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going to sleep early, but Allie was practicing one of her West Side Story songs in her room and I couldn’t sleep. I went into my mom’s room. She was organizing her closets and had piles of sweaters and shirts and pants and skirts everywhere on her bed. I found a small square of a spot near her pillows and sat down cross-legged.
    â€œWhat’s up, honey? You look tired. You okay?”
    â€œJust thinking about stuff,” I said, and watched my mom fold an old red sweater of hers and put it in what she said was the “donate” pile.
    â€œMom, why does Allie get so obsessed with her part when she’s in a play? I can’t sleep, listening to her sing the same song over and over.”
    â€œOh, you know how she gets before a show. She’s nervous.”
    â€œShe doesn’t act nervous. She acts like a diva actress who’s won three Academy Awards.”
    â€œWell, that’s how Allie shows her nerves.”
    I wondered what I did when I was nervous. Usually I didn’t want to be around people or attract any attention. Allie seemed just the opposite.
    â€œWant to talk about whatever you’re thinking about?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I think I just need some sleep. Can you tell Miss Diva to quiet down? If I tell her, she’ll get mad and just sing louder.”
    â€œOkay.” Mom smiled. “Good night.” She came over to kiss me on my forehead. “You’ll figure it out. You always do. But let me know ifyou want to talk about it, okay, honey?”
    I nodded and got up.
    I climbed into bed and thought of all the things I was trying to figure out with Hailey, with the letter to Dear Know-It-All, with Michael, even with Allie. My eyelids felt heavy and I started to drift off.
    Hopefully, it would all seem simpler in the morning.

Chapter 6
GIRL CHOKES ON PEANUT BUTTER, MISSES GREAT DATE OPPORTUNITY

    The next morning I wore my favorite long brown skirt and white T-shirt. I had a big breakfast of eggs, toast, and turkey sausage. The weather was sunny and beautiful, and I wasn’t going to let anything bother me today.
    â€œHeeellooo!” I said brightly to Hailey when I saw her walking down the hall to her language arts class.
    â€œHi!” she answered back, and we walked together. Then Hailey pulled me toward the wall. “Okay, I just saw Michael coming the other way. I have another plan about the show. I’ll fake sick and say your mom’s back is out. She’s had back problems before, right? So I’llsay you’re not sure what to do and he’ll offer to go with you on Friday. Is that proactive or what?”
    â€œWell, I don’t know about—” I started to say, but again I got one of those Hailey shoves that could have sent me airborne. I found myself colliding with Michael as he came innocently walking down the hall, his head buried in a notebook he was holding.
    â€œWhoa,” he said, and steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. His hand felt warm and strong, but I was getting angry—okay, furious —at this pushing strategy Hailey actually seemed to think was a proactive plan of attack.
    â€œYou okay, Trippy? You’ve been extra-trippy lately, even for you,” he said. Then that cute, crazy smile emerged, along with crinkles near his eyes—the whole deal.
    I backed up, stood up straight, and cleared my throat.
    â€œI—well, it’s just that . . .” I looked behind me, planning on glaring at Hailey, but she was nowhere to be seen.
    â€œI’m glad I ran into you—not literally, but I guess kind of literally,” he said.
    â€œHa-ha.”
    â€œWell, I’m glad, because I was thinking about the play.”
    I stopped breathing. Maybe Hailey had been right all along—all this pushing and awkward conversation had kept me on his mind. There’s no such thing as bad publicity, right?
    â€œYeah?” I said, toeing the carpet with the