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Dedication

For my yearbook and newspaper students who encouraged me to write. I hope you are pursuing your own dreams. And for Mary, my number one cheerleader, a young woman now, who is making a difference in the world. I am so proud that I was a part of your lives. I miss you all.

Finally, for baby Sophia. Your smile is my inspiration.

Chapter One

“Do you remember your first time?” My best friend, AJ Dawson, checked under the door to make sure her mother’s feet weren’t nearby.

I sighed, leaning against the cushioned, and surprisingly feminine, satin headboard of AJ’s twin bed. For the past six years, I’d been trying to erase that awful experience from my mind. “Yeah.”

“Who was it with?” Krysta Richards, my other best friend, scooted closer.

I shuddered as an icy chill swept up my spine. “My mom.” I focused on one of the millions of Clay Matthews posters on the bedroom wall, trying to shut out that painful memory.

AJ’s eyes widened. She pushed herself off of her beanbag chair and sat directly beneath me on her plush white carpet. “What was she thinking?”

I shifted my gaze to AJ’s petite, white cosmetic table, which looked ready to crumble under the weight of her athletic gear. “She was depressed about my grandma,” I breathed.

Next to the time my chubby butt split my too- tight leotards in ballet class, this was one Childhood memory I wanted to forget—my first telepathic experience. Though I heard my mother’s voice in my head clearly, she wasn’t speaking. She was on the phone, just listening, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. I thought I was going crazy.

Then the voice was louder, echoing in my skull. How can I live without her? But Mom’s lips didn’t move. After she hung up, she began to weep, and then fell to the floor in a motionless heap. My grandmother had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer and given three months to live.

Although I was just a child, I knew I had been listening to my mom’s thoughts.

At about that time, I met AJ and Krysta on the playground. We made unusual friends—AJ was the jock, Krysta was the princess, and until my recent transformation, I was the fat dork.

So how did we wind up as best friends? Our “gifts” drew us together. My friends were my safety net, AJ had visions and Krysta received visits from the dead. Around them, I didn’t feel like a freak and we pledged to keep our gifts secret.

Luckily for us, we didn’t have these supernatural experiences too often, or we’d have been labeled freaks at school. We just wanted to be teens, trying to survive the pressures of school, parents and fitting in.

Since this was the weekend, we could sit around in AJ’s room, listening to The Band Perry, while forgetting about the outside world. Unless we were interrupted by AJ’s mom.

“Whatcha doin’?” Mrs. Dawson, peered through a crack in the door.

“Go away,” AJ’s two favorite words for her mother.

AJ used this expression on her mom every ten minutes. Like clockwork, we could depend on Mrs. Dawson’s unannounced interruption into our privacy. She didn’t bother me so much but I didn’t have to live with it.

“Such a little snot,” Mrs. Dawson sweetly intoned and slammed the door behind her. That was that, until this exact dialogue would repeat itself ten minutes later.

Unless…every so often Mrs. Dawson added a twist to the routine, throwing me smack in the middle. Thank God she didn’t do it this time or I would be forced to answer the question, “Sophie, do you talk to your mother like this?”

I would look from mother to daughter, hoping one would give me an out. When neither spoke, they left me with no choice but to answer honestly, “No, Mrs. Dawson.”

AJ would roll her crystal blue eyes and say, “Her mother doesn’t interrupt us every ten minutes.”

AJ’s way of saying the word “mother” like it was some venomous, foul stench, always fascinated me. I suppose this wasn’t Mrs. Dawson’s fault. If AJ and Krysta hadn’t been wild children the summer before eighth grade, Mrs. Dawson wouldn’t have become such a pest.

That was the summer Krysta’s mom ran off with a bail bondsman. Krysta’s dad worked nights, leaving no adult supervision at her apartment. Krysta begged us not to tell anyone about her mom. We kept our promise and AJ spent almost every night at Krysta’s.

They ran around all night, hanging out with the wrong crowd. I didn’t want to be caught up in their trouble, so I stopped answering their calls. They figured it out.

At the end of the summer, they were busted by the cops when AJ asked a guy at the gas station to buy her beer. I thought it was pretty ironic AJ didn’t see that coming.

When my mom found out, she put me in private school for a year. I wasn’t too surprised by my mom’s reaction. She never had much faith in me, not when she could compare me to my two perfect sisters. I guess my mom was afraid I’d be influenced by my friends’ bad decisions. What she failed to notice was I had already made the choice not to be influenced by them.

After Krysta’s dad took up drinking, she found shelter at AJ’s house on the weekends. Mrs. Dawson let Krysta stay because she felt sorry for her but she still didn’t trust either one of them.

AJ put her head in her hands. “God, why can’t she leave me alone?”

Ignoring her question, a question we’d heard a thousand times, Krysta painted her toes and I reached for Krysta’s Cosmo.

“I wish my mom would buy me Cosmo.” I couldn’t believe I was reading a magazine with sex advice. Like girls did it all the time. I felt a twinge of jealousy that Krysta could read whatever she wanted, and then I remembered all the other crap she had to deal with at home.

“My dad’s new girlfriend is only 23. She bought it. Does this pink match my skin type?” Krysta pointed her skinny toes at us; a concerned expression crossed her brow, as if all hope for life’s happiness hinged on the color of her nails.

“Pink is everybody’s skin type.”

AJ didn’t bother to look at Krysta’s nails. She was too busy fuming over her mom’s latest interruption. Besides, AJ wasn’t the type to be interested in fashion. She’d worn her straight blonde hair in the same ponytail since I could remember. AJ was one of the few girls I knew who could still look good without makeup, which she only wore on special occasions. In fact, if she wasn’t such a jock, with her bright blue eyes, perfect little nose, and high cheekbones, she’d probably be the prettiest girl in school. As far as clothes, much to her mother’s disappointment, AJ picked comfort over style, preferring to wear old jeans and her softball jerseys.

AJ stretched out on her stomach and grabbed a rubber chicken off the floor. “Do you like his newest girlfriend?”

“I don’t know. I guess.” Krysta reached toward me and grabbed the magazine, flipping to the table of contents. “Does Cosmo say anything about nail color?”

Although her dad couldn’t afford many nice clothes, Krysta followed the latest fashion trends by wearing her hair and makeup like Miranda Kerr or Gisele. She even dyed and straightened her dark curly hair in an attempt to look like blonde Taylor Swift. Quite a contrast to her large dark eyes and olive complexion. AJ and I didn’t have the heart to tell her she looked stupid.

AJ flicked the chicken’s head with her forefinger. “I bet it’s cool not having your mother around bugging you all the time.”

That was a totally insensitive thing to say. I felt it in my bones. I felt it in Krysta’s bones, as I watched her hand clench the corner of the magazine, her face expressionless.

We both waited for Krysta’s outburst. She said nothing as she set down the magazine and quietly walked out of the room.

“That was a stupid thing to say, AJ.” I didn’t criticize my best friend often, but this time she needed it.

“Go talk to her.” AJ rolled her eyes and buried her face in her pillow.

“No, you go talk to her. You said it.”

Okay, one of AJ’s flaws—she didn’t handle feelings well. Raised under the shadow of her jock big brother, she wanted to be like him in every way and that meant having no ‘girl’ emotions whatsoever.

AJ lifted her head and looked directly at me with widened eyes. “I don’t know what to say. You’re good at this stuff.”

“Try saying ‘I’m sorry’. Try asking her if she wants to talk about it.”

“No!” AJ twisted her lips in that disgusted scowl, as if I’d just asked her to French kiss Cody Miller. Grody Cody Miller, the kid who was tricked into eating an Ex-Lax bar and crapped his pants on the bus.

Someone had to comfort Krysta. When I realized I had to be that person, anger fueled my movements as I stormed off. I hadn’t even taken one step before knocking Krysta’s shimmery pink nail polish all over AJ’s white carpet. “Crap! Krysta didn’t put the lid on this polish.”

AJ jumped off her bed and rushed to the spill. “We’ve got to clean this up before my mother finds out.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

Too late.

****

AJ’s mom was surprisingly understanding about the nail polish. She only made us promise that in the future, we’d paint our nails in the kitchen.

Krysta came back from the bathroom, looked around, and grabbed some nail polish remover. She cleaned the spill like nothing was wrong. I was a little stunned by her reaction, but relieved I wouldn’t have to prevent a confrontation.

The stain came up quickly, but the remover left a horrible smell. AJ and Krysta suggested we move to the living room, but I didn’t want to go in there. The Mikes could show up. AJ’s brother, Mike #1, and his best friend, Mike #2, were two grades ahead of us and very popular. I couldn’t risk telling AJ and Krysta my secret with them around. Even though they went to a different school, gossip knew no limits in my world. I would never be able to show my face again if my secret was revealed.

“Let’s just open the window and stay in your bedroom, AJ,” I suggested while I climbed onto the bed and slid open AJ’s window.

“Why? It smells in here.” Krysta fanned her nose, acting like she’d pass out.

“Come on, Krysta, you paint your nails all the time. You’re used to the smell. Besides,” I hesitated, looking out the window to see if anyone was in the front yard, behind the bushes, or within one hundred yards of hearing distance. “I think I like a guy at school.”

Smell forgotten, Krysta and AJ perked up like AJ’s Shitzu, Patches, whenever we fried bacon. I feared they’d make too much of a big deal about this. After all, what if they didn’t like him, or worse, what if they thought he was out of my league?

“Who’s the guy?” Krysta cooed and smiled, recognizing the significance of this momentous event.

Sophie had a crush.

Innocent, awkward Sophie who couldn’t even look a member of the opposite sex in the eyes. Crazed dreamer Sophie, who said she’d never ever consider a boyfriend, unless that boy was Taylor Lautner. Self-conscious, self-doubting Sophie, who’d just lost thirty pounds of baby fat last year and was still adjusting to new braces. That Sophie had a crush.

I read the looks in their faces—their widened, amused eyes.

Impossible.

I’d spoken the truth. I didn’t know when it began, or how I started liking him, but I was in love with the guy who sat in front of me in English class, Jacob Flushman.

“Jacob Flushman!” They screamed in unison. Oops. I said that last thought out loud. The cat was out of the bag now; there was no turning back. “Yeah, him.” I looked out of the window once more. One could never be too careful about these delicate secrets. If the Mikes found out, they’d tease me for sure. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Jake Toilet Flush?” AJ laughed and landed on a beanbag chair in the corner of her room.

“His name is Jacob. We’re freshmen now; AJ, it’s time to ditch little middle school names.” Actually, we were still in the middle school because the high school was overcrowded. So last year, they turned our middle school into a junior high, keeping us in that juvenile prison against our will.

“Jake has big thighs.”

Leave it to Krysta to point out any physical flaws. In her world, everyone should look like they just stepped out of Cosmo or YM.

I pulled back my shoulders, ready to defend him. “He plays football. Football players are supposed to have big thighs.”

“My brother plays football,” AJ jabbed, “Jake sits the bench.”

“Your brother also has a zit juice collection on his bathroom mirror. People still think he’s cool.” I thought in confessing my crush, my two best friends would have been a little more supportive, but all they did was make fun of him. Their rude remarks cut hard. I liked Jacob and slamming him was like slamming me, too. “I don’t see either of you with hot boyfriends, or any boyfriends.”

“Chill.” AJ glared. “You don’t have to get so sensitive. I get enough of that from my mother.”

“Let’s look at his yearbook picture.”

I feared Krysta would mention the yearbook. Although I couldn’t sense it at the moment, I knew what she was thinking. Let’s look at his huge thighs on the football page, so we can make fun of him.

Krysta grabbed a yearbook off AJ’s bookshelf.

Before she could turn the pages, I snatched it from her.

“Give it back!” She tried to grab it out of my hands.

At only five foot, two inches, she was no match for me. Last time I checked, I was five foot seven and still growing.

“Only if you promise not to make fun of him.” In truth, I hadn’t seen Jacob’s eighth grade yearbook picture and I was very curious. Jacob had a crew cut, big brown eyes and the cutest little ears. I wondered if he was just as cute last year.

“I promise.” She smiled wryly.

Knowing I couldn’t trust her, I grabbed her Cosmo off the floor.

“Swear on Gisele.” I handed her the magazine. Gisele seduced the camera lens with pursed lips.

Krysta placed her hand on the model’s face. “I swear.”

I handed Krysta the book. She could find his mug shot quickly. The way she liked to look at pictures, I knew she probably had the yearbook memorized.

Krysta could have done it in her sleep. She flipped open to page twenty-three and pointed directly at Jacob. He had a lopsided grin and the pudgiest cheeks ever.

“Oh-mi-god!” I screamed, setting off a chain reaction with Krysta and AJ, who’d joined me on the bed.

“Now I see why you like him.” AJ laughed and flipped her ponytail. “He lost a bunch of weight like you did.”

“He did?” Until now, I hadn’t known that. Jacob was new to Greenwood Junior High last year, when I was stuck in Covenant Christian Academy. Knowing this little fact made me like him even more. I was sure he knew what it was like to be teased about weight. He knew. Jake and I were made for each other. Now all I had to do was convince him.

But how? Although my friends insisted I wasn’t that chubby little dork anymore, I had trouble seeing myself as anything but Sophie “So Fat” Sinora. Although Jacob sat in front of me, he had never turned around to talk or even smile. I doubted he knew my name.

“Hey.” Krysta said. “Maybe you can go to Freshmen Formal together.”

The dance was only four weeks away. It was supposed to be some kind of a junior high homecoming. Sounded lame, but I still wanted to go. Some of the other girls in school were brave enough to find dates for the dance. I thought about asking Jacob, but I shook at the thought of rejection.

“Yeah, maybe.” My voice faltered.

I turned and stared at my reflection in the full length mirror hanging on AJ’s closet door. I had been exercising all summer, so any remnants of fat had been replaced by toned skin. My hair looked perfect today, but that’s because Krysta did it. Any other day, it just wouldn’t do what I wanted. I could never get the makeup thing down. My mom said my green eyes and thick lashes were my best asset, although Krysta had them drowning in so much eyeshadow, I could barely see them. This, she said, would make my eyes look like a model’s, but I didn’t think so.

I tried to smile at my reflection, and then quickly sealed my lips. I hated my braces. Food was always getting stuck in them and they made my lips look fat. Krysta said it was fashionable to have fat lips, but I didn’t see anything fashionable in looking like you were punched in the mouth.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping, when I realized I had a lot of work to do. Even though I had lost weight, I still felt awkward in my skin which didn’t help my self-esteem one bit.

I had to make Jacob notice me before I asked him to the dance. I knew he wouldn’t say ‘yes’ to a dork. I needed to prove to him and the rest of the school that I was cool. But kids were cruel, and they didn’t let old nicknames die easily. So how could a girl get a new reputation?

Chapter Two

Why did the day have to begin with pre-algebra? I should have been in Algebra One, but the counselors didn’t have faith in my education at the Christian Academy, so they made me repeat my math class with the bonehead freshmen.

And her. The meanest girl in school—Lady Gaga wannabe, Summer Powers.

I hated the clink and clank of her stiletto heels as she sauntered to her seat behind mine. I hated the tons of mascara she wore and the bright red lipstick she also used as rouge for her cheeks. I watched her rub it into her face once while I waited or her to finish admiring herself in her locker mirror. I was waiting because Summer insisted on keeping her locker door wide open, so I couldn’t get nto my locker, which unfortunately, just like my desk, was right near hers.

She gave her heels one last click for good measure and plopped her butt in the seat behind mine. I waited for it. I knew it was coming. Summer had this annoying habit of resting her feet on the book basket underneath my desk.

No big deal. Most kids liked to be comfortable. I would have done it, too, if Mr. Steinberg hadn’t placed me in the front row. That wasn’t the problem. Her habit of shaking her feet throughout the entire 48-minute class period was the problem.

I had just completed two weeks of my freshman year, only forty more weeks to go. Forty weeks of this! I’d go insane. On the first day of school, it was just a light jitter, like an annoying little fly buzz. I turned around and asked her nicely to stop. She smiled and stopped.

The next day, she started the shaking again. I turned around and reminded her about her annoying habit, but in a nice way, or so I’d thought. She scowled at me and shook my desk harder.

When I was six years old, my biker uncle took me for a ride on his Harley Davidson. My brain jiggled for a week afterwards. This is how sitting in front of Summer Powers felt every morning in pre-algebra. I felt powerless to stop her.

Krysta told me Summer had been in five fights last year; she won every one. I was only in one fight in my life. In sixth grade, Patty Ledbetter called me a brat, so I fought her and I got my butt kicked. If any kid could have been dorkier than me, it was Patty. Her parents worked at K-Mart so getting beat by her was really hard to take. I was the laughing stock of the school.

Trying to concentrate on Mr. Steinberg while my head rattled was difficult, but I didn’t need to pay attention. I knew this stuff. I was wasting my time in pre-algebra. Fractions. Duh. He had to keep stopping the class because Summer was confused, along with the ten other special eds who kept raising their hands. “What’s a denominator again?” Were people really this stupid?

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to see my counselor. Without wasting another aggravating minute, I raised my hand.

“What is it, Sophie? I thought you understood fractions.” Mr. Steinberg pointed his giant arrow at me. What kind of a weirdo taught class with an enormous foam arrow on his hand? It was like a big yellow, pointy hand puppet. Sometimes, he even pretended the arrow would speak by answering questions for the class when they were too stupid to figure out the answers.

“May I go see my counselor?” I tried to keep my voice as low as possible. I didn’t need the entire class knowing my business.

“Why? Is there a problem?” Great! The stupid arrow was talking.

For a second, I almost answered his arrow back, and then I realized I would look even more idiotic than Mr. Steinberg.

“I just really need to see her, Mr. Steinberg.” “Do you have an appointment?” The arrow pointed directly between my eyes, as if it had the power to see into my mind.

“Yes.” One little white lie. I had been raised to be honest, and so far, my parents had been pretty good at ingraining that principle into my mind. But they never said I couldn’t lie to a puppet. “Okay.”

Okay? It was that easy? If it wasn’t for the psycho hall monitors on our campus, a kid could have easily gotten away with skipping class.

I reached under my desk for my binder. Summer’s heels were resting on it, and I could tell by the way she held them firmly in place, she had no intention of helping me out. I yanked on my binder until I heard the banging of her heels against the metal bars. She didn’t say anything, but she did give my desk one last shove before I departed.

****

Mrs. Ramirez greeted me with her pasted on smile. It wasn’t like her smile was fake; she just always smiled. In my short time at Greenwood Junior High, I didn’t remember Mrs. Ramirez ever having a bad day.

“How may I help you, Sophie?”

That was another incredible talent of hers; she knew every kid’s name in the school. How did she do it? I couldn’t even keep the names of my seven teachers straight.

“Pre-algebra is a waste of my time. I’m learning nothing.” I tried to keep the whine out of my voice as I fidgeted with the creases on my binder.

“But we’ve just started our third week of school. If I move you to algebra, you’ll be lost.” Mrs. Ramirez offered a sympathetic smile.

“I can handle it. If I need to, I’ll stay after school for tutoring. Please, Mrs. Ramirez, I can’t suffer like this for a whole year.” Somehow, despite my efforts, that high-pitched little whine slipped into my voice. I just couldn’t help it. If I was going to change my reputation, I had to get out of bonehead math and far away from Summer Powers.

“Well, let me look at your classes.” She pulled up a screen on her computer. “We might need to change your schedule.”

What? Change my schedule! No, no, she couldn’t take away English. It was the only class I had with Jacob. Mrs. Ramirez was one of the few reasonable adults at this school. Surely, she wouldn’t do that to me.

I tried to keep my voice calm, but I felt the shakiness in my throat. “Why? Can’t I just switch first periods?”

“No.” She answered quickly, without even looking from her computer. “All of the first period algebra classes are full. Let’s see. Fifth period looks like the best bet.”

“Fifth period?” How did I know she was going to say that? “Fifth period won’t work.”

Mrs. Ramirez looked up from her computer and studied me. “Why not?”

I tried not to let her see the panic in my eyes. Whatever happened, I have to keep my class with Jacob. “Because we are in the middle of a novel unit. I know the other English classes aren’t reading Huck Finn and I’ll have to catch up in English and in math.”

“Well, I could put you in algebra if you are willing to drop your third period elective.”

Third period was band, my second least favorite class. Mr. Martinelli was the kind of teacher who took pleasure in his students’ misery.

Whenever he smugly smiled, folded his arms across his chest, and asked me to play, I couldn’t even hold my flute steady. As I tried to control my nervousness, I inhaled sporadic puffs of air that sounded more like a dog panting than music. Mr. Martinelli told me he could lock a cat in a trash can, throw it down a flight of stairs and make better music.

“Ok. I’ll drop band.” I was ready to jump out of my seat. No more Summer, no more yellow arrow, and no more musical melodrama.

“So I’ll have to give you a new elective first period.” Mrs. Ramirez turned back to her computer and made several clicks with her mouse. “How about yearbook?”

“Yearbook?” This summer, when I reviewed my choice of electives, I hadn’t even given that class a second glance. Ever since I erased that fat, ugly picture of me in my sixth grade book and replaced it with a Sponge Bob sticker, my mom told me she would never buy me a yearbook.

“I hear if you join the staff you get a free book.”

“Really?” Wow! My day couldn’t get much better. I’d get my own yearbook with Jacob’s picture.

“Here.” Mrs. Ramirez printed out a new schedule and handed it to me. “Go see Mrs. Carr. She’s in room 200. She is short staffed this year. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had you taking football pictures this weekend.”

I had to be dreaming. Standing on the sidelines, watching Jacob Flushman and his masculine thighs as he raced toward me with the pigskin tucked under his arm. He scored a touchdown and I caught the moment with my lens. He grabbed me in excitement and planted a big kiss on my cheek. No. This was my dream. He planted a big kiss on my lips.

This schedule change was just the boost I needed. I was on my way to a fun freshman year. My confidence would grow. My life would change. So long to “So Fat” Sinora.

****

“Just what I need. Another new kid I have to train.” Mrs. Carr looked down at me through thick glasses. “Do you have any photography experience?”

“No.” I had wondered why this class was short staffed when students could get free yearbooks. Now I knew.

“Great.” Mrs. Carr threw her hands in the air. “Do you know anything about PhotoShop?”

“No.” I suddenly felt much smaller, much less significant than I had before walking through the yearbook room door.

“Terrific. There goes my first deadline.” Mrs. Carr stormed off and threw herself behind her desk that was positioned in the center of the classroom. She was instantly engulfed by a huge flat-screen computer monitor on the desktop. Surrounding her desk were other computer stations, facing inward like a fortress, as if whatever was on them was top secret information.

“I can train her, Mrs. Carr.” Lara “Spread ‘em” Sketchum popped her head from behind one of the dozen large computer monitors.

“You’re going to have to,” Mrs. Carr groaned.

“I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork. This administration doesn’t think I have enough on my hands.”

Lara smiled and I hesitantly smiled back. Although I’d never had Lara in a class and we hung out in entirely different circles, I knew all about her. She was the school slut. If I became friends with her, I could be labeled a slut, too. This year was my chance to prove Sophie “So Fat” was cool and making friends with Lara didn’t fit in with my plan. What would Jacob think of me?

“Come sit over here, Sophie.” Lara waved toward an empty seat next to hers. “I was just uploading freshmen mugshot pictures. I’ll teach you how to do it, along with some of the basics of PhotoShop.”

“How did you know my name?” I slipped in between a crack in the computer fortress and sat beside her.

“This is my third year on staff. I know everybody’s face. Your picture has changed since seventh grade.” Lara hesitantly smiled, then lowered her lashes and bit her bottom lip. I’m not a slut. I hope you don’t believe the rumors.

Wow. I hadn’t heard someone else’s thoughts since before school started. Hearing her voice echo in my skull was suddenly shocking, and humbling. Lara wasn’t the only student at this school who’d been branded by a label.

I almost goofed and answered her thoughts. That would have been a bad thing. People would’ve been afraid to come near me if they knew about my gift. “Thanks, I hope my picture looks better now.”

“Yeah. You lost weight; you’re actually pretty.” “Thanks.” Coming from Lara, that was a huge compliment. I guess whoever labeled her the school slut was jealous. With her long black hair, big blue eyes and perfect body, Lara got lots of attention from the guys.

“I’m just placing pictures of the freshmen on their pages. I’m already on the Fs.” Lara must have seen my eyes widen, because she grinned after she spoke. “Do you like Jacob Flushman?”

Those traitors. Krysta and AJ blabbed their big mouths. But wait…they didn’t talk to Lara, which meant it must have gotten around the whole school. I wanted to die. “How did you know?”

“My lens catches everything.” Lara clicked her mouse and pulled up a picture of students eating lunch.

I instantly recognized Jacob with his football buddies. They were laughing and throwing fries at each other. Then my eyes did a double take; I was sitting at the table behind Jacob and I was staring…no…drooling in his direction. Oh, how embarrassing. My mom had always told me I had an expressive face but did I have to make my crush so obvious? I felt a tinge of guilt for accusing my best friends of betraying me when my own stupid face was the culprit.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” Lara gave me a reassuring smile and closed the picture.

Still stunned, I had trouble finding my voice. “Is…is that picture going in the yearbook?”

“Not if you don’t want it to.”

“God, no!” I accidentally screamed my answer. Mrs. Carr looked up from her computer long enough to scowl.

Lara nudged my shoulder. “Consider it deleted.”

“No, wait.” No matter how embarrassing I looked, I just couldn’t stand the thought of deleting Jacob.

“I’ll save you a copy first,” Lara teased. “Jake does look cute in that picture.”

Bad reputation or not, I knew Lara and I would become buds. A minor setback in my plan to prove to Greenwood I was cool. If Lara helped me in yearbook, the least I could do was help her uncover the myth behind the rumors. After all, if she wasn’t a slut, someone was lying.

Chapter Three

Summer had to check her text messages and then put on her makeup while I waited to get my flute out of my locker. My annoyance was overshadowed by relief; I’d never need to carry around that rusted out hunk of metal again. I was so relieved after I turned it in to Mr. Martinelli, leaving his classroom for the last time.

Between waiting for Summer and turning in my flute, I was now late to my new class. Why was I so directionally challenged? Mrs. Stein’s room should have been easy to find. Two hundred. Even number. Simple. Not hardly. I was going in circles. I knew I’d seen that ‘Don’t be a dope’ sign by the bathroom entrance at least ten times. Some idiot was smoking pot and driving into oncoming traffic. The first time, the sign made me laugh. Now I wanted to tear it down and rip it to shreds, except that wouldn’t look good on my school records. They’d probably think I was on drugs.

“Where’s your pass?” Busted. The burly voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

I turned to face my captor, a school rent-a-cop. Man—maybe. Woman—I didn’t know. Big, scary mammoth beast with spiked hair—definitely.

“I…I don’t have one.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t catch you? The bell rang five minutes ago.”

How could I answer without sounding like a complete idiot? “I’m lost.”

“Lost? Are you one of Mrs. Frances’ kids?” The beast smiled smugly and folded its arms across its chest, obviously waiting for me to challenge the insult. Mrs. Frances’ kids rode the little bus.

The list of people who liked to put me down was growing larger. I needed to stand up for myself, starting with the beast. “Mrs. Ramirez changed my schedule this morning so I am still learning my new classes. I don’t know where Mrs. Stein’s room is.”

“Let me see your schedule.” The cop grabbed the twisted paper from my hands and carefully eyed the document, as if looking for a watermark or something to prove the schedule’s authenticity.

Because evil teenagers forge school schedules all the time. “I’m going that way now. Follow me.”

I walked behind the beast, trying hard to decipher its gender. Dark roots, dyed frosted blonde at the tips, spiked with something, probably gel. Would a guy go through that much trouble to make each follicle stand up in a straight line?

Yes.

Jacob’s best friend, Frankie Salas, would, but then again Frankie was perfect. From his angular jaw to flawless, tanned skin and large, dark eyes, Frankie could have been ripped from the pages of GQ, at least that’s what Krysta always said.

The beast in front of me had no butt, a large stomach, and breasts that were either big man- boobs or small girl-boobs. By the time we arrived at room two hundred, which was located in hallway three hundred—go figure—I still hadn’t figured out the cop’s gender. When the beast turned around, I had the chance to check the name on its badge. Tyler. No help there.

The door to Mrs. Stein’s room had one window, which was covered up with butcher paper. Tyler opened the door without knocking and I noticed a teacher was writing equations on her dry-erase board.

“You have a new student.”

Her arm jerked. She dropped her algebra book and her dry-erase marker at the sound of Tyler’s booming voice. She turned, hand on chest and momentarily glared at Tyler before focusing her gaze on me. Her entire face softened as she beckoned me toward the front of the room. “Welcome to Algebra, dear. I’m Mrs. Stein. What’s your name?”

“Sophie.” I handed her my crumpled schedule.

“Sophie, how lovely.” She looked at the paper before giving me a warm smile that reached her eyes. Caryn’s hair. Dark and smooth.

How did I have two telepathic experiences in one day? And who was Caryn? I must have reminded Mrs. Stein of this person by the way she smiled.

Mrs. Stein retrieved her algebra book and clutched it to her chest. “Have a seat wherever you want. There are no assigned seats here.”

I scanned the room for an empty seat. That’s when I noticed the waving hand. I instantly recognized AJ, with her sporty blonde ponytail and the beat-up binder plastered with Clay Matthews pictures. I remembered her mentioning she had Mrs. Stein for algebra. “The nicest teacher in the school.” Those were her exact words.

AJ had been real excited when she called me after registration this summer. Although her mom wanted her to take all honors classes, she allowed AJ the one exception with Mrs. Stein. The Mikes had Mrs. Stein. All the kids loved her.

“Hey.” I sat down in an empty desk next to AJ, relieved to have a friend in class. I normally only saw her and Krysta during lunch.

“So, you finally ditched those losers in pre-algebra?” AJ smiled before we turned to the commotion at the back of the room. Tyler was trying to get to Grody Cody Miller.

Mrs. Stein was standing in front of Cody’s desk, hands on hips, blocking the cop’s path. “You’re not taking him out of my class. If he misses one lesson, he’ll be behind.”

“Mr. Sparks’ orders.”

“I don’t give a damn what Mr. Sparks said, Cody’s not leaving!”

Usually students oohed and aahed when teachers swore, but not this time. They stared at her, eyes wide with something like awe. Some kids smiled. I could hear them whispering, “Go, Mrs. Stein.”

I didn’t get it. Grody Cody Miller was every teacher’s worst nightmare. Cody had a bad attitude. He was always telling teachers off and disrupting class. Why wouldn’t she have wanted him to leave?

“He left Mr. Benson’s class without permission Friday. The principal wants to see him…now.”

Tyler peered around Mrs. Stein’s shoulder and narrowed its eyes at Cody.

“So that makes a whole lot of sense. Take him out of one class for leaving another. He’s not going. If Sparks has a problem with it, tell him to come see me during my planning period.”

“But…”

“But nothing, Tyler. I’ve got to teach my kids. Please leave my classroom…now.” You’re not laying a finger on any of my babies.

Mrs. Stein was passionate about her kids. She made that perfectly clear with her internal thoughts. When a person was extremely upset or angry, their thoughts were more likely to jump into my head. So, she thought of us as her babies? That was kind of cool, especially after coming from Mrs. Carr’s class.

Tyler finally left the room, slamming the door. Mrs. Stein faced the door, back and shoulders rigidly frozen for what seemed an eternity. She inhaled a large breath and let it out before turning to the class.

AJ started the first clap and we all followed by rising to give Mrs. Stein a standing ovation. She deserved it for the way she stood up to that scary beast. That’s when I decided when I grow up, I want to be just like Mrs. Stein.

****

Fourth period was a blur. I didn’t focus on science Nazi because I was too busy thinking about Jacob and his masculine thighs. Besides, I was better off ignoring a teacher like Mr. Benson. If students asked too many questions, he had panic attacks and made us stand outside the classroom, as if we were deliberately slowing down his perfectly laid out lesson plans.

I remembered the incident Friday when Grody Cody raised his hand in the middle of a lesson and asked Mr. Benson to explain how a cell divided. “Does it have a brain? How does it divide if no one tells it to? If I was a cell, I’d just sit there.”

I could see the veins popping out of Mr. Benson’s neck. His response—he made Cody wait outside the door. I guess Cody was tired of waiting to be invited back in, so he left.

After the bell rang to release us from our torture, I couldn’t get to my fifth period class fast enough.

Crap. I left Huck Finn in my locker.

Not Huck the boy, Huck the book. We were assigned fifty pages to read over the weekend. Normally, Mrs. Warren didn’t assign weekend homework, but Frankie Salas was late to class, resulting in a homework assignment for all of us. That was her policy. If one kid screwed up, we all suffered. It was usually a pretty good deterrent for tardies.

Not this time.

Although everybody was mad at Frankie for flirting too long in the hallway, we mostly kept our opinions to ourselves. As the most popular boy in school, Frankie could get away with ruining our weekend.

Passing time was only six minutes long. I rushed to my locker on the other end of the world, intending to grab the book and make the trek back to English on the other side of campus.

Not happening. Summer was at her locker, admiring her cheap Lady Gaga imitation Hairdo and texting at the same time. As usual, her locker door was open flat against mine, so she could get the best view of her face in the locker mirror.

Step one to a new image. Learn to speak up for yourself.

“Excuse me.”

Summer didn’t pause in her makeup ritual to look in my direction. Apparently, I wasn’t even as worthy as a Maybelline smudge stick.

Maybe I wasn’t loud enough. “Excuse me!” Summer closed her flip phone and stared thoughtfully into her lipliner, as if she and the cosmetic were the only two things on Earth. “Hmmm. Too pink for fall. I need something darker.”

“I need to get into my locker.” I tapped my foot to make her aware of my impatience. Although, I knew she really didn’t care.

“Did you hear something, Lady?” Summer spoke to her Lady Gaga poster, which was taped just below her mirror. “I didn’t think so.”

“Hey, what are you doing on this side of the world? Isn’t your next class in the one hundred hall?”

I turned to see AJ. “I’m waiting to get into my locker.” I pointed at Summer, who was still consumed with wasting my time.

“That’s easy to fix.” AJ moved me aside and yanked Summer’s lipliner out of her hands. She threw it in her locker and slammed it shut. “All clear.” AJ faced Summer, narrowing her eyes in a challenging gesture.

Summer moaned, rolled her eyes and walked away.

AJ had the courage to stand up to anybody. How did she do it? Wasn’t she afraid of getting her butt kicked? Sure, AJ was tough—a lot tougher than me. All her life, AJ had dealt with bullying from the Mikes, so she was used to fending for herself.

But AJ had a secret, other than her visions, that could be devastating if the wrong kids found out. After a horse riding accident, AJ tore the retina in her left eye. AJ’s doctor said, one wrong punch, and she would lose sight in that eye forever. Even so, AJ wasn’t afraid of a confrontation.

I couldn’t risk my best friend’s eyesight because I was too chicken to handle a bullying brat. “Hey, this is my problem, not yours.”

“You’re welcome.” AJ looked at me with a smirk.

“I don’t want you getting hurt over me.”

AJ shook her head and snickered. “When are you going to learn to stand up for yourself? Summer wouldn’t do anything to risk smudging her lipstick. For someone who can read people, you really can’t read people.”

“I mean it, AJ.” Before I could finish my lame argument, I was interrupted by the sound of the tardy bell. “Oh, God!”

I ran to my fifth period class. Although, what was the use? I was tardy now. What kind of punishment had I brought down on my English class? Pop quiz? Essay?

Jacob was going to hate me.

****

Opening the door to room five-o-five, Freshman English, I slid in quietly and scurried to my seat at the far side of the room. Although I didn’t see Mrs. Warren, I could hear her movement from behind a big pile of books that sat atop her desk. Maybe she hadn’t taken roll yet. I received only a few evil glares as my fellow classmates caught me sneaking in late, but they didn’t tell on me. They didn’t want extra homework, either.

“You’re late, Sophie!” Frankie Salas, who sat directly across from me, announced this to the entire class.

I felt every muscle in my body tense. Frankie turned to me with a grin.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t unstiffen my frozen face if I tried. All I could do was stare at my tormentor and think, “Why?”

“Wh…what was that? Someone came in late?” The teacher’s balding head popped up from behind a pile of books in the corner of the room. It took a moment to register it wasn’t Mrs. Warren talking.

Substitute teacher, Mr. Dallin, or as we so fondly called him, Mr. Pick-N-Flick, had been teaching since the beginning of time and he hadn’t earned his booger picking reputation for no reason. He was my oldest sister’s math teacher. She told me he left crusties on her papers at least once a week. He was our sub for three weeks in my seventh grade geography class. On two occasions, I’d caught him digging for buried treasure. He was one reason I carried antibacterial hand lotion in my backpack.

Another one of Dallin’s shortcomings, he had blessedly horrible hearing and eyesight.

My lucky day.

“No, no, Mr. Dallin. I said you look great, Sophie.” Frankie winked. “Doesn’t she look great, Mr. Dallin?”

I felt the heat rise from my chest into my cheeks.

“I can’t tell. Let me get a closer look.” Mr. Dallin heaved his huge frame upward, knocking over several books in the process. He waddled his way toward me. “Sophie? Sophie Sinora, is that you?”

“Yes, Mr. Dallin.”

Mr. Dallin pushed the rim of his glasses higher on his rounded nose. “You’ve lost some weight.”

“Yes, sir.” I sank lower into my seat. Every eye in the classroom was on me. I didn’t need them staring at my big lips or my messed up hair. I just wanted to disappear.

“You know.” He folded his arms across his chest and dazed into space. Not uncommon for Mr. Dallin. “I taught your sisters in high school.”

“They told me.” Great. Please go back to your books, Mr. Dallin.

“Very popular and pretty. Wasn’t your oldest sister Homecoming Queen?”

“Yes.” Actually, they both were but I wasn’t about to remind him. I had hoped that after a year’s absence, my family legacy would be forgotten. Being the only fat dork in a line of beauty queens wasn’t easy.

“That’s right. Very popular and pretty.”

“You just said that, sir.” He was probably wondering if I was the mailman’s daughter. I couldn’t sink any lower, otherwise, I’d have been under the desk, so I tried to imagine I was invisible. I wasn’t used to being the center of attention and having this drooling walrus hovering over me made me sick to my stomach.

“Well, Frankie, Sophie is turning into quite a beauty herself. In a couple years time, she could be the next Homecoming queen. I’d keep my eyes on this girl if I were you.”

“Maybe I will,” Frankie said evenly.

As expected, students snickered at this last comment while Frankie had the nerve to smile.

What a jerk. Pretending to like me. I glared at him out of the corners of my eyes.

Why would the most gorgeous guy in school play these games? What was in it for him? Did he want me to do his homework or was he just trying to add me to his long list of pathetic groupies?

Not wanting to know the answer, I fought not letting a sigh escape and faced forward, pretending to ignore Frankie. Besides, Frankie was way out of my league. I’d never expect to go out with someone as gorgeous as him, so why dream about it? Jacob was in my league, but he was the only one who didn’t turn around when Mr. Dallin had the rest of the class staring at me. He didn’t even laugh when Frankie was flirting.

I wondered why.

This could have been a good sign, but it could also have been very bad. I wished I could have popped into his head. All my intuition failed me, and, as usual, my gift was stubborn. I had to satisfy my curiosity by simply staring at his perfectly small ears, buzz cut dark hair and thick neck.

Suddenly, Jacob jerked hard in his seat. “Come on. Come on. Yes!” The excitement in his voice held back in a whisper.

I peered over his shoulder and saw the screen he held in his hand as he cut down demons with his sword. I couldn’t believe it. Jacob could have cared less about me. He was too busy playing with his little video game. Frankie and I could have made out on top of his desk and I don’t think he would have noticed.

Mr. Dallin began speaking above the din of the noisy classroom. “Ok, everyone, your teacher will be out for the next six weeks.”

As was always the case when we had a substitute teacher, there were no rules for classroom behavior. The class stopped talking long enough to exchange high fives and cheers. Nobody asked what happened to Mrs. Warren. Nobody cared.

“Her daughter is having a baby.”

Mr. Dallin could have been speaking to empty desks. After the gone-for-six-weeks part, the students didn’t want to listen to anything else he had to say.

And neither did I. I had more important things to worry about. Why didn’t Jacob notice me? Even blind Mr. Dallin thought I was getting pretty.

Wham!

The classroom stilled as our attention was riveted on Mr. Dallin at the front of the room. He held the yardstick he’d just slammed across Grody Cody’s desk. Cody looked ready to piss his pants. “Now, do I have your attention?”

Some of us silently nodded, but mostly we just stared.

“Have I finished collecting all copies of Huck Finn or are there any still missing?” He scanned the room.

I swallowed hard. Huck was still in my backpack. I tentatively raised my hand.

“Pass it up, Sophie.”

I unzipped my bag with shaky fingers, accidentally dumping the contents on the floor. Why was I so nervous? This was Pick-N-Flick. He’d never beat his students before, at least not that I’d heard.

I tried to hand my book to Jacob, but he didn’t turn around. He was so busy getting his butt kicked by a video game, he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in the real world.

“Jacob.” I leaned forwarded and whispered, inhaling a mixed scent of hair gel and a strong, rich musk. But there was something else. Could it have been ketchup? I decided hair gel, musk and ketchup were the perfect odors for a guy.

“Jacob.” I whispered louder. For days I’d been dreaming of the moment I’d get so close to Jacob I could almost kiss him. Here I was, asking him to take my book, and the moron wasn’t even listening. “Jacob, Mr. Dallin is watching us. Take the book.”

Nothing.

“Jacob!” Mr. Dallin’s yardstick slammed down across Jacob’s desk, causing him to drop his game.

“What the hell!” Jacob puffed up his chest and looked ready to jump out of his desk and punch Dallin.

Jacob was going to get himself in trouble and my Huck Finn was the cause of it.

“Jake, chill.” Frankie leaned out of his desk and picked up Jacob’s game. He placed it in Dallin’s outstretched hand.

“That’s mine.” Jacob shot an angry glance at Frankie and then at Dallin.

“Not anymore.” Dallin took both the video game and my Huck Finn and walked to the front of the room. He slid the little console in a drawer of Mrs. Warren’s desk and put my book on top of the already large stack of books on the desktop. “Now that I have all the books collected, get out a pencil for a pop quiz on chapter six.”

“This sucks!”

Jacob really needed to shut up. It was just a toy. If he kept it up, he could get suspended and miss a real game, his football game on Friday.

Jacob slammed his fists on his desk. “I don’t want Pick-N-Flick getting crusties on my Nintendo.”

Mr. Dallin narrowed his eyes at Jacob, his fat cheeks swelled, looking like balloons ready to burst. He pointed toward the door and screamed at Jacob. “Get out!”

Jacob stormed out and slammed the door.

Mr. Dallin would probably send a referral to the office. Jacob would miss his next football game, maybe even be suspended from the team. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t forgotten Huck. If I had stood up to Summer. If I hadn’t been late.

“Sophie, can you take this to the office for me?” Dallin handed me a large, brown office envelope and an orange hall pass.

Why me?

I knew what was in the envelope—Jacob’s referral. I felt as if all eyes in the class were upon me. I had two choices—throw it away and pray Dallin’s ancient memory would forget the incident or seal Jacob’s doom by delivering the referral. Either way I was screwed. Could my life get any worse?

****

Five minutes. That’s all I needed to drop off a referral at the office and return to class. Ten minutes if I stretched it out some, walked slowly, took a potty break. Dallin wouldn’t have missed me. He’d forgotten to write a time on my hall pass. This gave me some time to decide what to do.

I had always considered myself a good kid. Besides, I valued my weekends too much to get in trouble. I was thinking how easy it would have been to find the nearest bathroom and stuff the referral in the garbage. I had to wonder, though, was Jacob worth the risk? Would Jacob do something like this for me? Jacob didn’t even know I existed. He proved that when he ignored me over his game.

“Sophie!” Caught up in my worries, I didn’t even notice Jacob standing by the boys’ bathroom.

“Hey.” I was such an idiot. The boy of my dreams finally acknowledged my existence, he even knew my name, and all I could manage was ‘hey’. I put my right hand behind my back, hiding Jacob’s referral.

“Did you get kicked out, too?” His dark grey eyes simmered with anger, his lips drawn in a tight line. Suddenly, I realized his pissed off expression was kind of hot.

Stay focused.

“No.” How did I tell him I was about to make his day worse?

His eyes narrowed. “Where are you going?”

I tried to recall one of the many pieces of wisdom my parents crammed down my throat. Honesty is always best. “To the office.”

Jacob closed the distance until we were frightfully only a few feet apart. His nearness set off unfamiliar sparks of energy. My stomach began to twist in knots and I felt my entire body quaking inside.

He peered around my shoulder. “What’s in the envelope?”

“I…I don’t know.” And honestly I didn’t; although I suspected, as Jake probably did, that it was his referral.

Jacob moved closer. “You don’t know?” His eyebrows rose.

His question felt more like an accusation. I was sure Jacob could hear my heart pounding. His nearness was about to shatter my nerves into a million pieces. I tried my best to regain composure. “Probably your referral.”

“Yeah. I guess I lost my cool.” He cast his eyes downward, his long, black lashes fluttered across his squeezable cheeks. “My dad’s going to kick my ass when he finds out.”

“Maybe he won’t find out.” I should have kept my mouth shut. That sounded like a promise and I was still unsure of what to do.

“He’s friends with Sparks. He’ll find out and I’ll be grounded for a month.” Jacob put his hands in his pockets and kept his gaze down before turning his large puppy dog eyes back to me.

How could I resist Jacob? He was so cute and sweet. “Well, what do you want me to do?” The pounding in my chest rose to my throat.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Maybe you could give that referral to me.”

I couldn’t still my shaking limbs. “And then what?”

“Dallin probably forgot about it already.” Jacob reached around my back and grabbed my hand. I jerked, surprised by the tingling sensation of his skin touching my overly sensitive fingers. His nearness and the scent of musky ketchup was almost my undoing.

Oh, God, I could have died happy.

“Yeah. You’re right.” I gulped as I felt him gently pry the envelope from my hand. “But what if he doesn’t?”

Jacob raised one edge of his mouth and flashed a lopsided grin. “Come on?” He already had the envelope opened and was scanning the document.

He fisted the paper into a ball and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. “Thanks. You know, Dallin is right. You have changed.”

I jerked my head, trying to digest what he’d just said. He was paying attention when Dallin and Frankie were talking about me. Could this mean he was interested in me?

Before I could stop him, as if I would want to stop him, Jacob planted a kiss on my cheek. Although it was just a quick peck, that kiss lingered on my skin for an eternity. If it wasn’t for personal hygiene, I would have never washed my face.

“See you later, Sophie.”

I loved the way Jacob said my name, like chocolate pudding rolling off his tongue.

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Table of Contents

Sophie’s Secret

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three