2.

After sneaking away from the history classroom without speaking to Stuart, Timothy gathered books from his locker for his next class. His friend was angry, and Timothy knew he had every right to be. If their places were switched, he would have been just as upset.

After a moment, he decided it would be best to explain that it had been an accident. And if Stuart didn’t get it—well, too bad.

Something was happening in Timothy’s life that Stuart could not possibly understand, something his parents had made him promise to keep secret, a task he was finding more and more difficult with every passing day.

He’d just taken his hand out of the locker when the door slammed shut. Timothy leapt backward to find Stuart standing beside the locker, smiling strangely. After a few silent seconds, Timothy managed to say, “Hey, I’m really sorry about the whole partner thing. It was—”

“A little late for that now,” Stuart interrupted. “You could have said something to Mr. Crane during class.”

“I—I said I was sorry,” said Timothy. “We’ll be partners next time. Promise.”

“Fat Carla,” said Stuart, his eyes darkening. “How would you like to be working with Fat Carla?”

“I’d like it all right.” This was what he’d been afraid of.

“Liar.”

Timothy felt his face start to burn. “You’re kinda being unfair, don’t you think? It wasn’t my fault. Plus, during class, you kept saying how lame the project was going to be.”

“That’s ’cause it is going to be lame,” said Stuart. “But at least we would have been in it together.”

Something was bubbling deep inside Timothy. Something he’d wanted to say to Stuart for a while now. “Maybe it’ll be good to try something different.”

“Different? What do you mean—different?”

“Stuart,” Timothy whispered. “Sometimes you can be …”

“Be what?” Stuart’s smile finally dropped away.

“Not everything is lame. Not everyone is ugly and stupid. In fact, I think the field trip tomorrow might be fun. You’re always so … I just think … maybe it would be a good idea …”

“What would be a good idea?” Stuart’s voice hardened.

“To work with a different partner on this project,” said Timothy, clutching his math book. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Oh, that’s all you’re saying?”

“I gotta get to class.” Timothy started to back away, heading toward the math wing.

“You wanna talk about different?” said Stuart, following him. “You should know. You’ve been acting different ever since … I don’t know when.”

Timothy felt his face flush deeper. He knew why he’d been acting differently lately, but he hadn’t figured out a way to tell Stuart without breaking his promise to his parents. “Look, just forget it,” Timothy said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Whatever,” said Stuart, before turning around and walking away.

Timothy closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake away the horrible sensation in his head. But he didn’t have the energy to think about Stuart and all his stupid crap.

He was about to head into his math class when someone grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop. Abigail Tremens stood behind him, glaring with her deep brown eyes. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest.

“So … you think you’re, like … my boyfriend now?” she mumbled.

Timothy felt like she’d slapped his face. “Uh … no.”

“Good. ’Cause I don’t need a boy to rescue me or anything. I don’t need a boyfriend. I don’t need a friend. I don’t need anything. Okay? I’m fine by myself.”

“Mr. Crane said we all needed a partner. Now you have one. What’s the big deal?”

Abigail stared at him for another moment before saying, “Just stay away from me.”