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we’re just hanging out. Probably we’ll go over to the skate park with Chester and Mara or something.”
    Once upon a time Bethany had been good friends with Chester and Mara and everyone else, and she would have dropped everything to go, even though she couldn’t ride a skateboard to save her life and she would have sat around all afternoon. But Bethany couldn’t imagine spending an afternoon with James and Genn together, an outsider among her old friends.
    “That’s alright,” she said. She supposed it was a big deal that James had even attempted to invite her, but it didn’t feel that way.
    Bethany left the art room and entered the hallway, aware of James walking away in the opposite direction.

Chapter Nine
     
    Ever since James had broken up with her, Bethany had taken to packing an economy-sized bottle of Tums in her bag. She munched down three before heading off to her last class of the morning, gym. There was not one friendly face, no one to talk to while they were playing soccer or flag football or running track, no one to sit with waiting for class to begin.
    Today she ended up standing by herself at the end of the line they formed along the wall at the beginning of class. Beside her stood Robin Marchaud, a stooped over girl with a bowl cut who was legally blind. Robin never participated in any games where she had to worry about seeing things. Usually she walked or jogged laps around the perimeter of the field or court where gym class was held that day. Quite a few times this year Bethany had wished she was legally blind. Anything to not have to endure the humiliation of gym class.
    “All right, everyone count off by twos,” Mr. Wheaton said, entering the gym with two bags of softball equipment.
    Bethany found herself on the same team as Ben Simms and Caitlyn Trudeau. She trudged behind them out to the baseball diamond.
    The early November day was bright but cold. Bethany put the hood of her black sweatshirt over her head. When Mr. Wheaton passed out gloves to her team, Bethany headed for the outfield where she could daydream unbothered.
    Unfortunately, with Nick Lorden and his jock friends all on the other team, balls kept flying deep into the outfield. “Get the ball, Caleb!” Ben Simms yelled over and over from his position as first baseman.
    Most of the time Bethany could ignore him, since Gretchen Ingersol, who was on the girls’ varsity softball league, was playing the outfield too. Once Bethany had to get the ball, though. “Run, Caleb, faster! Jesus Christ!” Ben screamed. Bethany’s throw to the infield fell several yards short. “What the hell,” Ben said, running up to get the ball.
    Caitlyn pointed and laughed.
    Bethany was somewhat relieved when it was time for their team to bat and she could sit on the bleachers. She thought about the email from Jana she’d received yesterday afternoon.
    She wasn’t supposed to even be checking her email, because she was grounded from Friday. On Friday, after her parents had gone out, Bethany had decided to get rid of all of the paintings on her wall that she thought sucked. Her first five paintings from her art class freshman year all had the typical realistic style she learned her parents liked, but all five featured subject matter her parents did not like. One painting was a face reflected in a knife. One showed a girl in an empty room; the shadows of icicles in the room’s window became bars that striped her face. The symbolism in these early paintings was so obvious it embarrassed her. Compared to how she felt now, her depression freshman year was nothing. Now that she thought about it, she had been lonely, rather than depressed. Back then, she was trying to be what she thought artists were. She hadn’t been depressed then. She had been a kid, trying to impress people with how mature her feelings were. Now they just looked stupid and fake.
    Bethany had stared and stared at her paintings. Then she took a utility knife out of her art box, and