.Everyperson’sstoryweavesinandoutofsomeoneelse’sstory.“I’mjustsoproudofyou,girls!”shewhispered,kissinguseachonourforehead.The audiencewas applauding the choir,which had just finished.As the singers streamed backstage

throughthewings,Mrs.AtanabimadeherwayaroundthefrontofthestagetowaitforMr.Tushmantointroduceher,andwetookourpositions.WecouldhearMrs.Atanabiintroducingthenumberwewereabouttodance,andus.“Thisisit,guys!”Ximenawhisperedtousasthecurtainstartedtorise.Wewaitedforthemusictostart.Five.Six.Five-six-seven-eight!It’stheshingaling,baby!

HowWeDancedIwishIcoulddescribeeverysecondofthoseelevenminutesonstage,everymove,everyjump.Everyshimmy and twist. But of course I can’t. All I can say is that the whole thing went ABSOLUTELYPERFECTLY.Not onemissed cue or fumble.Basically, for eleven solidminutes, it felt likeweweredancing ten feet above the rest of theworld. Itwas themost thrilling, exciting, tiring, emotional, fun,awesomeexperienceofmylife,andaswerampeduptothebigfinish,stoplightingtowellletmetellyounobody, nobody before busting into Mrs. Atanabi’s signature shingaling, which was a variation sheinvented,Icouldfeeltheenergyoftheentireaudienceastheyclappedalongtothesong.Nobody,nobody,Nobody,nobodyNobody,nobody…Andthenweweredone.Itwasover.Outofbreath,beamingfromeartoear.Thunderousapplause.The three of us bowed in sync, and then we took our individual bows. The audience hooted and

hollered.Ourparentswerereadywithflowersforus.Andmymomhandedmeanextrabouquet,whichwegave

toMrs.Atanabiwhenshecameonstagewithusto takeabow.Iwished,forasecond, thatall thefifthgraderswho’dever laughedbehindMrs.Atanabi’sbackcouldseehernow,right thisminute,asIwasseeingher.Inherbeautifulgown,herbunperfectlymade—shelookedlikeaqueen.

HowWeSpenttheRestoftheNightAlittlelater,afterchangingoutofourcostumes,wejoinedourparentsfordinnerinthebanquethall

downstairs.Aswewoundourwaythroughtheroundtablesfullof teachers,otherparents,anda lotofgrown-upswedidn’tknow,peoplecongratulatedusandcomplimentedourdancing.Ithoughttomyself,Thisiswhatitfeelsliketobefamous.AndIlovedit.Ourparentswereallsittingtogetheratatablebythetimewegotthere,alongwithMrs.Atanabiand

herhusband.Therewasalittleroundofapplausefromthemaswesatdown,andthen,basically,wespentthe restof theevening talking toeachothernonstop,breakingdownevery secondof thedance,wherewe’dbeennervousaboutnotmakingaparticularkick,wherewe’dgottenalittledizzycomingoutofaspin.Before dinner was served, Dr. Jansen, the headmaster of the school, gave a short speech thanking

everyoneforcomingtothebenefit,andthenaskedMrs.Atanabi,aswellasthechoirteacherandthejazzteacher,tostandupforanotherroundofapplause.Ximena,Summer,andIcheeredasloudaswecould.Then he talked about other things, like financial goals and fund-raising, and stuff thatwas so boring Icouldn’twaitforhimtostop.Later,afterwe’dfinishedoursalads,Mr.Tushmanmadeaspeechabouttheimportance of supporting the arts at Beecher Prep so the school could continue to nurture the kind of“talent” they’dwatched tonight.And this time he asked all the studentswho had performed tonight tostandupagainforanotherroundofapplause.Aroundtheroom,thekidsfromthejazzensembleandchoirstoodupwithvaryingdegreesofwillingnessandshyness.Thethreeofus, though,weren’ttheleastbitshyaboutstandingupforanotherroundofapplause.WhatlIcansay?Bringiton!By the time coffee was being served, all the speeches were over, and people had started walking

aroundandmingling.Isawonecouplecomeovertoourtable,butIcouldn’trememberwhotheywereuntilSummerjumpedoutofherseattohugthem.ThenIknew.Auggie’sparents.TheykissedSummer’smomandthencircledaroundtomeandXimena.“Youguysweresoamazing,”Auggie’smomsaidsweetly.“Thankyousomuch,”Ianswered,smiling.“Youmustbesoproudofthem,”Auggie’sdadsaidtoMrs.Atanabi,whowasnexttoSummer.“Iam!”Mrs.Atanabisaid,beaming.“Theyworkedsohard.”“Congratsagain,girls,”saidAuggie’smom,givingmyshoulderalittlesqueezebeforemakingherway

backtoSummer’smom.“SayhitoAuggieforme,”Icalledout.“Wewill.”“Wait,thosewereAuggie’sparents?”Ximena.“Theylooklikemoviestars.”“Iknow,”Iwhisperedback.“Whatareyouguyswhisperingabout?”saidSummer,comingbetweenus.“Shedidn’tknowtheywereAuggie’sparents,”Iexplained.

“Oh,”saidSummer.“Hisparentsaresonice.”“It’sreallyironic,”saidXimena.“They’resogood-looking.”“HaveyoueverseenAuggie’sbigsister?”Isaid.“She’ssuper-pretty.Likeshecouldbeamodel.It’s

crazy.”“Wow,”saidXimena.“IguessIthought,Idon’tknow,thatthey’dallkindoflooklikeAuggie.”“No,”Summersaidgently.“It’slikewithyourbrother.It’sjusthowhewasborn.”Ximenanoddedslowly.Icouldtell,smartasshewas,she’dneverthoughtofitlikethatbefore.

HowIFellAsleep—Finally!Wedidn’tgethomeuntilprettylatethatnight.Iwassuper-tiredasIwashedallthemakeupoffmyfaceand got ready for bed. But then, I don’t knowwhy, I couldn’t fall asleep. All the night’s events keptcrashingovermelikesoftwaves.Ifelt thewayyoufeel likewhenyou’reonaboat,rockingbackandforth.Mybedwasfloatinginanocean.Afterabouthalfanhouroftossingandturning,Ipickedmyphoneupfromwhereitwaschargingonmy

nightstand.

Anyoneup,

ItextedSummerandXimena.Itwasaftermidnight.Iwassuretheywereasleep.

Justwanteduguys toknowthat I thnkur the twomostamazingpeople in theworldandImgladwegottobsuchgoodfriendsforawhile.Illalwaysremembrthisnight.Itstheshingaling,baby!

Iput thephonebackon thenightstandandkarate-choppedmypillow tomake it comfy. I closedmyeyes,hopingsleepwouldcome.JustasIfeltmyselffinallydriftingoff,myphonebuzzed.Itwasn’tXimenaorSummer.Weirdlyenough,itwasEllie.

Hey,Charly, Imsureursleepingbutmyparents justcamehomefromthegalaandsaidyouguyswereabsolutelyunbelievablyincredible.Proudofyou.WishIcouldabeentheretoseeyoudance.Youdeserveit.Letstrytohangoutafterschoolnextweek.Missu.

Itsoundsstupid,buthertextmademesohappy,tearsinstantlywelledupinmyeyes.

Thnxsomuch,Ellie!Itextedback.

Wishucould’vebeentheretoo.Wouldlovetohangnextweek.MissU2.G’night.

HowMayaWasSurprisedandSurprisedUsAllIwokeupfeelingsoexhaustedthenextmorning,Momletmegotoschoollate.IsawthatbothXimenaandSummerhadtextedmefirstthinginthemorning.

XimenaChinIfeelthesameway,Charlotte.Whatanight!

SummerDawsonI<3U2!

Ididn’ttextthembackbecauseIknewtheywereinclass.Imissedthefirstthreeperiods,anddidn’tseeeitherofthemuntillunch.Summer,asusual,wassittingwithAuggieandJack.AndXimena,asusual,wasattheSavannatable.Forafractionofasecond,IwasgoingtogooverandsayhellotoXimena,buttheimageofMayastandinginfrontofthatsamegroupofkidsyesterdaywasstillfreshinmyhead—andIdidn’twant togiveXimenaeven the sliverof a chanceofdisappointingmewithanythingbut a reallyfriendlyhello.SoIwavedtoherandSummerasIwalkedover tomyusual table,andsatdownnext toMaya.The

girlsatmytableaskedmehowlastnighthadgone—someofthemhadheardaboutitfromtheirparents—but I spared them toomany details because I knew they’d lose interest after thirty seconds.Which isexactlywhathappened.NotthatIcouldblamethem,really.Themain thing on theirminds—in fact, theonly thing theywanted to talk about—was the note that

MayahadgiventoEllieyesterdayinCarvel.Thatnote,itturnedout—whichbynowhadbeenquotedorreadaloudbyhalf thegrade—wasMaya’s first ticket to akindofpopularity she’dnever experiencedbefore.Peopleweretalkingabouther.Kidswerepointingherouttocurioussixthgraderswhohadalsoheardaboutthenote.“I’mthequeenoftheunderdogstoday!”Mayaherselfsaid.Icouldtellshefelttriumphant.Shelikedtheattentionshewasgetting.Ihad intendedto tellherhowhurtXimenahadbeenbyhernote,howithadmadehercry.But, ina

strangeway,Ialsodidn’twanttorainonMaya’sparade.“Hey,you!”saidSummer,nudgingmesoIcouldscootover.“Hey!”Isaid,surprisedtoseeherthere.Ilookedoverathertable,butAuggieandJackhadalready

left.“Hi,Summer,”saidMayaeagerly.“Didyouhearaboutmynote?”Summersmiled.“Yes,Idid!”sheanswered.“Didyoulikeit?”Mayaasked.IcouldtellSummerdidn’twanttohurtMaya’sfeelings,either,soshehesitatedinanswering.

“WhereareAuggieandJack?”Iinterjected.“Workingonsometop-secretnotestoleaveinJulian’slocker,”sheanswered.“Anotelikemine?”saidMaya.Summershookherhead.“Idon’tthinkso.LovenotesfromsomeonenamedBeulah.”“Who’sBeulah?”Isaid.Summerlaughed.“It’stoohardtoexplain.”I noticed thatXimenawas looking at us from all theway across the cafeteria. I smiled at her. She

smiledback.Then,tomysurprise,shegotupandwalkedovertoourtable.Everybody at the table stopped talking as soon as they saw her standing there.Without even being

asked,MeganandRandscootedapartandXimenasatdownbetweenthem,directlyoppositeMaya,me,andSummer.Mayawascompletelyshocked.Hereyeswereopenwide,andshealmostlookedalittlescared.Ihad

noideawhatwouldhappennext.Ximenaclaspedherhandsinfrontofher,leanedforward,andlookedstraightatMaya.“Maya,” she said, “I justwant to apologize if I’veever saidordoneanything to insultyou. Inever

meantto,ifthat’sthecase.Iactuallythinkyou’reareallynicepersonandsuper-smartandinteresting,andIreallyhopethatwecanbefriendsfromnowon.”Mayablinked,butshedidn’tsayanything.Hermouthwasliterallyhangingopen.“Anyway,”saidXimena,nowseemingalittleshy,“Ijustwantedtotellyouthat.”“That’ssoniceofyou,Ximena,”saidSummer,smiling.Ximenalookedatuswiththatwinkingexpressionofhers.“It’stheshingaling,baby!”shesaid,whichmadeusbothsmile.Then,asquicklyasshe’dsatdownwithus,shegotupandwalkedbacktohertable.Ilookedoutofthe

cornerofmyeyeandsawEllieandSavannawatchingher.Assoonas shesatdownather table, theycameinclosetohearwhatshehadtosay.“Thatwassoniceofher,wasn’tit?”SummersaidtoMaya.“I’mshocked,”answeredMaya,takingherglassesofftowipethem.“Totallyshocked.”Summergavemealittleknowinglook.“Maya,whateverhappenedtothatgiantgameofdotsyouwereworkingon?”Isaid.“Oh, Ihave ithere!” sheansweredeagerly.“I toldyou Iwaswaitinguntilyou’rearound toplay it.

Why?Youwanttoplayitnow?”“Yeah!”Ianswered.“Ido.”“Me,too,”saidSummer.Maya gasped, grabbed her backpack, and pulled out a tube of paper that was folded in thirds and

slightlybentatthetop.Wewatchedherunfolditandcarefullyunwindthesheetofpaper,whichtookuptheentirewidthandlengthofthelunchtable.Whenitwascompletelystretchedout,wealllookedatit.Stunned.Therewasn’tonesquareinchofthegiganticpaperthatwasn’tcoveredindots.Perfectlydrawn,evenly

spacedlinesofdots.Butnot justdots.Beautifulgridpatternsconnectedbyswirls.Wavesof lines thatended in spirals, or flowers, or sunbursts. It almost looked like tattoo art, thewayblue ink can coversomeone’sarmsocompletely,youdon’tknowwhereonetattoostartsandanotherends.

ItwasthemostunbelievablybeautifulgameofdotsI’veeverseen.“Maya,thisisincredible,”Isaidslowly.“Yeah!”shesaidhappily.“Iknow!”

HowSomeThingsChanged,andSomeThingsDidn’t

Thatwastheonlytime,andthelasttime,thatSummer,Ximena,andIsatatalunchtabletogether.Oratany table, for that matter.We went back to our different groups. Ximena with Savanna. Summer andAuggie.MeandMaya.Andthat,honestly,wasfinewithme.Sure.Maybetherewaspartofme,thepartthatloveshappyendings,thatwishedthingshadchanged.

XimenaandElliewouldsuddenlyswitchtablesandstartsittingatmytable,alongwithSummer.Maybewe’dstartanewlunchtabletogether,withJackandAuggie,andReid—andAmos!—atthetablenexttoours.Butthetruthis,Iknewthingswouldn’tchangemuch.Iknewitwouldbethewayithadbeenafterthe

sleepover.Likewehadtakenasecrettriptogether.Avoyagethatnooneelseknewabout.Andwhenwereturnedfromourjourney,weeachwentbacktoourownhomes.Somefriendshipsarelikethat.Maybeeventhebestfriendshipsarelikethat.Theconnectionsarealwaysthere.They’rejustinvisibletotheeye.WhichiswhySavannawouldhavenoideathatSummerandIgottoknowherfriendXimenaaswellas

wedid.AndwhyMayawouldn’tunderstandtheeffecthernotehadonmeandSummer.OrwhyAuggiedidn’tknowthefirstthingaboutanyofthisstuffthatwasgoingon.“Hehashisownstufftoworryabout,”Summerhadtoldmeonce,whensheexplainedwhyshehadnevereventoldAuggieshe’dgottenpickedtobeinMrs.Atanabi’sdance.“Hedoesn’tneedtoknowaboutallthisgirldrama.”That’snottosaytherehaven’tbeensomechangesthathavehappened.Asweenteredour last fewmonthsof fifthgrade, Idefinitelynoticed thatXimenamademoreof an

effort tobranchout toothergirls inourgrade.Andwhensheseesme in thehallwaynow,shealwaysgivesmeawarmhello—regardlessofwhether she’swithSavanna.Also, even thoughEllieandMayaneverpatchedthingsup,EllieandIhavehungoutafterschoolacoupleoftimes.Notthatit’slikeitusedtobe,ofcourse.Butit’ssomething,andI’lltakeit.Smallsteps,asMrs.Atanabiwouldsay.Itstartswithsmallsteps.And the truth is, even if Ximena, Savanna, and Ellie did suddenly inviteme to sit at their table, I

wouldn’tgonow.Itjustwouldn’tseemright.Firstofall,Iwouldn’twanttogetanangrynotefromMayaorhaveherbareherteethatmeacrossaroomButmostly,it’sbecauseIrealizedsomethingthedaysheunrolledhermagnificentdotgameacrossthelunchtable:Maya’sbeenmyfriendthroughthickandthin.My friend friend.All theseyears. Inher clumsy, loyal, slightly annoyingway.She’s never judgedme.She’salwaysacceptedme.Andthatgroupofgirlsatmylunchtable,theonesIhavenothingincommonwith?Well,guesswhat?Wehavealunchtableincommon!Andaridiculouslybeautifulgameofdotsthatwe play over lunch,with the different-coloredmarkersMaya’s assigned to each and every one of us.Whichwehavetouseorshegetsreallymadatus.Butthat’sjustMaya.Andthatwillneverchange.

HowITalkedtoMr.TushmanThelastdayofschool,Mr.Tushman’sassistant,Mrs.Garcia,foundmeinseventhperiodandaskedifIwouldcometalktoMr.Tushmanrightafterschool.Mayaoverheardherandstartedgiggling.“Ooh,ooh,Charlotte’sintrouble,”shesang.Webothknewthatwasn’tthecase,though,andthatitprobablyhadtodowiththeawardstheywere

givingouttomorrow.EveryoneassumedthatIwouldwintheBeechermedalbecauseIhadorganizedthecoatdrive,andthemedalusuallywenttothestudentwhodidthemostcommunityservice.IknockedonMr.Tushman’sdoorrightafterthelast-periodbell.“Comein,Charlotte,”hesaidenthusiastically,signalingformetositatthechairinfrontofhisdesk.IalwayslovedMr.Tushman’soffice.Hehadallthesefunpuzzlesontheedgeofhisdesk,andartwork

fromkidsovertheyearsframedandhangingonthewalls.InoticedimmediatelythathehadAuggie’sself-portraitasaduckdisplayedbehindhisdesk.AndthensuddenlyIknewwhatthismeetingwasabout.“So,areyouexcitedabouttomorrow’sgraduationceremony?”heasked,crossinghishandsinfrontof

himonthedesk.Inodded.“Ican’tbelievefifthgradeisalmostover!”Ianswered,unabletorestrainmyhappiness.“It’shardtobelieve,isn’tit?”hesaid.“Doyouhaveplansforsummer?”“I’mgoingtodancecamp.”“Oh,howfun!”heanswered.“Youthreeweresoamazingat thebenefit inMarch.Likeprofessional

dancers.Mrs.Atanabiwassoimpressedwithhowhardyouworked,andhowwellyouworkedtogether.”“Yeah,itwassomuchfun,”Isaidexcitedly.“That’sgreat,”hesaid,smiling.“I’mgladyou’vehadagoodyear,Charlotte.Youdeserveit.You’ve

been a joyful presence in thesehallways, and I appreciate howyou’ve alwaysbeennice to everyone.Don’tthinkthingslikethatgounnoticed.”“Thankyou,Mr.Tushman.”“ThereasonIwantedtohavealittlewordwithyoubeforetomorrow,”hesaid,“andI’mhopingyou

cankeepitbetweenus,isthatIknowyouknowthatamongthemanyhonorsIgiveouttomorrow,oneofthemistheBeechermedal.”“You’regivingittoAuggie,”Iblurtedout.“Right?”Helookedsurprised.“Whydoyousaythat?”heasked.“Everybody’sassumingI’mgettingit.”Helookedatmecarefully.Thenhesmiled.“Youareaverysmartgirl,Charlotte,”hesaidgently.“I’mfinewiththat,Mr.Tushman,”Isaid.“ButIwantedtoexplain,”heinsisted.“Because,thetruthofthematteris,hadthisbeenlikeanyother

ordinaryyear,youwouldprobablybegettingthatmedal,Charlotte.Youdeserveit—notonlybecauseof

allthehardworkyoudidonthecoatdrive,butbecause,likeIjustsaidbefore,you’vebeenareallynicepersontoeveryone.Istillrememberhow,rightfromthestartwhenIaskedyoutobeAuggie’swelcomebuddy,youembracedthatwholeheartedlyandwithoutequivocation.”HaveImentionedhowmuchIlovethefactthatheusesbigwordsandassumesweunderstandthem?“But,asyouknow,”hesaid,“thisyearhasbeenanythingexceptordinary.Andwhen Iwas thinking

aboutthisaward, thinkingaboutwhatitrepresents,Irealizedthat itcanbeaboutmorethancommunityservice—nottodevaluethatatall.”“No,Iknowtotallywhatyoumean,”Iagreed.“WhenIlookatAuggieandallthechallengeshehastofaceonadailybasis,”hesaid,pattinghisheart.

“I’minaweofhowhemanagestosimplyshowupeveryday.Withasmileonhisface.AndIwanthimtohavevalidationthatthisyearwasatriumphforhim.Thathe’smadeanimpact.Imean,thewaythekidsralliedaroundhimafter thehorribleincidentat thenaturereserve?Itwasbecauseofhim.He inspiredthatkindnessinthem.”“Icompletelygetwhatyoumean,”Isaid.“AndIwantthisawardtobeaboutkindness,”hecontinued.“Thekindnessweputoutintheworld.”“Totally,”Iagreed.Heseemedgenuinelydelightedbymyattitude.Andalittlerelieved,Ithink.“I’msogladyouunderstand,Charlotte!”hesaid.“Iwantedtotellyoubeforehand,soyouwouldn’tbe

disappointedduringtheceremonytomorrow,since,asyousay,everyone’sassumingyou’regettingit.Butyouwon’ttellanyone,right?Iwouldn’twanttoruinthesurpriseforAuggieorhisfamily.”“CanItellmyparents?”“Ofcourse!ThoughI’mplanningongivingthemacallmyselftonighttotellthemjusthowproudIam

ofyouatthisverymoment.”Hegotupandreachedacrossthetabletoshakemyhand,soIshookhishand.“Thankyou,Charlotte,”hesaid.“Thankyou,Mr.Tushman.”“Seeyoutomorrow.”“Bye.”Istartedwalkingtowardthedoor,but thenthisonethoughtpoppedintomyhead, likeafully

formedidea.Ihadnocluewhereitcamefrom.“Buttheawardcangototwopeople,right?”Iasked.Helookedup.Forasecond,IthoughtIsawthetiniestbitofdisappointmentinhiseyes.“Ithas,ona

few occasions, gone to a couple of students who’ve done a community service project together,” heanswered,scratchinghisforehead.“ButinthecaseofAuggieandyou,Ithink,thereasonshewouldbegettingitaresodifferentfromthereasonsyouwouldbe—”“No,I’mnottalkingaboutAuggieandme,”Iinterrupted.“IthinkSummershouldgetthataward.”“Summer?”“She’sbeensuchanamazingfriendtoAuggieallyearlong,”Iexplained.“Andnotbecauseyouasked

her tobehiswelcomebuddy, likewithmeandJack.She justdid it! It’s likewhatyou just saidaboutkindness.”Mr.Tushmannodded,likehewasreallylisteningtowhatIwassaying.“Imean,I’vebeennicetoAuggie,”Isaid,“butSummerwaskind.That’slikenicetothetenthpower

orsomething.DoyouknowwhatImean?”“Iknowexactlywhatyoumean,”heanswered,smiling.Inodded.“Good.”“I really appreciate your telling me all this, Charlotte,” he said. “You’ve given me much to think

about.”“Awesome.”Hewaslookingatmeandnoddingslowly,likehewasdebatingsomethinginhishead.“Letmeaskyou

something,though,”hesaid,pausingasifheweretryingtofindtherightwords.“DoyouthinkSummerwouldwantamedaljustforbeingfriendswithAuggie?”Themomenthesaidit,Iknewexactlywhathemeant.“Oh!”Isaid.“Waitaminute.You’reright.Shewouldn’t.”Forsomereason,theimageofMayabaringherteethattheSavannatableacrosstheroompoppedinto

myhead.Friendsdefinitelyaren’taboutthemedals.“Butletmethinkaboutittonight,”hesaid,gettingup.“No,you’reright,”Ianswered.“It’sgoodthewayyouhadit.”“Yousure?”Inodded.“Thanksagain,Mr.Tushman.Seeyoutomorrow.”“Seeyoutomorrow,Charlotte.”Weshookhandsagain,butthistimehetookmyhandinbothofhisown.“Justsoyouknow,”hesaid.“Beingniceisthefirststeptowardbeingkind.It’saprettyawesomestart.

I’msupremelyproudofyou,Charlotte.”Maybe he knew it andmaybe he didn’t, but for someone likeme,words like that areworth all the

medalsintheworld.

HowXimenaRockedHerSpeechGoodmorning,Dr.Jansen,Mr.Tushman,DeanRubin,fellowstudents,faculty,teachers,andparents.I’mhonored tohavebeen asked togive the commencement speechonbehalf of the

fifthgradethisyear.AsIlookaroundatallthehappyfaces,Ifeelsoluckytobehere.Assomeof you know, thiswasmy first year atBeecherPrep. Iwon’t lie: Iwas a littlenervous about coming here at first! I knew that some kids have been here sincekindergarten,andIwasafraidIwouldn’tmakefriends.Butitturnsoutthatalotofmyclassmateswerealsonewtotheschool,likeme.Andeventhekidswhohavebeenhereawhile,well,middleschoolisabrand-newballgameforeveryone.It’sdefinitelybeena learning experience for all of us.With some bumps along the way. Some hits andmisses.Butit’sbeenawonderfulride.Earlierthisyear,IwasaskedtoperforminadancechoreographedbyMrs.Atanabi

fortheBeecherPrepBenefit.Itwasamazingforme.MyfellowdancersandIworkedreallyhard to learnhow todance together asone.That takes a lot of time.And trust.Now,youmaynotknowthisaboutme,butassomeonewho’sgonetoalotofdifferentnewschoolsovertheyears, trusthasn’talwaysbeeneasyformetogivepeople.ButIreallylearnedtotrustthesegirls.IrealizedIcouldbemyselfwiththem.AndI’llalwaysbegratefulforthat.IthinkwhatI’mmostlookingforwardtonextyear,myfellowfifthgraders,isbuilding

thattrustwithallofyou.Myhopeis,aswestartsixthgrade,aswegetolderandwiser,thatwealllearntotrusteachotherenoughsothatwecantrulybeourselves,andaccepteachotherforwhowereallyare.Thankyou.

HowIFinallyIntroducedMyselfIhadtextedSummerandXimenathedayIsawGordyJohnsongettingonanuptownbus,andwewereallthrilled toknowhewasaliveandwell.Therewas somuchelsegoingonat the time, though, thatwereallyhadn’thadthechancetotalkaboutittoomuch.Wegotexcited,keptoureyespeeledtoseeifwe’dspothimagainsomewhereelseintheneighborhood,butweneverdid.Hewasgone.Again.ThenexttimeIsawhimwasn’tuntilthebeginningofJuly.Suddenlyhewasthereagain,sittinginfront

oftheA&Psupermarketawning,playingthesamesongsonhisaccordionthathehadalwaysplayed,hisblackLabradorlyingdowninfrontofhim.Iwatchedhimforafewminutes.Istudiedhisopeneyes,rememberinghowtheyusedtoscareme.I

watchedhisfingerstappingthebuttonsontheaccordion.It’ssuchamysteriousinstrumenttome.Hewasplaying“ThoseWeretheDays.”Myfavoritesong.Iwentuptohimwhenhewasfinished.“Hi,”Isaid.Hesmiledinmydirection.“Hello.”“I’mgladyou’reback!”Isaid.“Thankyou,missy!”hesaid.“Wheredidyougo?”“Ohwell,”he said,“Iwent to staywithmydaughterdownsouth fora spell.TheseNewYorkCity

wintersaregettingtoughontheseoldbonesofmine.”“Itwasacoldwinter,that’sforsure,”Isaid.“That’sforsure!”“Yourdog’snameisJoni,right?”“That’sright.”“AndyournameisGordyJohnson?”Hetiltedhishead.“AmIsofamousthatyouknowmyname?”heasked,cackling.“MyfriendSummerDawsonknowsyou,”Ianswered.Helookedup,tryingtothinkofwhoImighthavebeentalkingabout.“Herfatherwasinthemarines?”Iexplained.“Hediedafewyearsago.SergeantDawson?”“SergeantDawson!”hesaid.“Ofcourse I rememberhim.Gloriousman.Sadnews. I remember that

familywell.YoutellthatlittlegirlIsayhello,okay?Shewasasweetchild.”“Iwill,”Ianswered.“Wehadactuallytriedtofindyou.SummerandIwereworriedaboutyouwhen

youweren’thereanymore.”“Oh,honey,”hesaid.“Youdon’tneeds toworryaboutme. Imakemywayaroundall right. I’mnot

homelessoranything.Igotaplaceofmyownuptown.Ijustliketohavesomethingtodowithmyself,togetoutwithJoni.Itaketheexpressbusinthemorningrightoutsidemybuilding.Getoutatthelaststop.It’saniceride.Icomehereoutofhabit,youknow?Nicepeoplehere,likeSergeantDawsonwas.Ilike

toplayforthem.Youlikemymusic?”“Yes!”Isaid.“Well,that’swhyI’mouthereplaying,girl!”hesaidexcitedly.“Tobrightenuppeople’sdays.”Inoddedhappily.“Okay,”Isaid.“Thankyou,Mr.Johnson.”“YoucancallmeGordy.”“I’mCharlotte,bytheway.”“Nicetomeetyou,Charlotte,”hesaid.Heextendedhishand.Ishookit.“Ibettergonow,”Isaid.“Itwasnicetalkingtoyou.”“Bye-bye,Charlotte.”“Bye-bye,Mr.Johnson.”Ireachedintomypocket,pulledoutadollarbill,anddroppeditintohisaccordioncase.Swoosh.“GodblessAmerica!”saidGordyJohnson.