But Macey stood in the media center, not in church. Mrs. Johnson had gotten the time blocks rearranged and all her classes were gathered together. Across the room, Austin slouched against the wall with his class. “This is your chance,” said Mrs. Johnson, “to create Web pages seen by the entire world.”

“Assuming anybody in the entire world would ever visit a school page,” said Max. “This has the potential to be a truly loser site. But I admit, I’m dying to be part of it.”

Dying.

Good night, sweet Prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

But no fifteen-year-old ever wanted rest.

Don’t think about her, darling. It’s so sad, but there’s nothing you can do.

Just a sentence before catching a train.

Macey wanted to be at Good Shepherd, where people wept for a girl who should still be painting the world gold.

“We’ll have lots of links,” said Graff, “but it’s your responsibility to make the site exciting.”

“That’s way too much responsibility,” said Max.

Behind Max, and off to the side, Austin was tapping his watch and lifting his chin toward Macey. Saying: I know what time it is; I wanted to go, too.

Texas is real proud of saving you.

“I’m going to do the island beaches,” said Jennifer, slipping forward to stand next to Max. “They’re so pretty. We can get aerial shots, and little-kid-diving-off-the-pier shots, and sailboat race shots. Blue and white, the best graphic.”

Don’t you love that word indigo? Doesn’t it sound bluer than blue?

April had remained cold, but Jennifer had dressed for summer; she looked like a wedding guest in snow white slacks, a white shirt and a sea green silk jacket.

I’m not jealous, though, I like our paint best.

“I’d do that with you, Jen,” offered Max.

Jennifer had not dressed for summer; she had dressed for Max. “That would be great, Max!” said Jennifer. “Do you sail? I have a Laser and our races begin next month.”

“Sailboat races and beaches are not history,” said Mrs. Johnson. “Nor may you work together. Remember, first you write the paper. Second, you get an A. Then you qualify for a Web page. Jennifer, you could do the history of how the town acquired the islands. And Max, you could research the founding of the yacht clubs. Some of New York’s first Wall Street moguls were involved.”

Macey was going to start sobbing. She could feel Venita in the room with her, this completely white room with enough computers to change Venita’s school, with enough money and books and classroom copies for any two schools.

She tried to compose a prayer for Venita, but she could think of only two syllables. No. And God.