give the girl a sarcastic thumbs-

t like the c-word. I push past her and make my wa

o perfect after The Incident. By the end of th

rvive t

I

sing a hand to her full bosom. "I'm Principal Cooprider. It's a p

ew student luncheon. Everyone else seated at the long tables is a pimply-faced freshman,

w the fresh meat on

hletic director, theater coordinator, blah blah blah. I don't plan on participating in any of this stuff. M

Lord, when the auditorium doors behind us burst open

to see his face, I realize that

t about every dollar that's gone to the Ravenlake Prep budget. In fact, he's respon

eally looks the part. Arrogant smile, slicked-back dark hair that bears a single gray streak raci

ketch this exact man. He is a stereotype if I

ver themselves to pay homage to Mr. Foster,

said about me in the

e op-ed, he wrote: "Lily DeVry is nothing more than a reckless young girl with a wild imagination and a

s about me, but publicly and baselessly s

dents. Dr. Sharon, the therapist I started going to after The Incident, told me to picture my

y drop, until I can unclenc

ach and every person here. I think it is meant to be a sign of warmth and ki

it still and meet his gaze straight on. If he recognizes me, he doesn't show it. He gives me

s. He has a voice for the pulpit. It carries. And though the whole town seems to worship at his feet, Mr. Foster boasts

lks through the doors of this school. As a business

ing joke. The administration chuckles immediately. The fres

't know if it's the creepy stone architecture or Mr. Fos

one of the freshmen seated around me give a shit. Then I take off,

thought getting away from everyone wou

nding Dr. Sharon technique: naming as many colors as I can unti

A memory is comi

ll around me. I'm

missed a turn somewhere, and now I'm not sure if I'm running ba

of my own breathing and the crunc

a girl's pained whi

supposed to

t of my memory. I g

looks like something out of a dream-or a nightmare. A single beam o

ows slant over his deep-set eyes. Dark hair is buzzed close on the sides, but left longer on to

kingly b

nd a black bomber jacket, and his timeless st

is boy can

body is buzzing with electricity. Like

inally gasp. My voice s

sement or disgust, I can't tell. "Your

t not positive. Everything about

my mouth. It's a lame answer, but it's the best I can do under the

ly. "You're

nose. "Someth

like that

at would normally piss me off. Instead, it j