{ALICE'S POV}

Off to first period. Brianna and I separate.

       I make my way down the hallway/maze, keeping to myself. My parents always tell me to lift my head and "walk tall".

That makes me wonder if they ever went to secondary school. If they did, they'd understand that it's sometimes dangerous to lift your head. Something gross could fly at it.
     I have to make a detour to use the girls' toilets. There's a line outside the door.

For a minute I think about skipping it, but I don't think I can make it through the next period. Also, my science teacher, Mr. Beckett, is known for being ungenerous with the toilets passes. We learned that the first few days of class.

I wait forever.

And ever.

       And ever. At this point, my bladder is in pain.

        I start daydreaming to take my mind off pressing matters. I think about summer and wish it was June. Or winter break already. Or any time I don't have to be with crowds of people my age.
             I think about a family trip we took to Water World in Spain when I was six and my siblings were still living at home. That was when I still talked. A lot. In fact, my brother had taken out his phone and recorded me going on for about forty minutes during the car ride. I talked nonstop about a play date with Agnes. My family jokingly says they keep the recording for "evidence".

                  It's really not that funny. And anyway, thinking about Spain and it's water parks isn't helping my current situation.

               Instead, I start thinking about another trip my parents and I took. It was to Ullapool last spring. It was the one and only time they both decided to take a vacation from work. I remember standing in front of the globe sculpture at Knockan Grag National Nature Reserve and making faces. And going to the Ullapool Museum and seeing a bunch of artifacts back in older times. And eating the best scallops of my life (although my dad, who's from Tokyo, would totally disagree).

              What I remember the most, though, is that the days seemed to be all about me—not in an annoying, embarrassing way . . . but in a cool, low-key kind of way. Everything was so relaxed. My parents were relaxed (not distracted or bombarding me with questions). I was relaxed. And I got to choose where to go and what to do. So unlike middle school.
            My daydream is interrupted by a loud flush. A stall finally empties. But then a huge girl behind me cuts in front.

Now I'm really late. When I get out, the halls are practically empty. This means I could get a late slip. That's bad. Also, everyone will look at me when I walk into class. That's worse.

I rush to science and see everybody already sitting in their seats. Luckily, they're talking and not paying attention to me.

The teacher isn't here yet. I sit down quietly and wish for the hundredth time I had a seat in back. I also wish I had someone to talk to. Like Ag.

         The gossip girls are on a roll today. I didn't think anyone could talk so much about nothing. I don't know whether to be weirded out or filled with awe. Maybe both. You'd think after a while their jaws would start aching.

     Everybody has someone to talk to except me. I start getting that squeezy feeling in my stomach again. I take my five breaths, but it's not working this time. Maybe my spine is not straight.

I go to Plan B. Inching my face as close to my homework notebook as possible, I start doodling.

I wait. And draw.

The more I draw, the more my stomach unknots.

I wish I could draw all day.

{MARIA'S POV}

Before first period, I do what most girls do: head straight for the toilets. Seems that luck is on my side, 'cause I manage to catch a good spot in line. Wow. Zero mirror space today. Aileen makes room near the windows, but nature calls. The halls are dead when I step out. Hope I don't get a late slip. It's hard to talk your way out of this one. When I get to class, the teacher is nowhere in sight (Yay!). There's that quiet girl. She likes to draw. I'd rather talk. Or text. I guess Harry Carson is getting bored because all of a sudden...he snatches the girl's notebook and mumbles my name surrounded by obnoxious laughter. Now, I'm a nice person, but I'm not a pushover. Hearing my name come out of Harry's mouth, I give him an intense glare. He cowers. Eventually he gives back the notebook. Poor girl. But honestly, I don't understand people who don't stick up for themselves. It's not like it takes effort.