Page 29

I turned my back to her. And kept talking. “Yeah. So that’s all there is to say about that,” I told my friends.

“Was that your mom?” Bridget said. I guess she’d heard my mother’s declaration.

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes.

“You two are still fighting, huh?”

I sniffed. “You could say that.”

“What is her problem lately?” Schy demanded to know. “I used to be so jealous of the relationship you two had. My mom and I have never been so close. But in the past few days…I don’t know. It’s just strange.”

It flattered me to know she’d been jealous. But it also depressed me too. Mom and I had been close. What was changing? Well, besides everything.

“What about the rest of your day?” Bridget broke in, unknowingly pulling me off my track toward depression. “At least tell us you made a friend.”

I bit my lip and told them about Laina.

“Yeah, she sounds okay,” they agreed.

I nodded before rushing out the words, “Then Ryder’s friend Todd asked me to hang out with a bunch of them after their basketball game tonight.”

I swear all three of my friends chorused, “Really?” in unison.

Ugh, maybe I shouldn’t have told them about that. “But I’m not going,” I pledged.

I’d had reservations to begin with, but after hearing about Ryder and Kiera’s status, I really didn’t feel like attending. Then Ryder had gone and solidified my decision with his whole you don’t belong spiel. I still didn’t want to think about that. Every time I even started, tears began to work their way to my eyes.

“You should go,” Schy insisted.

“Yeah,” Bridget seconded.

“But they’re really not my kind of people,” I hedged and winced. And Ryder Yates would be there.

“How do you know they’re not your kind of people if you refuse to hang out with them?” Bridget asked.

I wasn’t sure how to explain it. I just knew. If any of those three had been around this group for the thirty seconds I had, they’d feel it too. Ryder Yates had been right. I wouldn’t fit in. They were too—what was the word—fast, maybe. Yeah, they were too fast for me.

What if they wanted to drink alcohol? Or take drugs? I’d probably expire on the spot. My type of people did not do that kind of thing. This new group…well, I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to find out either.

“You have to make friends, Grace. You just have to.” Bridget sounded desperate, as if her entire happiness relied on me fitting in at Southeast.

My resistance failed. “Okay,” I muttered. “I’ll go.”

“Grace!” the muffled voice of my mother bellowed through the house.

Instead of answering, I kept my back to the door and tried to think up something to say to keep me on the phone with my friends longer. “What color am I?” I asked.

There was a long pause before Adam said, “Um…Caucasian?”

“A very pale Caucasian,” Schy added. “In fact, you could use a good tan.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not the color of my skin. What color is my…my soul?”

Another long drawn out space of silence followed. Then Bridget hesitantly asked, “Why do you ask?”

“I have to write a paper for literature class.”

“You’re thinking this hard over a school paper?” Adam blurted out, sounding disgusted.