Which is why it’s so important for me to get into a good school (and be able to pay for said school). Dad has always stressed how important education is, and he wants a better future for me. Even though I like my present. But I get it. I see the toll his construction job takes on him: the ache in his back from carrying heavy loads, the limp he has when he gets up from the couch, along with the stress from the uncertainty of where the next paycheck will come from when he finishes up a job.

So I have to nail these scholarship essays. Not just for me, but for Dad, too.

As if she could tell what I was stressing about, Dana Harris approaches our table. She is the only one who can take away the Academic Excellence Scholarship from me. Dana always walks with an extra bounce in her step, causing her impossibly long, waist-length blond hair to bobble behind her. “Hey, Neil,” she says with a bat of her eyelashes.

Oh, and she also continually throws herself at Neil. Not cool, Dana. Not cool.

“Hey, Neil,” Rob and Jan mimic. Rob even puts his chin in his hands and stares across the table at Neil with a lovesick expression.

“What’s up?” Neil replies without looking at her.

“Are you done? I thought we could walk to Physics together.”

“And, you know, have our own physical relationship,” Rob says, not even attempting to be quiet.

Neil gets up, probably in an attempt to avoid Rob embarrassing him even more. “See you later.” Neil looks at me to save him, but all I can think to do is shrug.

“Love, exciting and new,” Rob sings in a cheesy lounge-singer voice he’s imitating from this old TV show Dad and I sometimes watch if he wants to get “nostalgic.” (In case this wasn’t already obvious, Dad and I watch a lot of TV.)

Marian waits until Neil and Dana exit the cafeteria before she hits Rob on the arm. “Leave Neil alone. You know he doesn’t like Dana.”

“Yeah, but Miss Clueless has no idea he likes her,” Rob fires back.

“Can we stop with the Miss stuff?” Marian gets up from the table.

“Who’s Miss Clueless?” I ask. Neil and I talk every day on the way to school, and he hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Oh God, maybe it’s because he knows that I kind of, I don’t know, maybe … I don’t know. Clearly.

“Let’s go, Ally.” Marian balls up her lunch bag as I get up and follow. When we arrive in the hallway with the senior lockers, Marian looks around suspiciously.

“What’s going on?” I ask. Marian usually isn’t concerned about who can hear her. It’s pretty hard to keep a secret in a town of two thousand people, especially if you’re a Gleason.