My Life in Dioramas by Tara Altebrando

mother—on the way home, but I don’t think my mom even noticed.
    At home I went straight down to the arts room and gathered up the Barbie dolls and threw them out. I hadn’t even wanted the dolls—only the clothes—so it was sort of a pointless gesture but somehow it felt good anyway.
    There was a text from Stella on my phone.
    Are you mad at me?
    I lay there on my bed for a while, thinking about how much my life stank and how awesome Stella’s life was.
    Solo!
    Karaoke thirteenth birthday!
    Horse camp!
    She had to ask ?
    It felt good, in a way, that Miss Emma knew. But I didn’t feel like letting Stella off the hook. Sometimes I felt like that was all anybody ever did with Stella. Me included.
    It hadn’t been up to her to tell!
    I wrote back:
    Yes.
    Then wrote a follow-up that said:
    Yes, I am.
    I figured that would be the end of it, but then maybe ten minutes later my phone buzzed. Her text said:
    Fine. Whatever. I am, too.

17.
    Megan was in my seat on the bus the next morning. But some guardian angel must have been looking down on me because the seat beside Naveen was empty. Lou must have been home sick. I slid in next to Naveen, hoping no one would really notice.
    â€œHey,” I said.
    â€œHey,” he said. “Everything okay? Because this is an extreme breach of bus protocol.”
    â€œStella told our dance instructor that I might be moving.”
    â€œSo you’re mad at her.”
    â€œVery. I mean, now everyone at dance class knows.”
    Naveen sighed. “I hate to be the one to point this out, but there is a FOR SALE sign in front of Big Red. It’s not exactly a secret.”
    Of course that was true. I knew Megan had seen it. We just didn’t live on a particularly busy street, so I still figured not that many people knew.
    â€œAnyway, even if people know you’re moving,” Naveen said, “they don’t know why . If that’s what you’re worried about.”
    I nodded. “You always know how to make me feel better.”
    â€œSpeaking of which, I have materials for you.”
    I tilted my head. “Dead rodent? Rotting food?”
    He shook his head. “For your dioramas , Kate.”
    â€œOhhhh,” I said.
    â€œI can drop it off later at Big Red?”
    â€œAwesome.”

    It was easier to avoid Stella all day than I’d imagined and she wasn’t on the bus on the way home. I figured her mom was picking her up to take her to a private session with Miss Emma. Lou, however, was on the bus. So maybe he’d just missed it this morning. I slid into my usual seat alone and was as surprised as anybody when Megan slid into the seat next to me and locked eyes with me.
    â€œWhat?” I said. She looked like she had something on her mind.
    â€œI heard your parents are selling the house because they’re basically broke.”
    I must have turned as red as Big Red. “Stella told you that?”
    â€œNo.” Megan shrugged a shoulder. “I heard my parents talking.”
    I wasn’t sure which was worse, Stella having told her or us being the talk of the town. I said, “Next time tell them it’s none of their business.”
    â€œIt’s what they do.”
    â€œWhat? Gossip?”
    She rolled her eyes. “They’re in real estate.”
    â€œWell, good for them.”
    I pushed past her and got off at Big Red, wanting to kick the FOR SALE sign, or maybe throw it into the woods.
    I dropped my backpack on the kitchen table and said hi to my dad, who had headphones on at the desk in the loft and told me Mom was out running errands.
    â€œNaveen’s dropping by with some stuff for me,” I said, and he gave me a thumbs-up.
    I went back out to the porch and imagined the bus stopping at Naveen’s, and him getting off, and going inside to say hi to his mom, then grabbing a box or bag or filling up his backpack. I sat on one of the chairs on the front