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When she said nothing, I waved. “I’m Keene. Keene Dugger. There’s an E at the end, but it’s silent. Lots of people try to pronounce it when they see it, though, and they call me Keeney, so I gotta straighten ’em out and tell ’em I’m just Keene.” Motioning toward her hands, I asked, “Watcha doing?”

She looked down at her lap, then up at me, and she squinted slightly as if she couldn’t fathom a reason why I would talk to her. Then she answered, “I’m waiting to die.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you sick?” I wondered. “Cancer? My mom died of cancer. Lady cancer that boys can’t get. Do you got the lady cancer too?”

The girl shook her head and stared at me as if I was some kind of puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

I furrowed my brow, confused too, because I sure as heck couldn’t figure her out right back. “Then how do you know you’re gonna die?”

She shrugged. “Because everyone dies.”

I tilted my face and scratched my hair. Finally, I just asked, “Are you weird or something?”

Heaving out a defeated breath, the girl let her shoulders slump. “My mom doesn’t like it when people call me that,” she announced. “But yeah. I’m weird. Really weird.”

“Are you on the spectrum?” I wondered, starting to grow excited. “My mom was on the spectrum. She had autism.”

This girl kept reminding me more and more of my mother with each passing breath.

Gah, I missed Mom so much; I wanted to latch on to anything even remotely similar to her and just…never let go again.

But the dadgum girl wrinkled her nose before asking, “What’s the spectrum?”

And just like that, I deflated. “Well, if you don’t know,” I grumbled, “you’re not on it.”

“Oh.” She seemed to catch on to the fact that this was disappointing news, and she slumped as well. “Sorry.”

I shrugged, moving past it, only to wonder, “How come you’re so weird, then?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted glumly, glancing over at me with those sad, sad eyes. “I just don’t know how to be normal.”

“Huh,” I answered, not sure what to make of that.

The girl went back to counting her fingers, and I couldn’t handle being ignored, so I rushed to say, “It’s okay. I like weird people just fine.”

She looked up in surprise. “You do?”

“Heck, yeah.” I nodded encouragingly. “My mom was weird, and she was my favorite person on the whole planet. She talked funny, repeating things all the time and counting them aloud, and she didn’t know a lot of stuff people should just know …

you know. But she was still my favorite person, and I loved her more than anyone. ”

After a long, slow blink of those brown, brown eyes, the girl asked, “When did she die?”

My throat closed over as I remembered Mom’s funeral, remembered how it had sucked the air straight from my lungs and made me think I was going to die too.

“Three months ago,” I managed to rasp.

Watching me as if she understood my pain, the girl said, “My babysitter died four months ago.”

Babysitter? She was here because she was grieving for some dumb babysitter? I’d lost my mother . The only person I’d ever lived with. She’d been my entire world. And this girl was stuck on the loss of a babysitter ?

“He was only eighteen,” she told me.

I blinked. “Wait. He? You had a boy babysitter?”

She nodded. “Zane. It was my birthday, but both my parents had to work late, so he came over to sit with me. He gave me a stuffed animal and told me I was his best friend. After I went to bed, he killed himself. In my kitchen.” Glancing back down at her hands, she mumbled, “I guess he didn’t want to be my friend anymore. ”

“Holy cow.” My eyes widened as I gaped at her, waiting for her to tell me she was just joking. But she didn’t.

And I decided, okay, maybe she had a right to be here after all.

“How’d he do it?” I wondered.

“Knife,” she said.

“Man.” I grimaced sympathetically. “Was there a lot of blood?”

Bobbing her head, she leaned my way and whispered, “I’m the one who found him. I got up to get a drink, and I tripped and fell in the blood.”

“Whoa,” I breathed, gaping at her and no longer wondering why she was so weird. If I’d found my babysitter dead and bloody in my house, I’d probably be ten times as batty as she was.

Reaching out, I took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “That sucks.”

She dropped her gaze to our clasped hands and frowned as if she didn’t approve. But a second later, her fingers squeezed back around mine. “Yeah. It sucks.”

A proud heat spread through my chest. Because the weird girl liked holding my hand. I felt as if I’d just conquered a whole planet on my own. All because this girl whose name I didn’t even know had squeezed back on my fingers, something I had a feeling she wouldn’t have done for just anyone.

I was special.

“What’s your na—?” I started to ask, but I was interrupted by a familiar voice calling my name.

“Keene! Hey, Keene.”

I zipped my face around, and when I saw a tall, skinny boy with a curly mop of brown hair, I immediately let go of the girl so I could shoot to my feet.

“Alec!” I shouted in delight and darted out of the circle of chairs to race to him as he hurried forward.

We met at the age sign and clapped hands before jostling our elbows against each other. Laughing, I looped my arm over his shoulders, making him stoop down so I could reach him, and I demanded, “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting forever .”

His gaze snagged on the crying boy in our circle, who was wailing for his mom now, and he grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I couldn’t find my shoes.” Skimming his attention over the rest of the kids, he pulled back in disgust. “So our group is full of all girls and a crybaby ?”

Letting go of his shoulders, I turned my attention to the chairs and realized another half a dozen had joined since I’d sat down, and yep, all the new arrivals were girls.

Alec and I would be outnumbered. Big time.

“Let’s go join that group?” he suggested, pointing to the right.

I glanced over and cringed. “But that group’s for ten-to-twelve-year-olds.”

“So?” He shrugged. “I’m tall enough to pass for ten, and you’re almost ten.”

“I won’t be ten for another eight months.”

“No one’s crying over there,” Alec added, lifting his eyebrows meaningfully.

This was true.

I shrugged and answered, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Except when I started that way, Alec grabbed my arm, already growing leery. “Wait. Will we get into trouble for it?”

I glanced back in dismay. “It was your idea to begin with.”

“Yeah, but—” He bit his lip and cringed. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

Feeling like we definitely had to go over there now, or we’d be wimps, I rolled my eyes and grabbed his arm. “Oh, come on.”

He followed with some resistance but not enough to stop me. The closer we got to the ten-to-twelve-year-olds, however, the more my own feet started to drag.

There were five of them in all. And every single one looked too cool for Alec and me. I was about to chicken out when one of the boys noticed us.

“Whoa… Hey!” He flagged us down with a single finger. “Don’t you two go to the same school as me?”

I straightened and cleared my throat before focusing on him. “Oh, yeah. Hi,” I said, realizing we did go to the same school. “You’re Hudson Ivey.”

“And you guys are in third grade,” Hudson snickered. “You belong over in that circle.”

“Oh, come on,” Alec wheedled, slinking closer to my side. “That group’s just awful. It’s full of girls and one other boy who won’t stop bawling for his mom.”

“Can’t we just join you five?” I added. “Please.”

“I mean…” Hudson only shrugged as if it made no difference to him. “It’s fine by me if no one else cares.”

“Go ahead and stay,” a boy on the other side of the circle said. He wore a green shirt and was the only black kid in this group. “We won’t rat you out.”

Alec exhaled deeply. “Cool. Thanks.”

And before we could even be seated, an adult man joined us, calling himself Matt. As Alec and I rushed to take our seats, Matt informed us he was going to be our group leader, all the while exclaiming his surprise about us being all boys.

But wait. All boys?

Crap. I’d forgotten about the weird girl.

I turned to find her over in the other circle. She was sitting in the same spot where I’d left her, and she was staring right at me as if I’d abandoned her.

Jerking my head to the side, I silently commanded her to come over here with us.

She only frowned in confusion.

Behind me, in my circle, the green-shirt kid was saying, “Good because Parker here hasn’t spoken a word out loud since his parents died.”

Wait. I whirled back to gape at the boy in the turtleneck who was supposedly mute.

Dude . I would totally flip out if I lost the ability to talk.

Talking was my thing.

While Counselor Matt assured everyone it was okay not to talk, I turned back toward the other group. When I saw the girl was still looking at me, I waved her over, inviting her to join us.

But she only scowled back and shook her head, refusing to budge.

She was probably one of those rule followers who always did what she was supposed to. Such a shame.

Behind me, the green-shirted guy had introduced himself as Thane Eisner and told us his mute friend was Parker Ohrley. And two seats over, some blond boy was claiming he was Foster Union and that he’d lost his brother.

I widened my eyes at the girl as if that would tempt her to change her mind. But she still didn’t move.

Next to me, Alec nudged my arm to get my attention and let me know it was my turn to share with the circle.

I whirled back to say, “Keene Dugger. My mom.” And then I checked on the girl again.

But her group had just begun, and everyone over there was being asked to stand. No longer paying attention to me, the girl rose to her feet and followed her own leader’s instructions.

I shrugged her off and turned back to focus on my people.

Alec and Hudson had already taken their turns, and the last boy was in the middle of telling us his name was Damien Archer.

So there we were. Thane, Parker, Foster, Keene, Alec, Hudson, and Damien. The seven.

From that point on, I became a part of their crew; I was one of them, and I never thought about the weird girl again.

Not for another eleven years, anyway.