My. Gods. @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } Chapter 8“PLEASE PUT AWAY YOUR BOOKS and take out several sheets of blank paper.” Mr. Dorcas’s voice is monotone. “We are having a pop quiz on The Republic.” The whole class groans. Me? I just carry out his instructions with the resignation of a beaten dog. Since the moment I thought my life couldn’t get worse, the world, this school, and everyone on this island have conspired to prove me monumentally wrong. No one but Nicole and Troy are talking to me, though Troy hasn’t even been at lunch because he’s getting extra tutoring in Chemistry. I keep e-mailing and IMing Cesca and Nola every night in the hope that I’ll eventually wear them down. Mom is giving me my distance, not that I mind, and Damian has been so busy with school business that I haven’t even seen him in days. And, though I’m not mourning the fact that Stella’s stopped speaking to me, I’m starting to miss our sparring sessions.
