5/17

Weird day that turned out upsetting, then we get to the really bad part…it actually started last night when I talked to Mom and Dad about Tessa Prince and her strange random thoughts. We were talking about the different things it might mean, when the conversation took a left turn and went straight to freaky.

Mom: So tell us one more time what Heather’s friend was thinking about.
Me: She was thinking about dropping her stuff, but kind of woven among those thoughts were thoughts about Heather. She was worried about Heather, but more nervous than sad. The weird things were “What am I going to do?”, “Heather said she’d call,” and “I hope Mr. Jackson knows what he’s doing.” You know, Heather’s dad didn’t seem to know anything when I saw him on TV.
Mom: What did you say? (she narrows her eyes, and Dad and I just look at her)
Me: I said, her dad didn’t seem to know anything on TV. He just looked upset about the whole thing. He was offering a reward for any information about it.
Mom: And Tessa thought about Mr. Jackson knowing what he’s doing. (she and Dad look at each other; Dad raises an eyebrow)
Me: Right. Like, what am I not getting here? (Mom and Dad both look like they know something I don’t and I start to get impatient) Mom, Dad, tell me.
Dad: Heather’s step dad is not Mr. Jackson.
Me? Huh? (my face registers my confusion)
Dad: Heather’s step dad is Jerry Fowler. Heather didn’t take his name when her mother married him last year. She kept her father’s name of Jackson. (he’s frowning and concentrating)
Me: So what does that mean? (I feel like I’m missing a puzzle piece somewhere)
Mom: It means that perhaps Heather hasn’t been kidnapped after all. It sounds like maybe she’s with her real father.

Well, we kept talking about it for a while trying to come up with reasons why Heather’s dad would take her and not tell anyone. Why she would keep in touch with her best friend but not her mom and step dad. Why Tessa Prince would keep such a big secret, when everyone is so worried about Heather. When I went to my room to get ready for bed, I kept thinking about it, and I decided that I just had to get more information. And I didn’t think I should say anything to Mom and Dad about it just yet either. I mean, they might tell me not to do anything and I didn’t want to hear “no” right now. And I knew just where I could find out more. At church.

This morning, our family had breakfast together, like we do every Sunday. Dad likes to get up early and cook a huge breakfast for the rest of us (and give Mom a break). It’s actually pretty good. His pancakes are awesome. Even Matt doesn’t mind getting up a half hour earlier to eat Dad’s pancakes. He’s still grouchy, but at least he’s quiet about it while he’s in pancake heaven. My favorite part is sneaking little bits of egg, sausage, and bacon to Tripp. He’s learned to sit quietly at my feet on Sundays (NOT an easy trick to learn for Tripp…Boxers are so hyper). It’s not gonna hurt him, it’s protein and he exercises it all off anyway when he goes for a run with Dad every morning. Mom and Dad were kind of quiet today, like they had stuff on their minds. I could read that in their faces without even touching them, and I knew exactly how they felt. I had a lot on my mind too.

I made sure I was dressed and ready to go to church on time so we wouldn’t be late. I have to have plenty of time to figure out just when to approach them…..Mr. And Mrs. Fowler, that is. We’ve gone to church with them since they moved to town. I guess I forgot to mention that before, about Heather and me. It’s a big church. A bunch of kids from Markham go there, including Sophie’s family (we have 15 just in our 7-8^th grade Bible class). Anyway, I was all nervous and keyed up, but I felt like a detective or something. I just knew I wanted to find out what was going on in their minds about this whole thing, and if they really didn’t know anything. The key was to act natural, and not make them suspect anything. I just figured I would go up and ask them about Heather. You know, if they had any new leads, and how they were doing. And just shake both their hands. Easy-peasy. I hoped.

Keeping an eye on the Fowlers turned out to be really easy, since I didn’t have to follow them in a black sedan or anything. I just made sure I sat a few rows back from them, where I could see them during the service. I didn’t think it made Sophie too suspicious, because we kind of move around a lot. We learned the hard way not to sit with the back row kids, and we don’t want to sit at the very front like some of the other kids do (for obvious reasons), so we just kind of….roam. There’s a couple of other girls that sit with us sometimes, but usually we sit with Sophie’s parents or mine if there’s room. If not, we just sit by ourselves. It’s pretty crowded on Sunday mornings though, so we just have to squeeze in somewhere. Anyway……..they mentioned Heather in the announcements and the man who led one of the prayers talked about her. It made my stomach feel fluttery with nerves all over again.

After church, I told Sophie I wanted to go talk to Heather’s mom to see how she was doing. Sophie gave me kind of a funny look, but said okay. We followed the Fowlers outside and caught up with them as they were headed to the parking lot. My heart was pounding as I touched Mrs. Fowler’s sleeve.

Me: Mrs. Fowler, Mr. Fowler? (I sounded breathless, like I was running to catch them….calm down! They stop and turn with a questioning look.)
Mrs. Fowler: Yes? Oh hello. Carly and Sophie, right? (slight smile. Mr. Fowler keeps his hold on her arm)
Me: Right, good memory. (I smile back as friendly as possible) Um, I was just wondering if the police have any new leads. We’re all worried about Heather.
Mrs. Fowler: That’s very sweet. No, we haven’t heard anything new. Still waiting and praying. (she glances at Mr. Fowler)
Sophie: We’re all praying for her too. And hoping for the best.
Mrs. Fowler: Thank you, Sophie. You girls are very nice.
Mr. Fowler: Thank you for your kind thoughts, girls. We need to get going, Sarah. (starts to turn and tugs on Mrs. Fowler’s arm)
Me: Uh, I just wanted you both to know that we’ll keep thinking about Heather and you. (I stick out my hand to Mrs. Fowler; She hesitates for a split second, glancing at Mr. Fowler again, then slowly reaches out and grasps it)

What sweet girls…where is my sweet girl right now…is she safe…is she alive…hold it together, Sarah…just hold it together….Heather, I’m here sweetie…where are you…ow Jerry, you’re hurting my arm…okay, I’m going…

Mr. Fowler: That’s very nice of you, thanks. We must be going now. (again pulls Mrs. Fowler’s arm…but I wasn’t giving up that easy)
Me: Wait! Mr. Fowler, if there is anything we can do, you know to help out, please just let us know. I know all the kids at school feel the same way. (I reach out one more time, to him, secretly willing him to take my hand…he acts like he’s going to ignore it, but Mrs. Fowler nudges him and he lets go of her arm and grasps my hand…I wish he hadn’t)

How do I tell about Mr. Fowler’s thoughts? I am almost 14, but I haven’t read as much anger in a person as him. No, anger is not strong enough. Rage. That man is full of rage…and something else. Something darker. I am grateful that our touch was very brief. There is something bad inside him. His actual thoughts were….Yeah, when I get my hands on that kid…she better be in real trouble or I will GIVE her trouble…Sarah, come with me NOW…leave us alone, little girl…why are you pestering us, can’t you see we’re in a hurry…Sarah, LET’S GO! NOW!…. I rarely hear someone yelling in their mind, but he was shouting. I’m surprised his face wasn’t turning red. What is wrong with him? That is one scary man…I’ll so bet animals steer clear of him. I know I’m going to.

There’s more, but I’ll have to finish later…Mom’s calling me for lunch.

Oh how she rocks in Keds and tube socks

And when the money comes in for the work I’ll do
I’ll pass almost every penny on to you

5/13

Gray walked by me at my locker today and nudged me with his arm. A friendly push. When I looked up to yell at whoever was shoving me, I saw that it was him and felt my face grin like a fool. He was walking away like he didn’t even notice me, then turned his head back and gave me an evil grin so gorgeous, my heart actually skipped a beat. Oh man, he is too cute. I’ll say it, I wish he was mine.

No, I haven’t talked to Mom yet, but I will, I will (Heather has been missing for a week – no new leads, just lots of theories at school). No, I haven’t started my career list yet either (I have a whole week for that). Hey, I’ve got stuff to do…lots of important stuff…like, uh, seeing if Gray is online. Ugh, he’s not.

5/14

I did finally talk to Mom about Tessa Prince’s thoughts today. After a short lecture on staying out of other people’s heads, and “you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?” she had me tell her three times exactly what Tessa was thinking. She said give her a little time to think about it and talk to Dad. I feel really relieved that I told her. Now, it’s like her problem, not mine. But I can’t help thinking about it. I think about Heather like all the time. If she was supposed to call Tessa, then at least she’s alive, right? I hope so. Of course, she obviously didn’t make that call, so who knows. I just wish I knew where she was, and if she’s okay. Hurry up, Mom.

5/15

Ten days of school left (last day, May 29)!!!!! Two measly little weeks! I can’t wait! The teachers are all trying to pound that last little bit of learning into our heads before they have to FREEEE us for the summer. Don’t they realize we’re already gone? Anything we “learn” now will be gone as soon as finals are over! The sad part is that in two weeks Gray will be gone for most of the summer…two whole months. Sophie, being Sophie, says I should just tell him that I like him…she’s nuts! No way am I going to tell him anything about how I feel. She thinks there’s a good chance that he likes me back… shhheyeah, right. I think we might be becoming friends, though, and that would be okay by me. Really though, why am I so excited about school being out? That just means yard work in the hot sticky heat all summer. Dad told me today that I get to start this Saturday, because business is really picking up…. oh joy. I just have to keep reminding myself…..new clothes, new shoes, new clothes, new shoes, new flip-flops, new tennies, new boots for fall…sigh. (still no list…..who cares!) Friday night, going to Sophie’s to hang out. Mom said I can sleep over. We’re going to watch reruns of “Project Runway” and make fun of the designers and their awful (sometimes) creations. Love Heidi Klum though! Maybe we’ll check to see who’s on Facebook too…you know, just to see.

5/16

Spent most of the day mowing grass. Too bad I’m not allergic. But I earned almost $50, so I guess I’ll live. The whole summer stretches before me, hot and sweaty. Ick. At least I have Sophie to suffer with me, although being a babysitter she gets to suffer in the air conditioning. Lucky! I don’t have to corral brats all day, so I suppose it’s a trade-off. The only nice thing is that taking a shower after a long hot day mowing or pulling weeds is like heaven in the summer (or going swimming, but not much time or chances for that). Mom’s calling…I’ll bet she and Dad are wanting to talk….I hope.

Overheard bits of conversations that I find amusing…

“Wait! Stop! I don’t have my foot yet!”

5/12

Saw Headcase today. I was actually looking forward to it, because I thought I might mention what I heard in Tessa Prince’s mind. I hadn’t decided when I went in to see her. We talked for a while and she asked if she might test me, to see for herself how well I can read people. I’m surprised it took her till the third visit! I said sure, why not, since it’s no secret with her. I asked how she wanted to do it, and she said she would just think of random objects, and I could just tell her what they were. Easy-peasy.

 Me: Okay, give me your hand. (I don’t know how she will react. I’ve never done this on purpose with anyone, except with my family…Matt thinks it’s hilarious that I can’t read him…I’ll bet he’s relieved too that I don’t know what goes on in that twisted brain of his)
Headcase: Whenever you’re ready. (we sit in chairs opposite each other, leaning in a little, her left hand in my right. I have no idea what she expected. It’s not like I have to close my eyes and concentrate or anything, like those big fakes on reality shows. It’s much more like Allison Dubois. It comes to me like I have a radio in my head wired straight to their brains, whether I want it or not…sometimes with video too, if the connection is strong…only no dreaming)
Me: Um…there’s a lot going on in there. Maybe you could try to concentrate on just one thing at a time. Either picture something or say one word at a time in your mind.
Headcase: Uh, okay. (looks a little skeptical…I don’t blame her)
Me: House…shoe…elephant…telephone…ice cream cone…Corvette…Taj Mahal…Pacific Ocean…tree…sun…moon…hand…music, computer, book, fire extinguisher, desk…wow…how is she doing this…this is unbelievable…okay, you can stop now…..(jerks her hand out of mine)
Headcase: Yes, you can stop now (looks a little pale)
Me: Oh sorry. I was on a roll. Are you okay? (I reach toward her and she draws back, then catches herself and tries to control the shaken look on her face) Can I get you a drink of water or something?
Headcase: No, no. That’s okay. Wow, you have an amazing talent. (still looking a little off-color)
Me: Actually, there was a lot more stuff that I was filtering out. I pretty much hear it all.
Headcase: Like what? (she doesn’t look like she really wants to know)
Me: Like, you lost your car keys this morning and had to use a spare which really bugs you. You had a fight with your husband and you’re still mad about it. Your son, Jason, didn’t do his homework, and you’re afraid he’s not going to get into a good college. Is that enough? There’s more, but you might not want me saying it out loud. (she really wouldn’t)
Headcase: Yes, that’s plenty. Wow. (she leans back in her chair and takes a deep breath) Okay, I get it. I see why your parents wanted you to be able to talk to someone. That must be a very heavy burden for a 13-year-old.
Me: You have no idea. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m just glad you’re getting a clue. Maybe you can help me, but I kind of doubt it.
Headcase: Oh, I’m pretty sure I can help you. But it will take some time, because you and I have to learn to trust each other. Will you try? (she smiles encouragingly)
Me: (I shrug) Yeah, I’ll try. I really would like to have someone I can talk to about all this, besides my parents. Somebody not so close to me. Somebody that won’t worry about me so much.
Headcase: Well, the first thing we have to work on is how you view your gift. I can tell you see it as a curse.
Me: I just want to be a normal teenager. Is that too much to ask?
Headcase: We have to try to see things as they are, not as we wish they could be. Just keep using the “gift” when you write about it or talk about it. Believe me, it can help turn your attitude in a differnet direction. It’s a start anyway.
Me: Fine. (seems stupid, but whatevs)

Then Headcase gave me an assignment for the week…oh boy. I’m supposed to make a list of careers I might like to pursue, where I could use my “gift”. I didn’t tell her about the the list in my head, the one where all the jobs wear gloves. Oh, I thought of a new one. I could be a beauty queen, they wear those long white gloves don’t they? Oh wait….NOT. I have no beauty (oh yeah, you have to have a talent too). I’m not queenly, and yes, you have to be VERY tall. Wow, that’s so not going to happen in this lifetime. What was the other one I thought? Doctor! They always put on those latex gloves to touch people to keep from getting all the diseases they have to diagnose. Maybe not. I don’t really want people coughing and sneezing and puking all over me…so that lets out nurse too. (but wait, if I was a doctor or nurse I could use my “ability”…I wouldn’t have to ask where it hurts, because all I’d have to do is touch them to know! AND know how bad it hurts too!). Maybe that should go on both lists…

Anyway! I didn’t ask Headcase about Heather, but I did ask her what she thought about reading people’s minds for information. About reading people when they don’t know it…the privacy thing. I kind of wanted to test her to see if she thought the same way my parents and I did. She does. She said that I was right to be careful in using my talent, and that it would not be a good habit to go around reading people for my own amusement, or simply out of curiosity. That wouldn’t be good for me or my relationships with other people. She didn’t know it, but she got a little more of that trust she was talking about….

But, as far as Heather goes, I had done just that…read someone out of curiosity. And I got more information than I bargained for. I’ll just have to talk to Mom. She’ll know what to do…I hope.

If you took it there
First of all
Let me say

5/11

I’m not sure what I should do. Should I talk to my parents? Headcase? I don’t think I can just ignore it. That’s what I should have done in the first place…mind my own business and NOT watch other people. That’s gonna get me in big trouble one of these days. Okay, let me see if I can work this out. I was sitting on a bench in the quad this morning before the first bell, just staring off into space like I sometimes do, letting the conversations around me just kind of wash over me. I was thinking about Heather Jackson and listening to the latest gossip, and people arguing over what they think has happened to her. The current theory going around is that she ran off with a high school boy that her parents wouldn’t let her date…her step dad is really strict and says she can’t date until she’s eighteen (that much is true, everybody knows it). Before, it was some serial killer that had dismembered her and mailed the parts all over the country. At least this one’s not gory. Middle school girls would rather dream that it’s something romantic…very Romeo and Juliet.

Anyway, I started glancing around the quad (yes, sort of looking for Gray…okay, more than sort of), and I happened to see Heather’s group sitting not too far away. I found myself watching them, really just to see how they were holding up under the pressure (I know it’s still bothering me, and I’m not even close to her), and I noticed something odd, at least it seemed odd to me. All of them seemed about the same, a little down, but not as much as before…that’s the way it is, as time goes on you just get on with it. You can’t stay totally depressed and stressed every minute. But Heather’s BFF, Tessa Prince, didn’t look depressed. She didn’t look sad…she looked nervous. Seriously, she looked scared and you know, twitchy. Totally not the kind of mood I expected to see from her right now. It was just out of place. So…here’s where I should have minded my own business, like I said…but I got curious. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know what was making her act scared and twitchy. No one else seemed to notice. They probably thought she was just nervous wondering where Heather was. It didn’t seem like that kind of nervous to me. She wasn’t really talking to any of them, she kept her eyes down mostly pretending to study, and when she did look up, she kind of looked….I don’t know….guilty about something…shifty-eyed (I know, that sounds like an old movie, but that’s the word that comes to mind).

I sat there, trying not to be too obvious about watching Tessa, when Sophie elbowed me for ignoring her. She asked what I was looking at, and I said I was just looking at nothing in particular, thinking. Since I do that a lot, Sophie didn’t question it, just told me to come back to earth. I tried to pay better attention to the conversation, but I kept glancing back over at Tessa. I started wondering if there was a way I could “accidentally” touch her in the hall or something. We only have one class together, where we sit on opposite sides of the room, and like I said before, I’m not really friends with Heather’s group. It would have to seem totally random. Lucky for me, Markham Middle School isn’t very big, and all the eighth graders have most of our classes along one long hallway, so I would have plenty of opportunities.

This still presented a real puzzle, especially since I have spent the last 8+ years making sure I don’t touch people as much as possible, without being too obvious about it. My own circle of friends is okay, because I know all of them and their thoughts are mostly predictable. I don’t have to be on my guard so much with them. But everyone else…..let’s just say, I don’t wear tank tops to school (seems silly but the less skin available, the better), and I have little tricks to keep the contact to a minimum…like NOT rushing out into the hall when the bell rings and everyone else is rushing out into the hall, pushing and shoving their way to the next class. I make it a point to linger in class until closer to the next bell, when the crowd has thinned out a little. Stuff like that. It has become an automatic habit to avoid touching.

So thinking of a way to touch Tessa Prince is really thinking outside the box for me. Since we were both wearing long sleeves today, I couldn’t just brush up against her in the hall (you might know…the one time that might come in handy). I decided the easiest way would be to follow her into the bathroom and pretend to reach for a paper towel at the same time as her. The trouble with that plan was that she didn’t go in the bathroom all day! I don’t know how she holds it! The girl has got to have a seriously oversized bladder. I thought I might be able to catch her at the drinking fountain, but she must be part camel too, because she didn’t go near any water either. Of course, I wasn’t near her every minute…she might have gone during class. Anyway, I was beginning to think that touching a person was a lot harder than I thought, when an opportunity just fell at my feet…literally. I was leaning against a wall by the water fountain right before my last class, hoping she might decide she was thirsty at the last second, and she started walking my way. Right when she got close, she dropped her book bag right in front of me and several things spilled out! Cool! I immediately bent down to pick up a book that skidded to a stop at my feet, and as I handed it to her I made sure my fingertips covered hers, and I didn’t let go until I was “sure” she had a good hold on the book…subtle of course!

It always amazes me how many thoughts can run through a person’s mind in just a few seconds, especially when that mind is racing. And Tessa Prince’s mind was going 90 miles an hour. I am such a klutz…I hope someone doesn’t kick something down the hall….did I lose my lip gloss …what am I doing to do…it that my math paper over there…Heather said she’d call…I’m going to be late for class…I should have eaten something at lunch…I’m so hungry…I hope Mr. Jackson knows what he’s doing…where’s my book…oh, Carly…thanks…

Tessa: Oh, Carly…thanks. (glances at my face briefly)
Me: No problem. Did you get everything? (watching her to see if I can tell anything)
Tessa: I think so. Man, that was graceful. (looking in her book bag)
Me: Well, I better get to class.(trying to think of something to ask her and failing)
Tessa: Yeah, me too. Thanks again. (hurries off)

Okay, WHAT??? She is expecting a call from Heather? But Heather must not have done it, which is why she’s so nervous. And what is that about Mr. Jackson? How could he know anything? He seemed really upset in that TV interview. Could he be faking? Why? And does her mom know? What is going on? I’ve been going back through it over and over all afternoon. It really doesn’t make sense, but I know one thing. Something weird is definitely going on here. Maybe I should tell Mom…

I don’t want to sit across the table from you wishing I could run

5/9

Okay, so I talked to Gray online last night for like two whole hours! Just the two of us. I can’t believe 1) he didn’t have anything better to do than talk to me most of the night, and 2) that he wanted to talk to me for most of the night. But that’s the way it seemed; he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get off. He’s so funny, even in writing! We talked about all kinds of stuff, like his little brother and my older brother, the fact that he has a sister and I don’t and wish I did, what he wants to be when he finishes school (he hasn’t decided if he wants to go to college, but he really wants to be a firefighter), the fact that I have no idea what I want to be (I did NOT tell him about wanting a job wearing gloves…I don’t want him to think I’m a total freak!), our parents and how overprotective they can be, just nothing and everything. Since we talked for so long, I won’t include it all, but I cut and pasted some of the more important parts. Oh, I made my ID “CBpsych”, so it’s close to what I am, but you could take it as “psycho” or “Psych!”…not psychic…I mean, who would guess that, right? Anyway…

GWdrum: Hey!
CBpsych: Hey!
GWdrum: What’s going on in your world?
CBpsych: Absolutely NADA! How about you?
GWdrum: Same here. I’m going out of my skull! Friday night and nothing to do.
CBpsych: Me too. Sophie’s out of town for the weekend, and it seems like everybody else is too busy.
GWdrum: Yeah, I hear ya. Jon had to go spend the evening with his family at his grandparents’ house. He was really looking forward to it, too. So how did you do on the BIG TEST?
CBpsych: I think I did pretty good, probably a high B. You?
GWdrum: I thought it was way easy. But then I studied really hard for it, since Mr. Decker built it up so much. I thought it was going to be a killer, but it was hardly even maiming.
Cbpsych: LOL, yeah it wasn’t quite the trauma I was worried about. I hope the final isn’t any worse, though.
GWdrum: Well, he said it wasn’t going to cover everything, just the last couple of chapters, so that won’t be too bad.

Blah, blah, blah…then, later…

GWdrum: What are you going to do this summer?
CBpsych: Work for my dad…:p
GWdrum: Ah, mowing lawns all summer, huh?
CBpsych: Oh yeah, I forgot he does houses in your neighborhood.
GWdrum: Yeah, I think he’s going to do our house this summer, since our family will be gone a lot. Don’t you like mowing lawns?
CBpsych: You have GOT to be kidding me. Sometimes I wish my dad did ANYTHING besides own a lawn maintenance company. It’s so hot and sweaty all summer. I’m telling you, as soon as I turn 16, it’s ADIOS lawnmowers, HOLA! air-conditioned mall job…any job.
GWdrum: LOL. Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel about it!
CBpsych: Whatever. At least I get to work and earn money for shoes! That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. So what are you doing this summer?
GWdrum: I have an uncle who owns a big ranch in Montana. I get to go work for him this summer. I’m pretty stoked about it.
CBpsych: OH! Wow…with cows and everything?
GWdrum: Thousands. Lots of horses too.
CBpsych: So…you’re gonna be a cowboy. Do you even know how to do that????
GWdrum: I have gone to visit Uncle Rick every summer for at least a few weeks, for as long as I can remember, so I learned to ride and do lots of the stuff they do. But this will be my first time to go all summer and get paid like a real “ranch hand”. Usually, he won’t hire anyone under 16, but since I’ve been there a lot and I’ll be 15 in the fall, he decided to make an exception.
CBpsych: Wow, that’s really cool. All summer, huh?
GWdrum: Yep. I’ll earn quite a bit of cash. I’m saving for a car. It’ll take two summers to get a decent one.
CBpsych: Nifty! So when do you leave?
GWdrum: The day after school is out. And I’ll get back just in time for freshman band camp. I’d really like to make marching band this fall, even though it’s not likely as a freshman. Are you going to try out?
CBpsych: I don’t know…I haven’t given it much thought.
GWdrum: You should! We’d have such a blast!
CBpsych: Maybe…I don’t think I’m good enough anyway.
GWdrum: Come off it, Carly. I’ve heard you in one of the practice rooms. You could be first chair now, if you challenged at all.
CBpsych: :p Yeah, right. Anyway…tell me more about your uncle’s ranch.

More blah, blah, yada, yada…..

I am so bummed that Gray will be gone all summer. How dreary. I don’t even have running into him at the mall or Wallyworld to look forward to. Sigh… And I am soooooo not trying out for marching band. I’ve heard they treat freshmen like complete losers, who knows how they would treat a shrimpy little geekette. Gray will have lots of fun without me. I’m sure he doesn’t really care whether I do that or not, he was just being nice. But I can still dream…….he talked to me like he at least likes me as a friend. For now, that makes me float around the house for the rest of the weekend.