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fierce eyes. “What do you want? You want a piece of me, too?”
    “No,” I said, shaking my head. I finished climbing and went to sit down next to her. “What’s wrong?”
    “Do you really not know?” she said. Of course I did. This place was toxic.
    I sat in silence, wondering what I could say to make her feel better. “You realize they’re all a bunch of spoiled brats with nothing better to do than mess with everyone else’s lives. Why do you even care what they think?” I said. But I knew why she cared. It was impossible not to.
    “How do you stand it?” she asked with an abruptness that startled me. “These people. This school. Being here on scholarship and having everyone look down on you?”
    “I stand it because I have no choice,” I said. “My dad and stepmom want to make a young lady out of me. Even though I haven’t met anyone here I’d consider a young lady.”
    Michelle laughed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “They think they’re so superior just because they have money. I don’t know why I left my old school.”
    “Why did you?” I asked.
    “That’s the funny thing. Lockwood approached me. Someone from the school board contacted my guidance counselor and said there was an open scholarship here and that my grades qualified me. My guidance counselor told me if I wanted to go to MIT, I should take the money and run. So I did. But I don’t know if it was worth it. I feel like I sold my soul, you know? I hate the students, and the teachers aren’t much better.”
    “Gallagher’s all right, don’t you think?” I said defensively.
    “At least he’s not bad to look at. I like that he’s letting us do some actual research. What book are you going to read for your project?”
    “I’m thinking of Jane Eyre .”
    She shook her head. “I haven’t read it. What’s it about?”
    I tried to summarize what I had read so far. “At first, there’s all this tension between Jane and Rochester since they’re from different worlds, but then they get to know each other, and they realize they’re more alike than they thought.” I was getting excited just talking about it. “There are these long passages where all they do is stare at each other in the firelight and talk, and you know they’re falling in love even though they won’t admit it to themselves.” Michelle looked at me like I was pathetic, which I totally was. “Anyway, I’m not finished yet, so I don’t know how it ends. What about you? Which book did you choose?”
    “Frankenstein.”
    “Really?” I said, scrunching up my face. I hadn’t read Frankenstein, but it seemed pretty dark and morbid. “Why?”
    “I like that it explores the possibility of bringing people back to life. Cheating death. My mother died. In case you hadn’t heard.”
    I was shocked she’d shared something so personal with me. “How did she die?” I asked.
    Michelle’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know, it’s weird, but hardly anyone ever asks me that. They just say sorry and get all funny and quiet. It’s like they’re afraid it’s contagious.”
    “I know what you mean,” I said. “My mom died, too.”
    Michelle’s face brightened for a moment, like she was happy to hear it. I knew she was only expressing relief at having found someone who might understand what she was going through. “When did she die?” she asked.
    “Eight years ago.” It amazed me how that knot of pain kept coming back, even all these years later. “What about yours?”
    “Last year. She was thrown off a horse while riding. Broke her pelvis and died three days later.” She said the last four words with a bubble of grief in her throat. “I haven’t been able to ride since.”
    “So you used to ride?” I said.
    “Since I was six.”
    “I thought serious riding was just for the elite of the school, not for us charity cases.”
    Michelle gave me a bitter smile. “My mother grew up in Haiti, riding horses on the beach. When she came to the States,