Bite Me! by Melissa Francis Page B

finally spoke. “You know, for the record, I think it really sucks that you and Ryan had to split up because of your parents.”
    â€œIt does suck, but I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice.”
    â€œLindsey’s my best friend, and I’m happy she’s finally with the boy she wanted, but I’m worried. I really like Ryan, but I’m just afraid she’s going to wind up getting hurt. Nobody wants to be the rebound girl.”
    â€œI can tell you from experience that good friends easethe pain of a broken heart.” I laughed. “Okay, not really. But they make me laugh and that does help. All you can do is be there for her if she needs you.”
    â€œI can do that,” she said.
    â€œEven though we’re not on each other’s pom-squad, I really hope Lindsey doesn’t get hurt. Getting over Ryan Fraser isn’t very easy. And that’s a fact.”
    Meredith smiled sympathetically. “Thanks again, AJ.”
    When Malia and I walked into the classroom, the busy hum of chatter came to an abrupt and very noticeable halt. I guess everyone knew I was the last person to see Noah alive. Great. AJ Ashe—kiss of death? Talk amongst yourselves. I took my seat in front of Ryan, who would not meet my eyes, while Malia found a desk on the other side of the room near the front.
    The bell rang and Mrs. Crandall and her evil assistant, Mrs. Young (who was, by my estimation, at least 150 years old), entered together.
    â€œQuiet,” Mrs. Crandall barked to the already silenced room. “There will be quiet in my classroom.”
    Mrs. Crandall took a long look around the room and stopped when her gaze found mine. “So you’ve returned to us, Miss Ashe. And just in time for a pop quiz. I do hope you did last night’s reading.”
    â€œNo, ma’am, I did not. I was a little bit preoccupied.”
    â€œMm. So I’ve heard. I guess Mr. James’s absence yesterday is excused after all.”
    The class gasped collectively, but not one person said a word.
    â€œThat’s a terrible thing to say!” I started to stand, but I felt Ryan’s hand on my shoulder.
    I kept my bottom in my chair.
    Mrs. Crandall quirked a bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrow as she watched our exchange. “Terrible? What is so terrible about the truth? I know you’ve had trouble with it from time to time, Miss Ashe, but I hardly think even you can say speaking the truth is a terrible thing.”
    She turned her attention away from me toward Malia. “Class, we have a new student. Malia Gervase. Oh yes, and one more thing. Before Mrs. Young passes out your pop quizzes, I must announce a seating change. Miss Ashe, please trade with Miss Gervase. Also, Mr. Charles left this for you.” She handed me a sealed envelope. “Now, desks clear and pencils at the ready.”

Chapter 11
    T hat wasn’t a pop quiz. That was a massacre. The only thing I answered correctly—the only question I answered period—was Name; and with Mrs. Crandall in charge of grading, I’d probably get points deducted for improper punctuation.
    â€œPainful,” Malia said as we left the classroom. “I bet she gets off on every wrong answer. Do you think maybe she and Mrs. Young grade the tests as foreplay?”
    â€œUgh. Thanks for the mental image. I can’t believe she made you take the test.”
    â€œShe told me I had plenty of time to do the reading so my absence was no excuse.” Malia rolled her eyes. “Where are you headed now?”
    â€œI have early lunch, then study hall.”
    â€œI’m exactly the opposite. I guess I’ll see you for fourth-period trig.”
    â€œI’ll be there,” I said, pulling out Mr. Charles’s note and an apple from my backpack. I was trying so hard to ignore the oppressive weight that was like liquid metal in my lungs. I felt Noah everywhere, and it was hard to breathe. Was he