There’s also the fact that Ale’s still only halfway to saving enough for that hive she wants so much while I just sort of shot to the finish line without even earning it. I can’t exactly complain to her about it.

So I try to smile and act super happy to everyone who comes up to me.

I manage all right for most of the morning. Then, before lunch, I stop to use the teachers’ bathroom, the one that’s big enough for my chair and opens right off the main hallway. I’m taking longer than I need to, getting a break from everyone coming up to me to talk about the raffle and the money. As I’m washing my hands, I hear a couple teachers stop in the hall outside and start talking to Dawn, who is waiting for me.

“Such an inspiring event, Miss Wanamaker,” someone says. It sounds like Ms. Jiga, my study-hall teacher. “Once our Emmie gets a speedy new wheelchair, your job will only get harder, won’t it?”

She won’t have a job then, I remind myself. My new wheels will show everyone I don’t need extra help.

It shouldn’t sting so much, the laugh they all share.

Then another voice chimes in. “What’s with the little romance brewing between her and Devontae Washington? Has somebody got herself a bit of a crush?”

My head snaps up. Is it that obvious? Why on earth would teachers have anything to say about that, anyhow? I turn the water off slowly, so I can hear them better.

Dawn chuckles. “Cute as can be, aren’t they? He’s such a sweet young man—and such a generous gift from his family, wasn’t it? I don’t think it’s any big thing, though.”

I feel my face go hot. I know what she’s not saying and what the rest of them are now all mm-hmming about. As much as I try not to let my mind go there, that makes me think about that two-hundred-dollar check Devontae’s dad scratched at the raffle like it was pocket change.

I try to ignore it. I do. But it’s too late. Somewhere deep down inside me, a hard little seed of doubt bursts into bloom.

It’s still bothering me that evening. It’s a school night for Dad, so he isn’t here to talk to. I almost call Ale, but I’m afraid if I get talking, I might accidentally slip up and say something ungrateful-sounding about the fundraiser.

I decide maybe AK_SalmonGranny would be a safe bet. She’s a million miles away in Alaska, so even if she thinks I’m an ungrateful jerk for having all these feelings, at least I won’t see her disapproval in person. Plus, something tells me she might not think I’m being unreasonable. More and more, I wonder what she might have to say about a whole lot of things.

I grab the laptop off the coffee table and bring it to my desk. When I open it up, I see Dad’s left his email open, logged into his inbox. I’m about to close it out when I notice the subject on the newest message.