mouth dry.
“No, I’ve been here before. The line goes pretty fast.” Even as Sarah spoke, the line moved forward. “See?”
Sarah was, if anything, even prettier now than she was in ninth grade. Her hair was shorter and cut in a chin-length bob. She looked older than other girls, but not in the same way other girls looked older, with heavy makeup and revealing clothes. She just looked more comfortable with herself and happier.
Ryan Starling, an idiot who rode on Matthew’s bus, turned around and looked at them. “What are you two doing here?” he said. Ryan was also a star wrestler, which meant his legs and arms bowed a little with all of his muscles.
Sarah laughed easily, like what he said was funny, not insulting. “We live here, actually, Ryan. We eat every single meal here. It’s strange, I know, but we can’t get enough of it.”
“This crap ?” Ryan said.
“I know. Weird, right? Do this: order every item off the dollar menu and eat it all in one sitting. Afterward you’ll think, God, I really love Taco Bell .”
Ryan leaned toward Sarah and lifted his eyebrows. “How ’bout you help me eat it?”
“Oh no. Not today. I only let myself do that treat once a week.”
Matthew watched them and wondered: What happened to the shy girl who cried at the attention reciting a French dialogue focused on her? When had Sarah Heffernan gotten to be joking buddies with the jocks?
“I’ll tell you what. If I order all that food, why don’t you sit with me anyway—”
“Not today, Ryan. Let’s get dysentery together another time, ’kay?”
After Matthew and Sarah got their food, they sat down at the only empty table left, in front of the drink dispenser. “How do you know that guy?” Matthew whispered.
“Who, Ryan?” Sarah shrugged. “I think we had Life Drawing together last year. He’s not as bad as he seems, but maybe that’s not saying too much.”
Matthew wanted to ask how she’d grown more relaxed over the last three years while the opposite had been true for him. He wondered if she even remembered the conversation they once had where she cried and he comforted her. Instead of asking about this, he asked why she signed up to work with Amy. Right away she grew quiet, as if it was an awkward question.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Sarah said. “Not that interesting, probably.”
“Does it have to do with your dad?”
She started eating one of her tacos one-handed. He’d ordered a burrito, but couldn’t bring himself to unwrap it. “Sort of,” she said softly. “He asked me to do it. And I didn’t have much community service for my college apps.”
He wondered if he should tell her what Amy had once pointed out to him—that technically you shouldn’t get paid for community service. “Why did your dad want you to do it?”
“He always felt bad about something that happened when Amy was in his class.”
She told him the story about the science fair that he already knew. “He didn’t let her participate because he always assumed that Nicole pushed Amy to be some kind of disabled superachiever. Like her mother had this agenda to prove the doctors were wrong. He thought it was dangerous for Amy’s sake, and none of the school administrators would say no when she signed Amy up for an all-honors schedule. He was convinced Nicole wrote the science fair proposal.” She shrugged. “I guess he wanted to know if he was right.”
“He wanted you to figure out if Amy was really smart?”
“Something like that.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I thought he was probably right. I know that sounds terrible—I know Amy’s smart enough that she could have written the proposal; I just don’t think she did . I don’t think she’s that into science.” She shrugged as if this wasn’t a particularly shocking thing to say. “I don’t know. It’s just my hunch.”
Matthew felt his face go red. He’d never be able to eat a bite now. “How can you say that? Of
“No, I’ve been here before. The line goes pretty fast.” Even as Sarah spoke, the line moved forward. “See?”
Sarah was, if anything, even prettier now than she was in ninth grade. Her hair was shorter and cut in a chin-length bob. She looked older than other girls, but not in the same way other girls looked older, with heavy makeup and revealing clothes. She just looked more comfortable with herself and happier.
Ryan Starling, an idiot who rode on Matthew’s bus, turned around and looked at them. “What are you two doing here?” he said. Ryan was also a star wrestler, which meant his legs and arms bowed a little with all of his muscles.
Sarah laughed easily, like what he said was funny, not insulting. “We live here, actually, Ryan. We eat every single meal here. It’s strange, I know, but we can’t get enough of it.”
“This crap ?” Ryan said.
“I know. Weird, right? Do this: order every item off the dollar menu and eat it all in one sitting. Afterward you’ll think, God, I really love Taco Bell .”
Ryan leaned toward Sarah and lifted his eyebrows. “How ’bout you help me eat it?”
“Oh no. Not today. I only let myself do that treat once a week.”
Matthew watched them and wondered: What happened to the shy girl who cried at the attention reciting a French dialogue focused on her? When had Sarah Heffernan gotten to be joking buddies with the jocks?
“I’ll tell you what. If I order all that food, why don’t you sit with me anyway—”
“Not today, Ryan. Let’s get dysentery together another time, ’kay?”
After Matthew and Sarah got their food, they sat down at the only empty table left, in front of the drink dispenser. “How do you know that guy?” Matthew whispered.
“Who, Ryan?” Sarah shrugged. “I think we had Life Drawing together last year. He’s not as bad as he seems, but maybe that’s not saying too much.”
Matthew wanted to ask how she’d grown more relaxed over the last three years while the opposite had been true for him. He wondered if she even remembered the conversation they once had where she cried and he comforted her. Instead of asking about this, he asked why she signed up to work with Amy. Right away she grew quiet, as if it was an awkward question.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Sarah said. “Not that interesting, probably.”
“Does it have to do with your dad?”
She started eating one of her tacos one-handed. He’d ordered a burrito, but couldn’t bring himself to unwrap it. “Sort of,” she said softly. “He asked me to do it. And I didn’t have much community service for my college apps.”
He wondered if he should tell her what Amy had once pointed out to him—that technically you shouldn’t get paid for community service. “Why did your dad want you to do it?”
“He always felt bad about something that happened when Amy was in his class.”
She told him the story about the science fair that he already knew. “He didn’t let her participate because he always assumed that Nicole pushed Amy to be some kind of disabled superachiever. Like her mother had this agenda to prove the doctors were wrong. He thought it was dangerous for Amy’s sake, and none of the school administrators would say no when she signed Amy up for an all-honors schedule. He was convinced Nicole wrote the science fair proposal.” She shrugged. “I guess he wanted to know if he was right.”
“He wanted you to figure out if Amy was really smart?”
“Something like that.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I thought he was probably right. I know that sounds terrible—I know Amy’s smart enough that she could have written the proposal; I just don’t think she did . I don’t think she’s that into science.” She shrugged as if this wasn’t a particularly shocking thing to say. “I don’t know. It’s just my hunch.”
Matthew felt his face go red. He’d never be able to eat a bite now. “How can you say that? Of
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