With Justin gone, I tried to zone out school as much as possible, and the rest of the 9th grade just sort of came and went.

  Mom and ‘New-Dad’ were anxious to get away, excited about hopping the globe on the company jet. Nora hardly noticed turning sixteen, but as the summer drew near, more often than not, I’d see a smile on her face. Most of the time it was hidden under a sneer, but it was there.

  It felt odd, but good, how much her summer plans revolved around us sticking together, comforting that whatever happened, she’d be there. She seemed bolder too, if that was possible, and more relaxed.

  She’d even talked me into taking a train up the coast rather than have Mom or ‘New-Dad’ drop us off, and though nervous about them being out of the country, leaving us on our own by the second day on the train, I agreed.

  As much as I wanted to get onboard with 19th century life, I wasn’t sure I’d actually like it. So, just as a contingency, I packed lots and lots of video games, a laptop, a tablet, and a hand-held Mr. Grant had given me for Christmas. But… Nora did stop me with a glare when I asked if she had extra room in her suitcase for a flat panel TV to hook up to my Xbox.

  ???

  On the train, we had a private compartment. Nothing too fancy, just a couch that converted into a bunk bed at night, and while Nora read, I’d gaze out onto the scenery, mesmerized as the ocean rolled by, before giving way to desert, then to coastal towns, green hills, and eventually forested mountains.

  I was watching a show on my phone when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “We get there in half an hour. Haven’t you opened your packet yet?” Nora asked, her left eye twitching ever so slightly.

  Feeling lazy from the rock of the train, I shrugged it off. “Why? Yours has all the information.”

  “Fine, if you won’t… I will.” She reached across to my bag and pulled out the envelope.

  “Welcome to the Galeton School of Intrigue. Dear Miss Harper Watson… Wait a minute. That can’t be right…

  My ears popped as I bolted upright, and we looked at each other for a long moment. The first moment, in fact, I ever saw Nora with the sneer completely wiped from her face. She looked stunned.

  “Miss??!” I coughed.

  It only took a minute of searching the web to find out that ‘The Galeton School of Intrigue’ had stopped accepting boys two years ago. Apparently, a boy had ‘accidently’ started a fire in the basement, and it had never been all that popular with boys in the first place, so they decided to suspend their ‘male experience’ until they could rework it.

  “Crap…” I said, reaching for my phone.

  “What are you doing?” Nora looked at me sideways.

  “Calling my Mom?!”

  She grabbed my arm. “Please… Please don’t. Just give me a chance to think… I’m not ready to be responsible for ruining everyone’s summer just yet.”

  “You?” I asked, “What about me?”

  “Well… I should have… I mean I told you I’d take care of the arrangements.”

  “So, what now?!” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Let me think…”

  While she frantically looked things up online, I thought about what was going to happen: Mom and ‘New-Dad’ would act responsibly. And Mom, no doubt, would end up flying right back to the States to sort this all out. She’d tell me that I’m more important to her than any trip, and then we’d all spend the rest of the summer sighing, and telling each other it was for the best. And all the while, Mr. Grant would be out seeing the world without her…

  And I really should have opened my packet before then. I started looking over the papers.

  “Hey, Nora…”

  “Yeah?”

  “How could they not realize I’m a guy? You sent them a photo, didn't you?”

  “Yeah, that one of us together… oh,” she shuddered, “with your hair down.” I usually kept it in a ponytail.

  She brought the picture up on her phone. “You do kind of look like a…” she trailed off.

  I looked over the forms. “They don’t even have a box for gender.” I huffed.

  “Harper?” Nora’s left eyebrow was creeping so far up it looked painful. “Why do they have measurements for your bust size?”

  After a few more frantic minutes, we figured out that all of my ‘girl’ measurements were exact duplicates of Nora’s. I guessed that somehow the web form had cached all of her data and auto-completed mine with them when she left them blank.

  “Any ideas yet?” I asked.

  “Other than trying to pass you off as a girl?...” she said with a sigh.

  I winced at that, thinking of my bullies' jeers of ‘she man,’ and as Nora saw my face, she shook her head, dismissing the idea.

  “We can always spend the summer with Aunt Agnus…” she added.

  I groaned. “She’s as boring as… as… Well, hanging around with her is kind of like sitting in church all day. But, ahh… Sure, dump me off…”

  “I said ‘we.’ I’d go too.” Her expression fell as she looked me in the eye. “I can’t enjoy my summer if you’re spending yours… helping her knit.”

  “Any other ideas?” I asked.

  “I think it’s best just to come clean and tell the school. The Headmistress, Ms. Windsor, seemed pretty cool when I emailed her. They only recently made it all-girls, so maybe we could talk her into making an exception, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Well, when they separated the school, they opened a boy’s camp… a wilderness survival school… and it’s not exactly ‘highly-rated,’” she squeaked out, yet another first for her.

  “What does ‘not exactly highly-rated’ mean?”

  “Ummm… Two stars? They might send you there.”

  “Ah… maybe I—could—pass for a girl?” I said as a joke while my stomach twisted into knots.

  “Ha…” She sighed. “No time.” And then the train rolled into the station.

  The school had a shuttle waiting, and the driver didn’t notice anything ‘unusual’ about me. Nor did any of the other three girls already in the van.

  The only two open seats weren’t next to each other, so we had to split up. I sat in the middle row, next to a red-haired girl while Nora sat just ahead, next to a mousy girl with dark hair.

  The red-haired girl was silently brooding about something. “So, are you a lesbian?” she huffed in a whisper after we’d been on the road for a few minutes.

  “What? No,” I said, cringing. Surely, she must have known exactly what I was as soon as she heard my voice.

  “You look like one. Actually, you look like a boy. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “You’d be the first,” I said.

  “But you must get that. You dress like one,” she said, looking me over.

  “Actually, most people inform me that I look like a girl.” I moaned.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Because I am,” my voice cracked as my face turned red.

  “Wait you’re a?...”

  “A boy,” I said, slouching in my seat.

  “Boys aren’t allowed. This is supposed to be a safe space,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  “Don’t worry, I don’t expect to be staying,” I said.

  Her face kept shifting, like she was looking for just the right insult, until finally, her mouth opened. “Good, well Christie should be happy about that, at least there’s someone here even more pathetic than her…”

  “Who’s Christie?” I asked.

  The mousy, dark-skinned girl turned around. “I am.”

  “She actually wants to be here.” The redhead scoffed. “She doesn’t get how lame this is.”

  Nora turned around and glared at her.

  “Oh… you’re the lesbian,” the redhead said.

  “You got a name?” Nora growled between clenched teeth.

  “You first…” the girl rebutted.

  “I’m Nora, and that’s my brother Harper.”

  “Ha, that’s a girl’s name.”

  Nora looked at me then pointed to the girl. “Not worth it.” She grumbled, turning back around.

  “I’m Victoria by the way… thanks for asking,” the redhead said, then turned her attention to the last girl in the van, a short blonde, sitting all the way in back, who’d been keeping to herself.

  “And you are?” Victoria asked, but got no reply.

  She reached back and tapped the girl on the shoulder, “And you are…?”

  “—Reading, shush.” The blonde held up a finger. Her accent was British, though mixed with something.

  “Hey! What are you reading?” Victoria pressed.

  The girl held her book up. I only saw it for a moment, but it was full of math equations and electrical diagrams.

  “Oh great, a nerd,” Victoria kept pressing, “Why on earth are you reading that?”

  “I’ve been working out how to make something, but now, I suppose, I’m going to have to stop to make something else instead,” The blonde said.

  “And what’s that?”

  “An off switch for you, either that or a friend because you seem to be working very hard at alienating everyone you’re going to be spending the summer with.”

  “If you must know—” Victoria started.

  “—I mustn’t, and I don’t care. You’ve broken my concentration. I’ve lost track of my equations, and I’ll have to start over, so…” The blonde sighed. “I might as well talk to someone. You there, boy.”

  “Me?” I asked.

  “Harper, right? You’re in an interesting situation. How’d it happen?”

  “Um, the school used to take boys. We saw an old blog post where they did, and I didn’t see anything on the application about it.”

  “Seems reasonable,” she said. “I hope they let you stay.”

  The blonde turned back to Victoria. “See, that wasn’t so hard, making a friend, was it? Now, you try.”

  “He’s going to have to leave. You’re wasting your time,” Victoria crossed her arms, stewing.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “So, what’s your name?” Christie asked the blonde girl.

  “Wilhelmina Manor.”

  “Like Miss Manners?”

  “No one has ever called me that…” She snorted. “Not with a straight face.”

  There was a loud thump, and the van started shaking.

  “A tire blew,” the driver yelled back, and the van slowed as the sound of limp rubber buffeting against concrete came from underneath. We pulled over and stopped on a grassy shoulder.

  The driver muttered into his phone, then announced, “It’ll take half an hour to get the spare on. Just stay out of the way.” He looked us over, and noticing Nora’s height, pointed at her. “Except you. You help.”

  We got out and stretched. The road was two lanes, walled-in on both sides by trees and twisting just enough, so we couldn’t see more than half a mile ahead or behind.

  I felt sick.

  “What’s wrong?” Christie asked.

  “All this waiting. If I’m going to get in trouble, I’d rather get it over with,” I said.

  “Hey, take a look at this!” Victoria called from across the road.

  As the driver ratcheted up the van and Nora handed him tools, everyone else made their way over to where Victoria was standing.

  “Just on the other side of the trees,” she said before leading us back a short ways.

  And then we saw it. The trees stopped, and the world fell away.

  The sides of the pit were cut granite. It must have been a thousand feet across. It was flooded, and the water line lay about twenty feet below.

  “That’s old quarry lake,” Christie said. “Galeton was a mining town way back.”

  In the murky depths, two great ridges of rock spiraled downward, twisting around one another, like the spinal columns of long dead beasts.

  “It’s creepy,” Victoria shuddered.

  Christie added, “You can thank the quarry for all the stone buildings in Galeton. They closed it down after World War One, diverted the river and flooded the whole thing, turning it into a lake.”

  “Why would they have to do that?” Wilhelmina asked.

  “The river runs right by it. They had to dam it up to keep the mines dry.”

  “You know your history.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  Though the sun was growing dim, across the lake, an orange plastic fence was visible with a small earth mover sitting behind it, still and empty.

  I pointed. “Looks like they’re doing construction?”

  A rustle came from behind as the driver popped out of the trees. “Could you all wait closer to the van, please.” With a stern look on his face, he wasn’t asking.

  ???

  The streetlights flickered with the warm glow of gaslight as the van’s wheels chattered down a cobblestone road. A block farther, we came to a stop outside a walled estate.

  We stepped down from the van and were greeted by a young woman in her mid-twenties who hurried us inside the main house. Evidently, we were late.

  Nora took the woman aside and whispered to her, pointing to me. When I waved back, trying to look meek and not too guilty, the young woman took my hand and led us to a side room. She knocked on a door.

  “Yes,” a confident female voice answered, and we were shown through.

  A middle-aged woman with dark curly hair, wearing a fancy brown period dress and a cheery smile, greeted us.

  “What’s all this then? How can I be of help?”

  Nora stepped forward. “There’s been a bit of a mix-up... It’s all my fault.”

  “Guilty of something already?” She glanced at the wall clock. “That’s a new record.” The woman seemed amused, not angry. “Well, introductions first, so I know whom I am punishing. I am Ms. Windsor, or Deidre to people who aren’t in trouble. And you are?”

  “Nora Grant, and this is… my brother Harper.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking comically stunned. “I think I see the problem.”

  Nora gave a quick explanation: how she’d been confused by the old reviews, and how I hadn’t checked my packet until today. I stayed quiet, trying to look as remorseful as possible.

  Then Ms. Windsor raised a finger, speaking with great enthusiasm, “Lucky for you, we also have a boy’s camp, wilderness survival and all that…”

  My blood ran cold as she continued.

  “… roughing it in the wild…” She said with a twinkle in her eye.

  Suddenly light-headed, I only caught bits and pieces of the rest:

  “…chopping wood…”

  “…sleeping in lean-tos…”

  “…hunting squirrels…”

  Finally, Ms. Windsor got to the end of her pitch. “So what do you think?” She beamed at me, but paled as she realized something was wrong.

  Her face softened as she bent forward. “Well, Harper, what would you like to have happen?”

  “Maybe you could make an exception?”

  She eyed me curiously. “That would be highly irregular… but… well maybe we could? Tell me, Harper, do you know why we don’t have boys at the school anymore?”

  “Because they burned it down?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Some—boys—almost turned my beloved school, this veritable citadel to everything I love and hold dear, to ash... because according to them, they were bored. So, if I let you stay, do you promise not to burn down the school, or play with fire or matches? In fact, if you need so much as to light a candle, please ask someone to do it for you—a girl, any girl—not that I hold grudges.”

  “I guess.”

  “I need more than a guess,” she said standing up straight.

  “I promise, no matches,” I added, gulping.

  “Fine. Well, the documents haven’t been updated since we allowed boys, so legally we should be able to, but… a lot of activities are oriented for girls: dancing, sewing and the like, are you a brave enough lad to give those a try?”

  “Yes ma’am, you’re going out of your way to help me. I’m not going to complain… and I understand, no burning anything down… especially the school.”

  She chuckled at that. “Good boy, but never call me Ma’am, it makes me feel old. If you must use a title, use ‘Headmistress.’ It sounds weird, I know, but it’s a period thing.”

  “Thank you… Headmistress.” Eh... it did sound weird.

  She smiled and patted me on the back. “Ms. Windsor or Deidre, please, you’re not in any trouble... so long as nothing incinerates. Now, let’s go meet the girls. But maybe you could keep quiet for tonight, maybe not mention your… um maleness, not until I have a chance to think things through. Spot trouble before trouble spots us. Oh, and we’ll have to find you some clothes… somewhere.”

  Ms. Windsor led us to an enormous front parlor where a group of a dozen or so girls was already waiting. They ranged in age from twelve to seventeen. Almost all of them looked rich, and most looked… a little geeky... history geeks maybe?

  “Welcome to Galeton Manor,” Ms. Windsor’s voice filled the room.

  “We are all guests of Lady Galeton, myself included, as this is her family home. It was built in 1820, in tandem with the Galeton Mining Company. The town grew around it and has slowly shifted into the quaint tourist destination we know and love today.”

  “Galeton is uniquely fun, in that, in the town square and surrounding blocks, everyone must dress in period costume. Any tourists who break this rule will soon find themselves in ‘jail’ thanks to our overzealous sheriff. It’s very entertaining to watch. Although, I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor souls who run afoul of that particular ordinance.”

  “But you don’t have to worry. Your part, as the Ladies of Galeton Manor, is to extol the spirit of the town, to make people excited about being here, to make them want to be you. And they will, because you’re all going to have a fantastic summer.”

  “Shortly we’ll be breaking you into groups. There are eighteen of you, so we’ll have three teams of six. We will be keeping roommates together, so if you applied with a friend, you’ll be on the same team. You and your team will be assigned adjoining rooms. You can think of them as your family for the summer. We’ll get you all settled straight away, after this.

  “During the day, you will be allowed to go into town in pairs. But there is one restriction you need to endure… You’ll be required to install an app on your phone so we can track you. Yes, I know it’s draconian, but it’s the only way we can let you legally roam free.”

  “Now, does anyone have any questions or want to stage any protests about the phones?” She yawned like the latter was both common and trite.

  One girl raised her hand.

  “Yes?” Ms. Windsor called on her.

  “Someone said there was a guy here?”

  “Oh, boy.” She rubbed her temples. “And?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Yes. Well, up until recently, we did take boys. He didn’t know, so there’s been a bit of a… kerfuffle.”

  “He can’t stay,” Victoria proclaimed. “This is a girl’s school.”

  “Where is he?” one girl asked.

  And another followed it up with, “Is he cute?”

  Ms. Windsor motioned to me, giving me an apologetic look. “The boy.”

  I waved meekly. “I’m Harper,” I said, feeling a blush.

  Nora cut in, “It’s my fault. He’s my brother, and I didn’t notice the school had gone girls only, and I accidentally signed him up. The photo we sent in wasn’t a very good one, so he kind of looks like a girl in it, and no one noticed.”

  “Ohhhh,” a tall, spiky-blonde-haired Asian girl said, sounding like she didn’t quite understand.

  Victoria added, “It doesn’t matter. Boys aren’t allowed. Our parents signed contracts.”

  “Well, actually…” Ms. Windsor stated loudly and clearly, “Strictly speaking, we never updated those to disallow boys. So, he might be able to stay. But I suppose that depends on all of you. Would anyone not feel okay with a boy around?”

  I was shocked to see Christie raise her hand, right after Victoria.

  “I see,” said Ms. Windsor.

  “That’s not it!” said Christie. “I just want to be on Harper’s team. If that’s all right?”

  “Me too,” a voice came from the rear as Wilhelmina stepped forward. “Not only would it be a terrible disruption to send him away, as I assume his sister would leave too, and then we’d end up with uneven teams, constantly needing to readjust activities... But every time we did, we’d be reminded of our own inhospitality, that we turned someone away, simply for being a bit different than the rest of us. That, and he seems polite enough to me. If he was trouble that’d be one thing, but… he doesn't seem the sort. Not to me.”

  “Yes,” Ms. Windsor called on Victoria, who still had her hand up. She looked around the room to see the other girls nodding in agreement with Wilhelmina. After a deep gulp, Victoria said, “I just wanted to… volunteer to be on his team too.” And she crossed her arms, glaring at me.

  “Okay, that’s settled then.” Ms. Windsor smiled. “Does anyone have any more requests about the teams before I break you up?”

  I was glad the spectacle was over, and Ms. Windsor was busy going around the room, trying to take everyone’s preference into account. Some of the girls wanted to be paired up with a friend or two, and that took a while to work out, until the remaining students were placed by drawing names out of a hat.

  The final member of our team ended up being the spiky-blonde-haired Asian girl who, as it turned out, didn’t speak any English. She was paired in a room with Christie.

  Our team was sent to a suite of guest rooms overlooking the garden on the first floor. Nora and I were together in a room that seemed something out of a fairytale: The furniture was made of old rosewood, with antique dressers and chairs, and a covered bed on either side. The walls were painted faux-weathered gold and the beds were dressed in sheets that held the line between pale pink and faded red. Everything looked old and worn, but well cared for. It all had a wonderful texture, like it was history itself.

  I plunged face down into the bed on the right.

  “Not too much for you then?” Nora asked.

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “Me too,” she said, plunging into the bed on the left.

  “Poor Wilhelmina,” I yawned, “sharing a room with Victoria.”

  “Don’t you mean poor Victoria?” Nora yawned back, and we yawned back and forth for a while.

  There was a quick knock on the door, followed by Ms. Windsor’s assistant, Tilly, saying, “Dinner in an hour, check your wardrobes…”

  She added, “Oh, Harper, don’t worry about it… but… take a peek anyway.” Then she walked on and knocked on the next door.

  “Hmm…” Nora said, dragging herself out of bed.

  Still engulfed in the feather mattress, I heard her rummage through the closet, followed by a short squeal, and I sat up to see her smirking, holding a dressing bag.

  She held aloft a handwritten note and read aloud, “Dear Ms. Grant. From your picture I can see that dark is your color, and so I leave you this black plume, as a token of the gloom, the darkness of the beauty of Lenore. This it is… and nothing more.”

  She rushed into the bathroom, and when she stepped out, she was wearing a black-on-black dress. Which you might think would be rather monochromatic until you realized the blacks were as distinct from each other as night and day, or at least as different as midnight and early evening. It consisted of a matte black floor length gown with lace trim and a sleek black satin bodice that sheathed her torso.

  “Could you zip me up?” she asked, motioning to her back. I dragged myself out of bed and did the honors, setting her dress into place.

  “It looks like it’s 1890’s style if I’m not mistaken. Or at least that’s what the card says.” She was giddy, sporting her wolfish grin.

  “It’s very nice.”

  “You should check yours… or at least, may I take a peek?”

  “I guess so…”

  I liked clothes, but always felt self-conscious about my appearance, being made fun of all the time. And I appreciated whenever Nora would get something new. She often bought custom clothes off the internet, not costumes, not usually, and they all had elaborate detailing. Occasionally, she’d buy unisex clothing like jackets and such, and she always offered to let me try them on, which I did, eagerly. So, I was looking forward to a summer of fancy clothes myself, bully free, and it was now sinking in that I would likely get screwed out of that by circumstance.

  “Yeah, it sucks…” Nora, put her hand on my shoulder, then went back into the closet and pulled out another bag.

  “Dear Miss Watson,” she read, “I had great fun making this for you, as I have a sister named Harper! I see from your picture you’re a bit of a tomboy, and so is my sister, and it really is my best work so I hope you love it as much as I love her.”

  “Oh wow,” Nora said, holding the gown up to herself. It was similar in style to the one she had on, but in a cobalt blue just a shade too bright to be navy, with black brocade and silver piping on a double-breasted bodice that gave it a subtle military look. I recognized it instantly.

  “It looks like Lilith’s dress…”

  “Lilith?…?”

  “From Blade of the Corrupted, a time traveling steampunk adventure… We listed it as my favorite game in the essay. This is really cool… like really freaking cool…”

  “You know if you want to try it on… just for a second. I won’t tell anyone.” She held it out to me.

  My back tensed as the cackling chorus of my bullies screaming, ‘she man’ played in my head.

  “I mean you always play girls in games…” Nora’s voice became unsure, and I started to feel dizzy.

  I mean I did, but… “That doesn’t mean anything.” A bead of cold sweat dripped down my side.

  Nora stiffened up. “Hey, I’m not going to make you.”

  My stomach twisting, my voice cracked, “But you… you can try it on later if you want.”

  “Deal,” she said, putting the bag back carefully. “It’s almost like I planned this, isn’t it?” She stuck her tongue out at me, trying to make a joke. But the awkwardness kept it from landing.

  After Nora finished dressing, we made our way down to the dining room, where there were already about half a dozen girls standing around talking, all in fancy dresses.

  The clothes were all period of course, late nineteenth century, in all styles and colors, all formal and proper. The girls hadn’t had time to do any makeup, so it felt more like a costume slumber party than a proper ball.

  And there I was, in jeans and a t-shirt, feeling quite out of place, when I felt a tugging at my arm.

  “Heya Harper,” Christie said. She was wearing a frilly peach gown that shimmered in the low light. “Do you speak any… Japanese, or Chinese, or anything?”

  The Asian girl peeked out from behind Christie. She was wearing a lime green dress.

  “Hmm… no, sorry,” I admitted.

  “I think she says her name is Suzi, so I’ve got that figured out at least.”

  The girl motioned, said, “Christie,” and then motioned to me.

  “Oh, I’m Harper,” I said, then repeated, “Harper.”

  Suzi nodded and sighed.

  “Yeah, this is going to take a while, isn’t it?” I asked her.

  Suzi carefully formed the word, “Halper…” then corrected herself, “Harper.”

  I nodded and smiled. “At least one person here might be having a tougher time than me.”

  Christie added, “I’m glad you could stay. It would have been too depressing if you couldn’t.”

  I felt a blush at the kind words. “Looks like I’m going to be spending the summer under—”

  I was interrupted when Suzi tugged on Christie’s arm motioning to the arrival of another group of girls, all wearing their cool fancy gowns, and the two chattered off to take a look.

  “—dressed,” I finished to myself and stood there alone.

  After everyone had gathered, Ms. Windsor rang a bell, and ushered us to sit at our team’s tables. Since it was already late, it was a light dinner: crusty bread and warm milk.

  Near the end, Ms. Windsor sat down beside me.

  “You look glum,” she said. “Feeling left out?”

  “Well, you know.”

  “Don’t worry, there’re plenty of shops in town with boys—men’s clothes. It’s all used, but you never know what you’ll find. We’ll make it work,” she said.

  “Thanks, Ms. Windsor.”

  “Look, I’ve been thinking. If there’s anything I can do to help. Any time you don’t feel comfortable please, just let me know.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise?” she asked.

  “Promise,” I smirked back, thinking of something.

  “What is it?...” she poked me. “You did just promise.”

  “Well,” I said rolling my eyes, “I do take great comfort from playing with matches.”

  She shook her head with a dismissive smile and went to talk to another table.

  ???

  That night I was lying awake in bed, when Nora whispered from across the room, “You asleep?”

  “No.”

  “So, what do you think? Is it okay… spending your summer with a bunch of girls?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the only girl I’ve ever hung out with before. But I think it’ll be okay.”

  “Hey, Harper?”

  “Yes?”

  Nora didn’t reply, and the room stayed silent for a minute.

  Then she spoke up, “Why’d you get so upset about the dress? I mean you said it was cool, but then you acted like it was on fire or something.”

  It was like I’d been kicked in the stomach. “I just don’t like being made fun of.”

  “Oh… sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. But you know, I’m… sensitive about that sort of thing.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said with a hint of hesitation.