"Oh my gosh, what if shedropped out?" Liz cranked up the worry in her voice. "Did she get kickedout?"

"Why would you thinkthat?"

"Well…" she said,stumbling over the obvious, "Bex always has been kind of rules-optional"Liz shrugged, and, sadly, I couldn't disagree. "And why else would shebe late? Gallagher Girls are never late! Cammie, you know something, don't you?You've got to know something."

Times like this are when it'sno fun being the headmistress's daughter, because A) it's totally annoying whenpeople think I'm in a loop I'm not in, and B) people always assume I'm inpartnership with the staff, which really I'm not- Sure, I have private dinnerswith my mom on Sunday nights, and sometimes she leaves me alone in heroffice for five seconds, but that's it. Whenever school is in session, I'm justanother Gallagher Girl (except for being the girl to whom the aforementioned Aand B apply).

I looked back down at thefront doors, then turned to Liz. "I bet she's just late," I said,praying that there would be a pop quiz over supper (nothing distracts Lizfaster than a pop quiz).

As we approached the massive,open doors of the Grand Hall, where Gilly Gallagher supposedly poisoned a manat her own cotillion, I involuntarily glanced up at the electronic screen thatread "English—American" eventhough I knew we always talk in our own language and accents for thewelcome-back dinner. Our mealtime conversations wouldn't be taking place in"Chinese—Mandarin" for at least a week, I hoped.

We settled at our usual tablein the Grand Hall, and I finally felt at home. Of course, I'd actually beenback for three weeks, but my only company had been the newbies and the staff.The only thing worse than being the only upper' classman in a mansion full ofseventh graders is hanging out in the teachers' lounge watching your AncientLanguages professor put drops in the ears of the world's foremost authority ondata encryption while he swears he'll never go scuba diving again. (Ew, mentalpicture of Mr. Mosckowitz in a wet suit! Gross!)