Old friends from cross-country start talking about me when I pass by. But they get quiet when I look at them. In English we work in groups. Today Meredith and Carolina are working with Jonathan and me. We’re supposed to be writing a Halloween story together. But I don’t think Meredith and Carolina came over to our group because they are interested in our writing skills. They want to find out what happened to Gary. Meredith is tall; her hair is long and straight and black, pulled back into a pony tail. Her eyes are huge and brown, her lips are red and full, and I think I’m staring at them just as she nudges me under the table. I’ve known Meredith since elementary school. I think she even came to my birthday party in fifth grade. I’ve had a crush on her for years, since we were little. But she hasn’t talked to me for just as long, as I became weirder and she became more popular. Carolina though just moved from Salem with her parents. It’s just like an hour and a half from Lansfeld, but I’ve never been there.
