I finally shout, “Nothing’s wrong, all right? Just stop asking!” I pull a book from my backpack and pretend to read. I don’t even have to glance their way to know the two girls sitting across the aisle are looking at me. Ginny doesn’t say anything. I feel terrible about shouting at her. I want to apologize, but I can’t. If I do, that’ll just get her talking again. I don’t want to have to say anything. I just want the bus to get to school. Maybe once it’s there I can lose myself in whatever Mr. Gallagher has us do and block out yesterday from my mind. I know I’ll have to tell Ginny about Mama sometime, but I’m not ready to talk about it. I wouldn’t know what to say. I didn’t even want to come to school today, but that would have taken even more explaining. Besides, I know it would have upset Mama if I’d quit my creative writing class in the first week. Mr. Gallagher starts class the same way he does every day, by giving us what he calls a “starter activity.”
