"Sure," I said, waving my hand at all the empty chairs.

She sat down with a sigh, placing a tray in front of her. I looked at her lunch and decided I was glad I had brought mine. I knew Stacey and Claudia think Kristy and I are babies because we still bring our lunches to school, but the macaroni casserole on the girl's tray looked really disgusting. And it was sur-

rounded by mushy, bright orange carrots, a limp salad, and a roll that you'd need a chain saw to slice.

The girl smiled shyly at me. "You must be new, too," she said.

"New?" I blushed. Why else would I be sitting alone? "Oh," I stammered, "um, no. It's just — my friends are all... absent today."

"Oh." The girl sounded disappointed.

"Are — are you new?" I asked after a moment.

She nodded. "This is my second day here. Nobody ever wants the new kid to sit at their table. And I feel embarrassed sitting alone. I thought I'd found the perfect solution —'another new kid."

I smiled. "Well, I don't mind if you sit with me. Even if I'm not new."

The girl smiled back. She wasn't exactly pretty, I decided, but she was pleasant, which was more important. Especially considering three unpleasant people I could think of.

"My name's Dawn," she said. "Dawn Schafer."

"Dawn," I repeated. "That's such a pretty name. I'm Mary Anne Spier."

"Hi, Mary Anne Spier." Dawn's blue eyes, which were almost as pale as her hair, sparkled happily.

"Did you just move here?" I asked. "Or did you switch schools or something?"

"Just moved here," she replied. "Last week." She began to eat slowly and methodically, taking first a bite of macaroni stuff, then a bite of carrots, then a bite of salad. She worked her way around the plate in a circle. "Our house is still a mess," she went on. "Packing cartons everywhere. Yesterday it took me twenty minutes to find my brother for dinner."