C H A P T E R 3
MONDAY
I barely get up in time to walk the six blocks
to Middleton High. It’s a good thing my
first period is working as an assistant for the
school counselor, Mrs. Whyse, and I can
sleepwalk through my next couple of classes
after that.
At lunch, just as I step out of the line with
my tray of food, I hear an argument. It’s Annie,
the turquoise-haired junior from art class. She
flips a guy’s tray over, and peas and carrots
fly everywhere.
“Annie!” the guy says, holding up his
hands. “Nothing happened!”
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