“Well, she left school after second period. Guess somebody expected a spot, huh?” Nessa raised an eyebrow. Then her face fell. “This is all pretty messed up.”

Eve nodded. Looking around them she saw that they weren’t the only pair of friends nestled more tightly together that day, as if by physically sticking closely to one another they could create a shield from staring eyes, from the rankings. And the lack-of-rankings. But even as everyone stuck to their friendship groups, they also checked out one another, gauging the reactions of the other girls in school, and watching how the boys responded. Some kids leaned their heads in toward one another, speaking in hushed whispers, just like Eve and Nessa were doing. Brody Dixon held court as usual, telling a story with wild hand motions, taking up all the oxygen in the lunchroom. His crowd of worshippers guffawed at whatever he was saying.

“Oh, good. Looks like he’s having a great day,” Nessa muttered, looking off toward the same spot as Eve.

Farther down the table, though, where Sophie Kane sat with the Sophies, things looked more solemn. They ate in near silence.

Rose Reed put a hand on Sophie Kane’s shoulder, and Eve might have been imagining it, but she thought she saw Sophie stiffen.

“Sophie Kane must hate you,” Nessa whispered.

“Oh my gosh, you’re right,” Eve said. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

The two of them sat with this for a moment, and quickly turned away when a couple of the Sophies glanced toward their corner.

“What do you think Principal Yu is going to say at the assembly?” Nessa wondered aloud before blowing bubbles into her grape juice.

An assembly had been called for the eighth graders in place of last period to “discuss, as a community, the incident earlier today,” Principal Yu told them over the loudspeakers.

“Who knows? But whatever it is, it won’t make a difference.” Eve glanced back one last time at the Sophies. Sophie stared at her, her made-up face unreadable. Eve jumped a little in her seat.

She turned to Nessa. “What do I do about Sophie Kane?”

Nessa shrugged. “Like my dad always says: ‘This, too, shall pass.’”

“Oh, great.”

Miranda Garland and one of her friends walked by their table and waved at Eve, ignoring Nessa. Eve lifted a hand in response, trying not to grimace at the awkwardness of it all.

“Well, excuse me,” Nessa said under her breath.

“Was Miranda on the list?” Eve asked.

Nessa eyed her phone. “Nope.” She shook her head. “Who wrote this stupid thing, I wonder? The account name is LordTesla. Creepy!”

But Eve had retreated into her own little world. “There’s this famous Emily Dickinson poem…,” she began, and Nessa sighed.

“Here we go with Emily again.” Nessa returned to blowing bubbles.

“What? I love her, okay?” As Eve pushed around her fruit salad with a fork, she recited: “It goes, I’m nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too?”