Mom called Coach Chris and told him that I needed to skip my morning workout, but not why. She’s going to tell him this afternoon. I’m dreading it. After third period, as I’m heading to my locker before lunch, I notice the whispering and the odd looks that people are giving me, but I shrug them off, figuring there’s gossip about the Rollerblading incident at prom. People must be looking and pointing because I’m the girl who got knocked off her feet. It doesn’t occur to me to think it’s anything else, until Kristine stops in front of me in the hallway, plants her hands on her hips, and gives me a steely once-over. “Is it true?” She slides her tongue into her cheek, like she’s trying not to laugh. “What? That your date knocked me over at prom?” “If what they’re saying is true, you should have been able to leap out of his way.” “What are you talking about?” “Gymnastics! Woo-woo!” Kristine flaps her arms around. “It’s not true, right? It’s just coincidence that you have similar names.”
