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stray page in the bunch. How could that be? My papers had been hit by a hurricane. A hurricane named Jared Kovach.
    Within seconds, I felt Brooklyn’s note brush across my arm. I reached back and suppressed another chuckle. She’d written the reply across the front in bright red marker.
    Holy Häagen-Dazs, Batman!
    “I’m glad to see you’ve taken such an interest in global science.”
    I jumped at the sound of my Science teacher’s voice, then raised my best innocent, doe-eyed expression toward her. It didn’t work. Ms. Mullins took the note from me just as the bell rang.
    “So, how is your grandmother?”
    “My grandmother?”
    “Yes,” Brooklyn said from behind me. “I told her why you were late. Your grandmother wasn’t feeling well.”
    She did cover for me. “Right, sorry, I was on the phone. But she’s much better now.”
    Students filed out of the classroom while Ms. Mullins examined my coded masterpiece. To the untrained eye, there was nothing on that note but science jargon. And an expletive about ice cream.
    I stood with confidence. Absolute faith. Heck, my best friend was by my side. What more could I ask for?
    “Well, I better go.”
    Brooklyn—my very best friend since the third grade, my most trusted companion and confidante—turned tail and ran out of the lab like a chicken with her head cut off. Only in a much straighter line.
    I stared after her, aghast. I tended to do that when abandoned by the only person on earth I’d ever tell my deepest and darkest secret to. If I had a deep, dark secret, that is.
    Ms. Mullins refolded the note and handed it back. “First of all,” she said with a patient smile, “covalent bonding has a low melting point, not a high one. That would be ionic bonding. Second, we covered our review of physical science two weeks ago, though I am glad to see the enthusiasm linger. And third, I have to agree with your assessment, Ms. McAlister. Supernova, indeed.”
    If I hadn’t clamped my mouth shut, my jaw would have dislodged and fallen to the floor. I tried to think of something to say, but the thought of Ms. Mullins ogling Jared was more than a little disturbing. She was elderly. Probably, like, forty or something.
    “What?” Ms. Mullins protested. “I’m not dead yet.”
    I felt my mouth stretch across my face. I loved Ms. Mullins. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes added a dash of delight to the day, like colored sprinkles on a cupcake.
    “Sorry about the note,” I said, actually remorseful.
    She smiled. “I know what today is, Lorelei.”
    My eyes fluttered in surprise. How could she know?
    She placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
    Her empathy sent an invisible force pressing into my chest as sadness flooded my lungs. I stood cemented to the spot for a solid minute before I managed a soft, “Thank you.”
    Then her smile turned a little wicked. “And if I ever catch you writing notes in my class again…”
    “You won’t. Never, I promise.” I recovered and tucked the evidence into my back pocket.
    She laughed and pointed toward the door.
    With a grateful sigh, I gathered my books and headed that way. “See you tomorrow,” I said.
    “If you’re lucky,” she shot back.
    When I walked out of the classroom, Brooklyn was waiting for me in the hall.
    “What happened to you?” I asked accusingly.
    “Oh please,” she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes, “Ms. Mullins loves you.”
    “True.”
    “Besides, I’m much more interested in supernova.” That got my attention. She leaned in to me and lowered her voice to a seductive purr. “So he’s hot.”
    “Can you say blazing inferno?”
    “Oh, man, I can’t wait to see this guy. Sucks it’ll have to wait. We’re going to be tardy to second hour. If we play our cards right, we might get lunch detention today. I know, I’m aiming high, but—”
    I’d stopped dead in my tracks.
    Brooklyn looked back at me, bewildered. “I