“How long have I been in there?” she asked, glancing at the clock. It said 3:08. “Is that clock right, Myles?” He looked up at it, then at his watch.

“Yeah, 3:08.”

“It was just five minutes. It seemed like forever.”

“I heard the Mean Queens giggling and a sixth grader was tagging along. They were saying something about shoving someone into a locker. I figured it was you.”

“You did? How come?”

He looked at her and tipped his head. “You really don’t know why?”

“I’m not sure . . . my blog, maybe?”

“Not maybe—definitely, Rose. They’re just jealous.”

“But I haven’t written on my blog since . . . since my mom died.”

“The internet, YouTube. Just google Rose Ashley and you show up.” Myles stopped his wheelchair and met her eyes.

“Don’t let them scare you, Rose. You should keep writing your blog. They’ll get bored eventually. That skirt you made from scarves and ties, that was so cool. I showed my mom a picture of it on your blog. She thought it was great. And that bow tie of the month thing! Joe had this great idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Could you make us all bow ties? You should do some for girls too, of course.”

“What girls would wear them?”

“Not all the girls at Lincoln are Mean Queens. Like Susan and Zora and Lydia. They’ve all checked out your website.”

“Well, I have to wait until my sewing machine arrives. It’s supposed to come any day.”

He started up his wheelchair again, and they walked outside. Rose thought about what he was saying. His electric wheelchair suddenly shot ahead.

“Hey, slow down. Doesn’t that thing have a low gear?”

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were a fast walker.”

“Not today.”

“Are you all right, Rose?”

“Yeah . . . yeah . . . as right as one can be after being shoved in a locker. Just thinking about what you said.”

“Someone’s waving at you over there.”

“Oh, that’s Calvin, my grandmother’s driver. I have an orthodontist appointment.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow. I hope those girls get what’s coming to them for that. It was a mean trick.”

Rose turned on her heel. “Don’t tell on them, Myles. It will make it all the worse—for me. I . . . I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can, Rose. Never doubted you. But I am going to tell Joe and Anand. We’ll be on the lookout for you.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Rose said when Betty opened the front door. “My teeth hurt. The orthodontist tightened my braces. Have my boxes come yet? Caroline said she sent them two days after I left.”

“No, but they will get here. UPS is very reliable.”