Secret of the Sevens by Lynn Lindquist

about you.” I comb my hand through my hair. “You know you’re pretty.”
    â€œPretty unhot, apparently.”
    â€œNo. Like … cute.”
    â€œOh, shut up. I don’t need your approval. Or any guy’s. I grew up with a house full of you males. Trust me, you’re nothing special. You’re always checking out your muscles in the mirror. You fart for entertainment, and you touch yourselves every five minutes to make sure your package is still there. I don’t give a care what you think.”
    I want to laugh about how she can’t curse, but I stop myself. “Apparently you do, or you wouldn’t be so pissed.”
    Her mouth forms different vowel shapes, but no words come out. “What I think,” she finally stammers, “is I’m sick of you picking on me.”
    â€œOh bull. I don’t pick on you.”
    â€œReally? You nicknamed me Brainy Laney in middle school. Freshman year, all I heard was how I’d never been kissed. Sophomore year you called me the Proud Prude until Mom made you stop. And how about last year? Constantly riding me about Kollin? Kollin’s a great guy, and all you do is rip on him. It’s like I’m living with a bully.”
    â€œI’m just teasing you.”
    â€œAnd you know what I hate the most?” Her lower lip quivers. “The way you’re always calling me nerdling and brainiac, like it’s an insult to be smart.” Laney’s jaw tightens. “Guess what, Michaels? It isn’t. I love being smart. You should try it sometime.”
    â€œI never knew you felt like this. Hell, you dish out worse all the time.”
    â€œOnly when you start it. And I’d never say anything if I thought it would really hurt you.”
    â€œNeither would I.” I lay my hand on her shoulder and she shakes it off. She opens the door and nudges me out. “Go away. Now.”
    I turn to say something, but she closes the door on me.
    Forget it. I tried. I’m done. This is exactly why I don’t get involved with girls. I know better than to care.

Thirteen
    I toss and turn all night, replaying Laney’s words in my head. I think of the way her voice broke when she accused me of bullying her, and my skin crawls. I kick the covers off and rearrange my pillow.
    She’s crazy. I hate bullies. I’m no bully.
    By morning, I’m annoyed and overtired. I’ve got to talk to Laney before school or I’ll never be able to concentrate. Everyone’s at the refrigerator in the kitchen grabbing their lunches but her. Her sack is already gone, and her backpack isn’t on her hook.
    I look for her at lunch, but she’s not sitting with her friends. Kollin is there, but her usual seat next to him is vacant. Marcus is alone at our table when I sit down next to him.
    Why am I letting this get to me? It’s Laney’s fault for overreacting about a stupid remark. It’s Laney’s fault for making me lose sleep over this. It’s Laney’s fault for getting worked up over some innocent teasing. It’s Laney’s fault for …
    Damn. Why am I such an ass?
    â€œWhat’s with you?” Marcus asks, crunching on his chips.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYou’re sitting there all pissed, staring at LeBeau like he just screwed your girlfriend.”
    I snap without thinking, “Laney’s not my girlfriend!”
    Marcus jerks his head back. “No duh.” His eyebrows bunch together. “It’s an expression. You were staring over at his table like you wanted to kick some ass.”
    How do I explain this without explaining it? “I just hate the guy, that’s all.”
    â€œWhatever. Are you gonna eat your chips?” Marcus points at my lunch, sitting untouched on my brown paper bag.
    â€œNo. Take ’em.”
    Dang you, Laney . I stand up and grab my backpack off the floor.
    â€œWhere you going, dude?”
    â€œI need to talk to