Chapter 8
Anne covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stop what had to be her hundredth yawn this afternoon. Her watering eyes blurred the drawing of one of the blue-ridged mountains Evan constantly talked about after his visits to Virginia. The sharp colorful pencil lines morphed into a shimmering watercolor, then back.
The thick crust pizza the teachers had brought in for lunch sat heavily in her belly. Anne was afraid she’d start burping up pepperoni even worse than her smelly garlic breath any second now.
Evan sat next to her, his elbow occasionally brushing against hers. He hated drawing, and at thirteen he was two years older than everyone else in the class. Every time she glanced at him, he was scowling and chewing his lip.
Knowing he was only there because of her stirred up
