“Stop, Logan,” I say out loud, talking to myself like I’m another person. “You’re not going to let Jesse and all the rest of those jerks get to you.”

Cade and I won’t be silenced. An idea comes to me, a way for Cade and me to speak to our haters without actually saying a word. I go online, find the perfect quote to contribute to Mr. Bartley’s wall:

“I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” —Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor (Quote contributed by Logan March and Cade Crawford)

* * *

I turn the corner from Washington Avenue to Third Street and find Cade. He’s bundled into his winter coat and the knit hat that Nana made him for Christmas last year. I’m wearing one just like his, but Nana added pompoms hanging from earflaps.

“Hi,” he says, shifting his backpack on his shoulder. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“Define okay.” Dark circles ring Cade’s eyes. “You look like you got as much sleep as I did. Two hours. You?”

“Maybe four. I fell asleep in Grandpa’s workshop.” He scoops up some snow, nails a fire hydrant. “We got a major cancellation at the inn because of the article.”

“Oh, Cade. No!”

“I spent most of the night trying to figure out how I could help financially. I ended up in Grandpa’s workshop. There are a few pieces of furniture he was building from reclaimed wood. I’m going to finish them. Sell them on eBay or Etsy.”

I set my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“No regrets, okay?”

“And Nana? How is she?”

“She doesn’t know. Mom doesn’t want to tell her, and Dad thinks with pressure from outside sources, Mr. Bartley will cancel the assignment.”

“That’s what Lissa Chen said.” When we reach the steps of our school, I stop. “I’m not ready for this.”

He gives my pompoms a tug. “We got this.”

“Maybe you do, but I don’t.”

Cade’s lips quirk. “I know exactly what will help. Mom made me say this ten times this morning before she let me leave. ‘I’m granite. I’m steel. I’m titanium. No one and nothing will get to me today.’ Say it with me.”

“No. I’m not going to.”

He laughs. “Come on now. Say it. With conviction.”

“No!” I stick out my tongue and Cade laughs harder. “You think it’s funny, huh? Do you know how unfunny it is?”

He raps his knuckles on top of my head. “Oh yeah, solid rock.”