Fetching by Kiera Stewart Page B

something. Then she tries to storm back up to the front of the bus. Fortunately, we are making a turn and her balance is thrown. She plows into Kendall Kim, who, though pinned against the window, reminds her that his father is a lawyer. This time everyone in the back of the bus—the other losers like me—laughs. Not as loudly, not as surely. It might even be nervous laughter. But it still counts as laughter. And the best part about it is that no one is laughing at me .
    It’s a tiny victory, one barely visible to the naked eye, but still I feel a little rush of hope.

WEDNESDAY AT LUNCH, Mandy walks in and slumps into her seat at the table. “Someone stop me before I strangle Corbin Moon. He is so aggravating.”
    She says this through lips that are especially black today, like she did a double dose of Sharpie. It also looks like she went outside the lines a little. “What did he do?” I ask.
    â€œHe commented on my lips. He kind of tricked me,” she says, like she’s a little embarrassed. “First, he goes, ‘Wow, Mandy, there’s something different about you today.’ And the way he was saying it, I thought he was actually being cool for once. Then he tells me I look like I have a disease. This ignoring thing is really hard, Liv. I so wanted to tell him I’d give him a black eye disease if he didn’t shut up,” she says, balling up her fist as she talks.
    â€œBut you didn’t,” I say. Just to make sure, I ask, “Right?”
    She sighs. “No, I didn’t . But it’s been such a sucky day.”
    â€œI know,” Delia says, pulling strands of hair from her ponytail. Her skin may not be smoother, but since she and Mandy went shopping, it’s a lot more even-toned. Not that it seems to matter at this moment. She’s so upset, she hasn’t taken a bite of her soyburger.
    â€œWant to know what happened to me?” She glances around at all of us. “Tamberlin kept calling my name in third period. I tried to ignore her, but it got really annoying, and everyone else started poking me and calling me like they thought I couldn’t hear her. So I finally turn around, and she gasps and makes this face like she’s about to throw up, and tells me thanks, and says that looking at my face”—her voice cracks—“works a whole lot better than the appetite suppressants she’s been taking.”
    I wince. Then I give her a shoulder-hug. “I’m sorry, Dee. It’ll get better.”
    â€œYeah, Delia,” Phoebe adds.
    â€œI just want to”—Mandy holds up her fist—“pummel her. Pummel them all.”
    â€œI’m sure your day wasn’t worse than mine,” Joey says, unwrapping a Ding Dong and stuffing it into his face. He talks through a full mouth. “I was copying the math equations from the board when Danny Pritchard just stole my pencil from me.”
    â€œAnd?” Phoebe asks, removing the crust from her turkey sandwich. “So what did you do?”
    â€œNothing,” he says. “I just sat there looking like a total wuss, doing absolutely nothing. He laughed in my face.” He picks up the wrapper and smells it. “This ignoring thing blows .”
    â€œYou mean you just sat there without writing anything for the entire class?” I ask.
    â€œWell, Erin Monroe ended up giving me a pen. Except it was stupid. It was one of those pens with the big flowery thing at the end.”
    In popularity rankings, Erin Monroe is no school celebrity, but she’s not a total Marcie either. “So someone bailed you out,” I say. “That’s a good sign.”
    â€œWhatever,” he says with a shrug, fishing into his lunch bag for another treat. “I just think this is stupid.” He pulls out a package of baby carrots and makes a face. “No idea what my mom was thinking here,” he says, and then grabs my banana, which is