The List by Siobhan Vivian Page A

Milo over. “Shut up.”
    Milo grins. “It could be funny. I’ll wear a tie. I’ll get you a corsage.”
    Sarah stops herself from being surprised that Milo would want to go to the homecoming dance. It actually makes perfect sense, considering what she knows about him now.
    “So it’s a date?”
    Sarah shakes her head, baffled. “If by date you mean that you and I will show up at the same place at the same time, then yeah, I guess it’s a date. But don’t you dare get me a corsage.”
    The bell rings. It’s funny how absolutely insane this is. Sarah never in a million years thought she’d ever go to the Mount Washington homecoming dance. With a boy. And though she’d never admit it, there is a tiny glimmer deep down inside that is excited in a disgustingly typical way.
    On the way into school, Sarah watches the faces that pass her by. No one seems to notice that she’s in the same clothes as yesterday. Sucks.
    And then, out of freaking nowhere, Milo takes her hand. Easily, as if they hold hands all the time. Which they don’t.
    Sarah doesn’t pull away, even though she wants to, and even though she knows she’ll regret it later on. It is a glimmer of the Milo she thought she’d met. And it feels nice for one brief, too-fast moment.

wonder if Mr. Farber will call today,” Mrs. Finn says, as she turns to check her blind spot. “I hope he’s decent enough to tell me if I don’t get the job. Some people don’t give you that courtesy. That’s cruel, don’t you think?”
    “Yeah.”
    The word comes out a little too slow, a little too dragged out, because Lauren’s not really listening. She’s looking at the back side of the list, tucked between pages of World History notes.
    Yesterday had been full of introductions. A few girls took a formal approach, telling Lauren their first and last names. Others simply threw an arm over Lauren’s shoulder as she walked down the hall and struck up the kind of conversations that seemed reserved for old friends — complaints about period cramps, tidbits of gossip about people she’d yet to meet, confessions of crushes.
    Lauren tried to keep track of everyone she met. She wrote everything down on the back side of the list — a five-petal flower as a bullet point, followed by a name and a brief physical description. Initially, Lauren liked watching the page blossom like a springtime garden, but toward the end of the day, it grew into a tangled jungle, and it seemed impossible to distinguish one person from another. She worries about this now, as Mount Washington High appears before the windshield.
    “Do you have a history test today?” Mrs. Finn asks, andtries to get a look. “You didn’t mention it last night. We could have studied together.”
    Lauren flips her notebook over and curls her fingers around the spine. “No. I just have this feeling we might get a pop quiz.”
    Lauren hadn’t told her mother about the list. Obviously.
    First off, Lauren knew she would not approve. It was exactly the kind of thing that Mrs. Finn had wanted to shield Lauren from with homeschooling.
    But also, they’d spent the night going over every single moment of her mother’s job interview. Mrs. Finn seemed sure she hadn’t gotten the job. Lauren assured her mother that she’d done fine, but worried what might happen if she hadn’t.
    It’s hard sometimes, she thinks, having a mother for a best friend.
    Her mother manages a weak smile. “I wish you didn’t have to go to school today. I’ll be at home alone, driving myself crazy. Hey! I’ve got an idea! Do you want to go grab pancakes? There’s a little diner your grandfather took me to every Sunday and they make the best ones. I could write you a note. I’ll say you had a doctor’s appointment.”
    Though the pancakes are tempting, Lauren is actually kind of excited to go to school this morning. It’s the first time this has happened. “I can’t, Mommy. Sorry. That pop quiz would be first period.”
    “Right.