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Cameron! Ofcourse, it makes sense since he winked and blew a kiss at me in class yesterday. And we waved at each other this morning. Hadn’t I hoped I was the one he was calling on Monday?
    “We’re waiting, Paige,” Mrs. Corbin says, arms folded across her chest.
    “It’s not appropriate to read out loud,” I say in desperation.
    But it works.
    “Very well. You may throw it in the wastepaper basket. Since you all like writing notes so much, you’ll be happy to know your assignment is to read the first act of
Romeo and Juliet
and summarize it in one page. It is to be turned in tomorrow. You can start on that now.”
    There are groans, but I feel my skin cool to its normal temperature. A temporary reprieve. Vanessa will find out between the next classes about me being Cameron’s supposed chosen one.
    I’ll be the one the volleyball team will want to beat up.
    “Way to go, Banana,” Emma says as she jabs me in the back again, hard.
    I bite down on my tongue so as not to cry out. This will be a different way to stand up for Jazz. I will stand in for her instead.
    We read till the end of the period. Why do Romeo and Juliet fall for each other, anyway? And how so quickly and deeply? Why can’t they just settle for a nice cousin their parents choose for them?
    Poor Jasmine.
I rush out when the period ends and catch up with her on our way to math. “They think I’m going out with Cameron,” I whisper.
    “Seriously?” She sounds too shocked.
    I feel like pinching her.
    But she hugs me instead. “This is great. He can play along with that, and we’ll make sure my parents never know.”
    “It’s perfect, all right.” I hug her back. This is why I’m here, after all, to stand up for her against these bullies. If I’m the victim, fine. It’s a way better reason to go into a coma. But another thought occurs to me. Only some events from before are re-occurring and some new things are happening. An altered destiny. Is it possible to alter destiny just a little more?
    At lunchtime I leave my thermos of stroganoff in the locker and suggest to Max that we eat at the mall with Cameron and Jazz.
    “Sure. We can have the three-side special at Wong’s.”
    “I hate Chinese,” I say, but then reconsider. “Does it have any monosodium glutamate in it?”
    “Oh plenty. Makes it taste good.” He grins.
    “All right, then.” Everyone knows food-court Chinese isn’t authentic, not like they serve dog or cat or even shark-fin soup. It resembles real Chinese about as much as Mickey Mouse does a real rodent. There is no reason to avoid it. We stroll off the school grounds, my arm linked through Cameron’s. I have to admit, that feels good. He is definitelytaller than both Jazz and me, and he has broad shoulders and muscled athlete’s arms.
    Max walks on Cameron’s side and Jasmine on mine. If her mother drives by right now, she might even call my mother to warn her about me going out with Cameron. Jasmine and Max look like they’re just chumming along. But no parents see us. Only the volleyball team.
    I notice them huddled at the far end of the football field on the other side of the fence, watching us and puffing. Not from the cold, either. I can’t believe a bunch of jocks would do that to their bodies. They’re smoking.
    I lean into Cameron just to make it look really good, and we keep walking.
    In the mall, too, we continue along with Cameron and me attached to each other. I realize this playacting is my last chance at any kind of romance, too. But when we sit down at a table in the food court, boys across from girls, Jazz and Cameron don’t have to touch. The energy between them hums and pulses, a growing live thing. Our playacting has nothing to do with love.
    They share a plate of bo-bo balls, and Max helps me order my sides. I discover spareribs in garlic honey sauce aren’t half bad. Too bad a pig has to die for them. The fried rice and the Cantonese chow mein are delicious. Little bits of animal flesh