Chapter 15
Despite Tory’s pep talk, I walk into my first round in a daze. I sink into my seat and turn my mind toward Jane Eyre. Or try to. Behind me comes a snicker. I swivel in my seat, just slightly, and catch sight of a Winnetka girl. She’s never done prose before, I’m sure of it. This must be part of the Big 9 shake up before sub-sectionals.
“Lose something?” she says in a voice both too quiet and too mean for a whisper.
I pretend not to hear and jerk toward the front of the classroom.
Bottled up tears touch the corners of my eyes. A wrong word, a wrong look, a wrong thought will send me over the edge, I’m sure of it. With Tory, I was okay. Here alone, I feel empty, betrayed, friendless.
I am Jane on her stool.
Even as I ache, I can’t stop the other thoughts, the ones that tell
