Though, honestly, I don’t really see how she could.

The first bell goes off, and through the windows, we can see kids hustling to get to class before the tardy bell. A girl I’ve never even seen before looks into the library and tugs at her friend’s shirt to get her attention. The two of them stare for a second, then shriek and run away.

Like I’m a dangerous animal in a zoo.

A tear falls onto the table between me and Fina.

“Don’t pay attention to them, Emma,” she says. “They’re jerks.”

“They think I’m a freak, Fina,” I whisper.

“No they don’t,” she replies firmly.

“Yes they do!” I cry. “And maybe they’re right!”

Fina’s jaw drops. “Emma, no!”

Mr. Yardley has spotted us and is striding over.

“I’ll see you later,” I say. Then I grab Gram’s satchel and, clutching it for dear life, burst through the library door and out into the hall. Fortunately, there’s a bathroom just around the corner. I run into it before anyone sees me, shooting into a stall and locking it behind me.

I don’t think I’m ever going to come out.

28

I know I’m going to be in trouble for skipping first period, but anything is better than facing what’s beyond the bathroom door.

Between first and second period, a group of girls comes in talking about me.

“I can’t believe she would come to school,” says one. I don’t recognize her voice.

“Seriously. It’s like she doesn’t care that she’s putting all of us in danger. So wrong.”

I put my palms over my ears and press as hard as I can.

When I drop my hands, the girls are gone, but the door soon swings open again.

“Emma?” Fina calls softly. “Are you in here?”

I bite my lip and say nothing, and after a minute, she leaves.

A little while later, someone else comes in and knocks on the door of my stall. “Emma? It’s Ms. Singh.”

When I don’t answer, she adds, “I know you’re in there. Fina told me.”

Fina must have recognized my shoes. Slowly I get up and unlock the door. Ms. Singh stands on the other side. “We have to stop meeting like this, Emma,” she says with a hint of a smile that I can’t return.

“Did Fina tell you why I’m here?” I ask.

Ms. Singh shakes her head. “Do you want to tell me?”

“No,” I say. I don’t ever want to repeat the things I read on that website, or the lies Edie wrote about me to everyone.

“Well, I can’t let you stay in this bathroom all day,” she says.

“I can’t go to class.”