True (. . . Sort Of) by Katherine Hannigan

your seat.
    â€œMs. Boyd,” he said, “please approach my desk.” Lionel Terwilliger whispered to her, and Ferris Boyd slumped out the door.
    She was gone for 1,768 seconds, because Delly counted.
    When she came back, she set a note on Lionel Terwilliger’s desk.
    â€œMs. Pattison,” he called out, “Ms. McDougal requests your presence.”
    â€œChizzle, chizzle, chizzle,” Delly muttered as she trudged down the hall.
    They made her sit outside the office through recess, because that was the cruelest thing to do.
    When she finally got in, Ms. McDougal took a deep breath. “Delaware,” she said, “you know about Ferris Boyd’s disappearance yesterday.”
    A gurgle came out of Delly, like she was drowning. Her head dropped.
    â€œI’ve spent time with Ferris this morning, trying to understand what happened.” The principal went on. “I asked her why she ran away, but she won’t communicate with me about it.”
    Delly’s head popped up.
    â€œAs you know, it’s unacceptable for a student to leave school. But Delly, Ferris is special, and I’ve decided to let it go this time. I hope you understand why she’s being treated differently from the way you were.”
    Delly couldn’t believe it—Ms. McDougal was asking if it was okay to let Ferris Boyd off the hook. She nodded and got up to go.
    â€œThere’s more,” the principal told her.
    She slid down again.
    â€œI’m worried about Ferris, that she’s always alone. I asked her if she had a friend she could share with. This was her reply.” Ms. McDougal pushed a small piece of paper across her desk.
    Delly picked it up. A big, dark No was written in the middle of it. But there was a line through that. In tiny letters at the bottom of the page was Delly.
    Suddenly there was a warm spot in the middle of Delly’s chest.
    â€œDelly, I am . . .” Ms. McDougal’s voice cracked, like she was choking on it. “Proud of you.”
    Delly choked up, too. “Can I keep it?” she rasped.
    â€œI think that would be all right,” Ms. McDougal answered.
    Delly put the paper in her right pants pocket. As she walked to her room, the warm spread out to her fingers and down to her toes.
    â€œI got a friend,” she whispered to the world, and her mouth couldn’t keep from smiling.

Chapter 30
    A fter school, Delly had to run to catch up with her friend. “Ferris Boyd!” she hollered, too happy.
    The girl flinched.
    â€œOops.” Delly tried again. “Hey, Ferris Boyd,” she breathed, and fell in beside her.
    The question paper was pinching her, but Delly wouldn’t ask, Mind if I come along? Instead, she said, “Since I don’t got too much going on, I guess I’ll go with you.”
    Side by side, they walked across the playground, over the bridge, and out the River Road. When they got to the old Hennepin place, Delly headed down the drive.
    Till she noticed no Ferris Boyd beside her. “Hey, where’d you . . . ?” She turned.
    The girl was back by the road.
    â€œFerris Boyd?” Delly called to her.
    The girl wouldn’t glance at her.
    Delly knew what somebody not wanting her around anymore looked like. Her friend was sick of her already. “All right then,” she mumbled, and clumped up the drive. As she passed Ferris Boyd, she felt the pinching.
    â€œI won’t ask,” she muttered.
    But the paper pinched so hard her leg went limp. “Fine, bawlgrammit,” she grumbled.
    Her throat tightened up so she could hardly speak. “Ferris Boyd,” she whispered, “do you want me to go home?”
    She couldn’t watch for an answer; a nod would hurt too much. She hung her head, and the two of them stood there.
    And it was like Delly was one of those birds, and Ferris Boyd was telling her something without a sound. “Oh,” she exclaimed.
    She gazed at the girl.