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be sent here. I had my own friends and my own inside jokes and my own stolen kisses. I wish my parents had offered me the choice: “Would you like to spend your senior year in Atlanta or Paris?”
    Who knows? Maybe I would have picked Paris.
    What my parents never considered is that I just wanted a choice.

chapter five
    To: Anna Oliphant
    From: Bridgette Saunderwick
    Subject: Don’t look now but . . .
... the bottom right corner of your bed is untucked. HA! Made you look. Now stop smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Seriously. How’s Le Academe du Fraunch? Any hotties I should know about? Speaking of, guess who’s in my calc class?? Drew! He dyed his hair black and got a lip ring. And he’s totally callipygian (look it up, lazy ass). I sat with the usual at lunch, but it wasn’t the same without you. Not to mention freaking Cherrie showed up. She kept flipping her hair around, and I swear I heard you humming that TRESemmé commercial. I’ll gouge out my eyes with Sean’s Darth Maul action figure if she sits with us every day. By the way, your mom hired me to babysit him after school, so I’d better go. Don’t want him to die on my watch.

You suck. Come home.
Bridge

P.S. Tomorrow they’re announcing section leaders in band. Wish me luck. If they give my spot to Kevin Quiggley, I’ll gouge out HIS eyes with Darth Maul.
    Callipygian . Having shapely buttocks. Nice one, Bridge.
    My best friend is a word fiend. One of her most prized possessions is her OED , which she bought for practically nothing at a yard sale two years ago. The Oxford English Dictionary is a twenty-volume set that not only provides definitions of words but their histories as well. Bridge is always throwing big words into conversations, because she loves to watch people squirm and bluff their way around them. I learned a long time ago not to pretend to know what she was talking about. She’d call me on it every time.
    So Bridgette collects words and, apparently, my life.
    I can’t believe Mom hired her to watch Sean. I know she’s the best choice, since we were always watching him together, but still. It’s weird she’s there without me. And it’s weird that she’s talking to my mom while I’m stuck here on the other side of the world. Next she’ll tell me she got a second job at the movie theater.
    Speaking of, Toph hasn’t emailed me in two days. It’s not like I expected him to write every day‚ or even every week, but . . . there was an undeniable something between us. I mean, we kissed . Will this thing—whatever it is—end now that I’m here?
    His real name is Christopher, but he hates being called Chris, so he goes by Toph instead. He has shocking green eyes and wicked sideburns.We’re both left-handed, we both love the fake nacho cheese at the concession stand, and we both hate Cuba Gooding Jr. I’ve crushed on Toph since my first day on the job, when he stuck his head under the ICEE machine and guzzled it straight from the tap to make me laugh. He had Blue Raspberry Mouth for the rest of his shift.
    Not many people can pull off blue teeth. But believe me, Toph can.
    I refresh my inbox—just in case—but nothing new appears. I’ve been planted in front of my computer for several hours, waiting for Bridge to get out of school. I’m glad she emailed me. For some reason, I wanted her to write first. Maybe because I wanted her to think I was so happy and busy that I didn’t have time to talk. When, in reality, I’m sad and alone.
    And hungry. My mini-fridge is empty.
    I had dinner in the cafeteria but avoided the main food line again, stuffing myself with more bread, which only lasts so long. Maybe St. Clair will order breakfast for me again in the morning. Or Meredith; I bet she’d do it.
    I reply to Bridge, telling her about my new sort-of-friends, the crazy cafeteria with restaurant-quality food, and the giant Panthéon down the road. Despite myself,