“Yes, but there’s a new teacher taking her place, somebody from Ohio State,” David said. “Everything is improved, they told Mother at the school meeting. It won’t be any fun learning new things without you. And there’ll be prizes and scholarships.”

“Maybe Lena will get some,” Marcia said.

David shook his head.

“No, she won’t, because all she cares about is boys. She isn’t like you.”

Marcia said nothing, half-glad that her own passionate interest in the boys was not obvious, since it was not a reciprocal matter, and half disgusted with David for being so dumb as not to see this. David was like Lena said he was, a little old man. He might be very bright and all that, but Marcia felt there must be something the matter with a boy that thought she was the most beautiful girl in town. She hoped nobody ever heard him saying this or they’d make fun of both of them. It was too bad he was half a head shorter than she was, and what with always talking like a book and wearing knickerbockers when the other boys wore long pants, David was worse than no boyfriend at all, even if they did make up exciting stories together. Now that was over, and the fact that David felt so forlorn about it made Marcia more philosophical. Maybe going to the new high school would just have meant that she would have to be mean to David, because she would want to go to the dances and parties and David would never fit in there; if you felt a misfit yourself you just wouldn’t dare go around with another misfit. She wouldn’t be allowed to go to any of the high school parties anyway, what was she thinking of? she reminded herself. She wouldn’t have the class dues or the right dress or permission to go with a boy. Even meeting David accidentally in the post office, on an errand for her stepmother, they had to talk at the writing desk, pretending to be waiting for stamps, for fear word would get back to her home. It was lucky she was there this day, for the postal clerk stuck his head out the window after a while and called to her.

“Here’s a card for one of you Willard girls,” he said. It was for her, and was a picture of Edgewater Park, Cleveland, with a few lines on the back from Mrs. Putney, “We’ll have a picnic supper in this park if you have a chance to visit us this summer. Bring your bathing suit.”

This exciting message was shared with David and all its possibilities gone over breathlessly. She would go to Cleveland when she ran away, and it would have to be soon now, before school began. She would go to Mrs. Putney’s and get a job from there. How wonderful that the postcard hadn’t gone home where perhaps she would never have received it or, even worse, her stepmother would have had to find out all about the Putneys. Marcia was so excited she wanted to tell Papa, Grandma, everybody, but David reminded her that this would spoil all her plans.