Quickly correct the river answer. But if that answer’s wrong, how many others are? Ice water turns to icicles—brain freezes. Read the other questions. Test translates into some bizarre language. Jumbled alphabet makes no sense. Gouge at the paper, scrub out random answers, erase so hard, the paper rips. Then change the answers back.

Panic. Do I turn this in and flunk? Crumple it up? Tell Mr. White I’m sick?

Yes! Go to the nurse. Study like mad over the weekend, retest next week.

But Mr. White clears his throat. Too late. The gig is up.

Ruby

Well, last night Danny was such a pain that I was all, “Fine. Leave. Whatever.”

I mean, did he think I was about to…what? Beg?

But he goes, “No, no, really, man, I’m sorry.” (Can you stand that he calls me man?) He says something about having a huge, like, geography test tomorrow and he hasn’t studied, and I’m thinking, “Excuse me, but whose fault is that?” He had as much time to study for it as anybody else in his class. Am I right?

Then I guess he notices I’m not exactly gushing with, like, sympathy, so he stops whining and tries to act semi-human. But still, you’d have to be, like, in a coma not to see that he was, I don’t know, mad or whatever. And it was embarrassing. I mean, there we were, supposedly helping and it was supposed to be romantic and all like that, and there’s Danny, the grump, just sort of moving chairs around, with a fish face.

Actually, my sister was so, like, out there that she probably didn’t notice Danny, because it’s her engagement party and her everything: her guests, her seating arrangements…

And my parents are, like, “Will the caterers screw up?” “Will the weather stink?” “Will the centerpieces look stupid?” So maybe no one noticed Danny being so, you know, whatever. But I sure noticed, and ask me if I liked it.

Then, finally I, like, repeat, “Okay, just leave then, Danny,” figuring he’ll get it that I’m seriously ticked.

But he starts nodding and backing away and, like, thanking me, and says he’s really gotta study for that test or whatever.

And I go, “So who’s stopping you?” (Never mind that he promised like a million weeks ago that he’d help us set up.)

So he just left! Like, actually left! Good-bye!

And I’m all, like, “Fine,” and thinking, in that case, he might as well just forget my sister’s party, too!

*   *   *

Okay, so then I see Danny this morning before school and he’s all, like, friendly. Saying he’s sorry for being in such a snit last night. Now he’s all smiles, and I’m, like—not.