I’d rather keep to myself. But now kids gather around Germ in corners to talk, or laugh, or just linger. I walk into rooms and find Germ sitting with people I don’t know, chatting, and it makes my heart pound a lopsided jealous rhythm, because I’ve never seen Germ look so happy or flattered (and also nervous, tucking her hair every few seconds). And even though I’m really, really scared of the ghost I think I saw (did I see it?) last night, the Bibi thing is my worst fears realized.

We make our way to our lockers. I still can’t get a word in because Germ is telling me all the details of the Fall Fling excitedly: how Bibi asked her; how the talent they’re doing is so secret, she can’t even tell me.

And then my chance to speak up comes because Germ pauses to catch her breath. And instead of my telling her about the ghost, something else entirely comes out.

“But, it’s Bibi,” I say. Germ gives me a sideways, wary look as I falter on. “Remember when she used to chase Muffintop the stray cat around the parking lot, trying to step on his tail? Remember when she used to call Matt Schnibble ‘Freckly Little Schnibbles’ and make him cry?”

Germ gets quiet. “She’s not like that anymore,” she says, uncertain and a little annoyed at the same time. Her freckles stand out on her cheeks as they flush. “She was going through a hard time then. She was really insecure. She’s not that bad.”

I don’t reply. Something about the way she defends Bibi, like they’ve had deep talks, makes me shut up like a clam. For the moment, my thoughts of the ghost have flown to the back of my head. I don’t blame Bibi for wanting to be friends with Germ. Germ is bottled lightning; Germ is the most likable person I know. But my feelings are swirling a million miles a minute and…

“Bibi will be good, but I’m gonna be terrible,” Germ says. “They’re gonna spitball me.”

I think this is probably true, so I try to be helpful.

“Just make sure you don’t wear eyeliner,” I blurt out. It’s like the words just escape my mouth before I’ve really thought about them.

Germ is silent for a moment, blinking at me. “I like eyeliner.”

“I know. It’s just, it’s not very, um, you,” I muddle out, biting my tongue.

“I can like new things,” Germ says quietly.

I nod silently.