But right here, in this dark car, I had a mother who’d raised me.

We shared love. And, honestly, that’s the most important thing of all.

“I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a lousy daughter lately,” I said after a moment.

Mom turned in her seat to look me in the face. “Georgia,” she said, “I wish you hadn’t gotten into trouble at school. But you’re not a lousy daughter. You’re wonderful. And even if you were lousy—I’d still love you.” She reached out and pulled me close. She smelled of apple pie from the diner, and coffee, and a million other things that made her smell like Mom. “We’re a family, Georgia. Family is forever.”

We hugged for a long time. After a while, Mom let out a little squeak. Her body shook.

“What?” I asked, pulling away.

Mom squeaked again, and I realized she was laughing. “Pudding,” she said.

That made me chuckle too. “Yeah.”

“You really are Rafe’s sister, aren’t you?” Mom’s eyes sparkled, and I could tell that—in a weird way—she was proud of us.

Am I like Rafe? I thought about my last few weeks at HVMS. They certainly were filled with… mayhem.

“Yeah,” I said at last. “I guess I am.”

One Other Thing

Since it was True Confessions time, I told Mom about my grades.

“My teachers won’t give me a chance,” I said.

“I’ll take care of it,” Mom said, and I knew she would. When Mom went in to talk to teachers, she was like a lioness protecting her cubs. I almost felt bad for the Lizard King and Mr. Grank.

Almost.

“You should have told me about this earlier too,” Mom said.

“I thought you’d be disappointed,” I admitted.

“Georgia, I care about your grades, but only because I know you like school.” Mom started the car and backed out of our parking spot. “You’re good at it. You like to work hard, and you enjoy getting the grades you deserve. And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure your teachers understand that you aren’t Rafe.”

I’m not Rafe, my drowsy mind whispered. An image of myself onstage, with Rhonda, floated through my head. I saw Missy’s surprised face when I yanked off her skirt, Brittany’s tears as she realized how awful her friend was, and Sam’s sweet, dimpled smile as he asked me to dance. I remembered Mini-Miller’s shock as I kicked him in the shin. I saw Jeanne’s expression when she told me she really did like my green hair. I’m not Rafe, I thought. I’m Georgia. I’m me.

And for the first time in weeks, I was positive that middle school was going to be okay.