Solving Zoe by Barbara Dee Page A

she hurried away.
    For the rest of the morning no one talked to Zoe. No one looked at her either. It was the strangest feeling: She didn’t want anyone making stupid comments or asking stupid questions, but the fact that nobody was even willing to make eye contact in the hallway was horrible. Scary, even. It was as if some alarm had gone off, silent to Zoe, and now everyone at Hubbard had one single thought: Zoe Bennett? Anonymous note writer. Even to her best friend: How sick is that? Whatever you do, don’t look at her—it could be contagious!
    At lunch she sat next to Ezra, who nodded at her onceand spent the rest of the period reading. Right after lunch was Math. As Zoe walked toward Anya’s room, she could see Jake and Mackenzie standing in front of the door, as if they were waiting.
    Mackenzie was holding a legal pad and a pencil. “Oh, hello, Zoe,” she said somberly, in her police detective voice. “We’d like you to write ‘eye of the gecko’ on this sheet of paper. Ten different times, please.”
    â€œWhy should I?”
    â€œSo we can do a handwriting analysis,” Jake said, folding his arms.
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    â€œYou’re refusing?”
    â€œYou can’t,” said Mackenzie, horrified. “If you do, that proves you’re guilty!”
    â€œIt doesn’t prove anything, Mackenzie,” Zoe said through her teeth. “Now leave me alone.”
    She pushed open Anya’s door and walked quickly to her seat. She was shaking; she couldn’t help it. A handwriting analysis? Whose idea was that? And why did she have to say something as dorky as No, thanks ? Isadora would have stood up straight and bellowed some dramatic line like How dare you imply…? Well, at least she’d refused to take their stupid test. And it wasn’t like they could force her to, anyway.
    She took her Math binder out of her backpack, and then grabbed a few Prismacolor pencils. Just for a few minutes, she promised herself. Until I can think straight.
    She let her hair fall over her face to form a sort of curtain. And then she began doodling geckoes.
    And eyes.
    And gecko eyes.
    Everyone is completely blind, she told herself. They spent all day staring at everybody, but they weren’t actually seeing anything. Even Dara couldn’t see the real Zoe right now, and how could she possibly fix that? Run up to her at dismissal and shout, It’s me, Zoe! Your best friend, remember? I haven’t changed one subatomic bit! But she knew it wouldn’t work; somehow in Dara’s eyes she just kept getting smaller and blurrier. Pretty soon Dara wouldn’t be able to see her at all.
    And then there was Lucas. He saw some things just brilliantly, but he hallucinated the rest. If she tried talking to him, would he even listen? Or would he just call her a brain-damaged pigpen, and then laugh dementedly about her losing her best friend?
    Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Zoe?” Anya was saying, frowning at Zoe’s drawing. “Did you hear what I was just saying to the class?”
    â€œI guess not.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll repeat it, then. Clear everything from your desk. We’re having a self-assessment.”
    â€œThat means a test,” Jake called out.
    â€œI don’t believe in tests,” Anya said patiently. “I just want to see your thought process.”
    â€œSo why can’t we just tell you our thought process without having to clear our desks?”
    â€œWill you please relax, Jake? And everybody else: This is a self -assessment. That means you guys do the grading, not me.”
    â€œIt’s still being graded,” Jake complained.
    â€œCan I hand out the self-assessments?” Paloma asked enthusiastically.
    â€œThanks, Paloma,” Anya said, “but I’ll pass them out myself.”
    â€œOh, come on, Anya. Please.”
    Anya laughed. “You guys are so hyper