That day, though, I didn't feel normal. I spent the morning thinking about that boy on the street. There were plenty of logical explanations. I'd been staring at his lunch box, so I'd misjudged where he'd been running. He'd jumped into a waiting car at the curb. Or swerved at the last second and vanished into the crowd.

That made perfect sense. So why did it still bug me?

* * *

"Oh, come on," Miranda said as I rooted through my locker at lunchtime. "He's right there. Ask him if he's going to the dance. How tough can that be?"

''Leave her alone," Beth said. She reached over my shoulder, grabbed my bright yellow lunch bag from the top shelf, and dangled it. "Don't know how you can miss this, Chloe. It's practically neon."

"She needs a stepladder to see that high," Kari said.

1 banged her with my hip, and she bounced away, laughing.

Beth rolled her eyes. "Come on, people, or we'll never get a table."

We made it as far as Brent's locker before Miranda elbowed me. "Ask him, Chloe."

She mock-whispered it. Brent glanced over . . . then quickly looked away. My face heated and I clutched my lunch bag to my chest.

Kari's long, dark hair brushed my shoulder. "He's a jerk," she whispered. "Ignore him."

"No, he's not a jerk. He just doesn't like me. Can't help that."

"Here," Miranda said. "I'll ask him for you."

"No!" I grabbed her arm. "P-please."

Her round face screwed up in disgust. "God, you can be such a baby. You're fifteen, Chloe. You have to take matters into your own hands."

"Like phoning a guy until his mother tells you to leave him alone?" Kari said.

Miranda only shrugged. "That's Rob's mother. He never said it."

"Yeah? You just keep telling yourself that."

That set them off for real. Normally, I'd have jumped in and made them quit, but I was still upset over Miranda's embarrassing me in front of Brent.