Her neighbor’s instant popularity made Kate’s alienation more unbearable. She wasn’t sure why it wounded her so much. All she knew was that every morning, as they stood at the bus stop beside each other and yet worlds apart, separated by yawning silence, Kate felt a desperate desire to be acknowledged by Tully.

Not that it would ever happen.

“. . . before The Carol Burnett show starts. It’s ready now. Kate? Katie?”

Kate lifted her head from the table. She’d fallen asleep on her open social studies textbook at the kitchen table. “Huh? What did you say?” she asked, pushing her heavy glasses back up into place.

“I made Hamburger Helper for our new neighbors. I want you to take it across the street.”

“But . . .” Kate tried to think of an excuse, anything that would get her out of this. “They’ve been here a week.”

“So I’m late. Things have been crazy lately.”

“I’ve got too much homework. Send Sean.”

“Sean’s not likely to make friends over there, now, is he?”

“Neither am I,” Kate said miserably.

Mom faced her. The brown hair she’d curled and teased so carefully this morning had fallen during the day and her makeup had faded. Now her round, apple-cheeked face looked pale and washed out. Her purple and yellow crocheted vest—a Christmas present from last year—was buttoned wrong. Staring at Kate, she crossed the room and sat down at the table. “Can I say something without you jumping all over me?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m sorry about you and Joannie.”

Of all the things Kate might have expected, that was not even on the list. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters. I hear she’s running with a pretty fast crowd these days.”

Kate wanted to say she couldn’t have cared less, but to her horror, tears stung her eyes. Memories rushed at her—Joannie and her on the Octopus ride at the fair, sitting outside their stalls at the barn, talking about how much fun high school would be. She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Life is hard sometimes. Especially at fourteen.”

Kate rolled her eyes. If there was one thing she knew, it was that her mother knew nothing about how hard life could be for a teenager. “No shit.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that word from you. It’ll be easy because I’ll never hear it again. Right?”

Kate couldn’t help wishing she was like Tully. She’d never back down so easily. She’d probably light up a cigarette right now and dare her mom to say something.

Mom dug through the baggy pocket of her skirt and found her cigarettes. Lighting up, she studied Kate. “You know I love you and I support you and I would never let anyone hurt you. But Katie, I have to ask you: What is it you’re waiting for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You spend all your time reading and doing homework. How are people supposed to get to know you when you act like that?”