It was a round table with four chairs, perfect for our little group. But halfway there, I stopped. Kristy and the twins were already at the table. They had spread their lunches everywhere so that there wasn't an inch of available space. Furthermore, they'd removed the fourth chair, or lent it to a crowded table, or something. It didn't matter what. The point was that they hadn't saved a place for me.

I watched my friends for a moment. Kristy was facing me. She was talking away a mile a minute and Mariah and Miranda were giggling.

Kristy glanced up and saw me. She began talking even more earnestly. Then she gestured for the twins to lean toward her, and she made a great show of whispering in their ears and laughing loudly.

I turned around.

Suddenly I felt like a new kid at school. I didn't know who else to sit with. Ever since middle school began, I'd been eating with Kristy, Mariah, and Miranda.

I knew that if Kristy were in my shoes, she'd just join some other group of kids, even if she didn't know them very well. But I'd die of

embarrassment first. I could never do that.

I walked around the cafeteria until I found an empty table. I plopped down in a chair and opened my lunchbag. Since I pack my own lunch, I never have to eat things I don't like, such as liverwurst sandwiches. On the other hand, there are never any surprises. Treats, yes; surprises, no.

I spread a paper napkin on the table and arranged my lunch on it: peanut butter sandwich, apple juice in a box, potato chips, banana. I looked it over and realized I wasn't hungry.

I was still staring at it when a voice next to me said, "Excuse me, could I sit here?"

I glanced up. Standing uncertainly by my side was a tall girl with the blondest hair I had ever seen. It was so pale it was almost white, and it hung, straight and silky, to her rear end.