which he keeps forgetting

anyway.

We sit like strangers,

as Mr. J starts to write

equations on the board

that I can hardly read

because my eyes are

blurry with tears,

as it occurs to me

that if Lizard could have done

that unforgivable thing,

maybe the two of us

were strangers

all along.

What Does Surprise Me

Lizard isn’t at our table at lunch.

“Where’s Lizard?”

I ask the others.

A long, uncomfortable pause follows

as they look at one another with twitchy eyes.

Maybe I shouldn’t have sat here

for lunch today, either.

Maybe lunch is one more thing

that can never be normal for me again.

Veronica is the first one to answer:

“When Zoey told us

that you didn’t know about…”

Her voice trails off.

Zari takes over:

“Well, when we found out that

Lizard told it to us

when she hadn’t even told it

to you…”

Zoey finishes:

“The three of us told her

she couldn’t sit with us

at lunch anymore.”

Veronica says,

“I mean, who wants to sit

with someone who’s a—”

The three of them say it together:

“Traitor.”

For Some Reason I Have to Ask the Next Question

“But where is Lizard?”

The three of them shrug,

as if they have no interest whatsoever

in the whereabouts of traitors.

I shouldn’t care, either.

But caring about somebody

isn’t something you can just turn off,

like a faucet.

It’s more like a leaky faucet,

where you turn the handle as tight as you can—

righty tighty, lefty loosey—

but there is that little

drop-drop-drop

that keeps on dripping.

It isn’t as if there is

any other place Lizard can be.

Unless she’s in the bathroom?

But there are teachers who stand in the hall

to make sure no one at Southern Peaks

spends too long in the bathroom

because last year some eighth graders

spent too long in the bathroom

and it turned out to be something

that had to do with drugs.

I peer around the cafeteria.

But it isn’t as if Lizard has any other real friends.

She just had me,

and I just had her,

except now I have Zoey, too.

Now Lizard doesn’t have me,

and I don’t have her,

and we’re never going

to have each other again.

And without me,

and without Zari, Zoey, and Veronica,

now Lizard doesn’t have

anywhere to sit

at all.

Then I See Her

She’s sitting at the table where

the Spanish-speaking kids always sit together.

Maybe she did decide to try to learn Spanish,

now that she’s given up on saving Guernésiais?

Or maybe she’s sitting there just because

there was an open spot at that table?

Or maybe this is her way

of sitting alone,

but not alone.

The Spanish-speaking kids

aren’t going to stop speaking Spanish

just because some uninvited kid