“Ow.” I let out a cry.
“Julie? What’s wrong?” Mom called from the inner office.
“Nothing. Just a paper cut,” I said. I sucked on the finger. It wasn’t going to bleed much.
Emily Hanes, the office secretary, looked up from her computer monitor. “Do you need a Band-Aid?” Emily has anything anyone would ever need in her desk drawer.
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
“You’re going to be late for homeroom,” Mom called. She laughed. “And I won’t write you an excuse.”
“Thanks a bunch.” She thinks she’s funny, and I guess she is. And it’s hard to keep a sense of humor when you’re principal of a high school, especially one as big as Linden North.
I started to close the file I was looking at, but Amber appeared, looking tense, her hair in disarray, as usual. “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
“My blood pressure.” One of her jokes.
“Seventeen-year-olds don’t have blood pressures,” I said.
“Thank you, Nurse Julie.” She banged her backpack on top of the front counter.
“I haven’t seen you,” I said. “Want to hang after school?”
She raked a hand through her hair. “Can’t. I have a piano recital. I mean, a rehearsal for a recital.”
“Cool,” I said. “What are you playing?”
“Just some Chopin stuff.”
I had to laugh. Amber is a brilliant pianist. Her teacher thinks she’s a cinch to get into Juilliard, the famous music college in New York City. But Amber never wants to make a fuss about it and always plays it down like it’s no big deal.
“You’re going to be late, too,” I said, glancing up at the big wall clock. “Why’d you come in here?”
“To tell you what I overheard.”
I stared at her, waiting for her to continue. Finally, I had to say, “Go ahead. Spill.”
She leaned over the counter and spoke just above a whisper. “Zane, Liam, and Winks were talking in front of Zane’s locker, and I was just around the corner.”
“And?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. I was just listening. And I heard them make a bet.” She swallowed.
“A bet?”
“Yeah. They made a bet about which one of them will hook up with Morgan first. Do you believe that?”
I shook my head. “What are we? Chopped liver?”
She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Tell me about it.”
“Do you know how obvious I’ve been with Zane? I actually threw myself onto his lap and put my arms around his neck at Brian Dorsey’s party. And Zane still thinks of us as pals. But Morgan comes along with that perfect angel face and—”
“I’m thinking about Delia,” Amber interrupted. “If she knew that Winks was in a contest for another girl . . .”
The first bell rang.
Amber grabbed her backpack. “Gotta run. Later.” She rocketed out of the office.
I stood there thinking about the guys and their bet. Yes, Morgan is gorgeous. But, come on.
“You’re late again.” Mom appeared in her office door. She held a stack of blue folders in her hands. “Who were you talking to?”
“Amber. She just stopped by to—”
“We haven’t seen Amber in a long time,” Mom said. “You should invite her to dinner.”
“She’s always at a piano rehearsal,” I said.
“She’s a talented girl.”
What did that mean? Was she saying that I’m not talented? Mom and I have all these discussions about how I don’t have any hobbies or anything I’m passionate about.
Like that makes me a bad person.
Mom carried the blue folders over to Emily.
I thought about what Amber overheard. Three guys making a bet about Morgan. I had one more thing I wanted to do before I ran to homeroom.
I went into the student-profile files and typed in her name. The computers in the office are incredibly old and slow. They’re like caveman computers.
I squinted at the screen. Was I spelling her name correctly?
I tried a different spelling. M-A-R-X? M-A-R-C-K-S? There aren’t too many ways you can spell it.
“Julie, remember I have a meeting in Martinsville after school, so I’ll be home late,” Mom said.
“Mom, take a look at this.” I motioned her over.
“What’s the problem?”
“Well . . . that new girl. Morgan Marks? Her school records aren’t here. I can’t find anything.”
Mom lowered her face to the screen. She rubbed her chin. “Weird. She starts school today. The records are supposed to be on file before a new student can begin class.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Weird.”
