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believe what I was saying. My pulse was racing hard. My voice was quivering. My chest thumped. What’s this? Why this? Courtney? I’m saying her name? Here? I’m giving up my secret? Why? For her? For Jessica Feeney? So we wouldn’t talk about her anymore?
    Jeff looked at me. His face was a blank.
    “I mean, your uncle’s still coming over next weekend, right?” I asked.
    “What are you talking about?” said Rich, looking back and forth between us. “What uncle?”
    Jeff nodded. “He’s coming.”
    “And he’ll have the you-know-what?”
    “What you-know-what?” asked Rich.
    “You know,” I said, not taking my eyes off Jeff.
    Finally he grinned back. “Yeah … yeah … Courtney’s house,” he said, glancing at Rich, who was still in the dark. “Yeah. Cool.”
    But for some reason, that wasn’t enough to push it away. Rich already seemed bored with our talk. When he looked once more back at the school, he had a smirky little smile on his face. It seemed as if he was remembering some other thing he had heard about Jessica, and it wasn’t going to be nice.
    “I’m going to nominate Courtney, too,” I blurted out, spilling everything right there on the gym yard. Some idiot in my brain kept saying
go on, tell them everything, tell them all about it, you jerk!
    “I’m going to do it first,” I said, “before anybody else has a chance.”
    The coach was finally coming toward us now. I heard one of her knees snapping loudly as she walked.
    Rich still had that face on. He was going to say something. His mouth opened. “And you know what else —”
    I had to finish it. It was complete idiocy. “I really like her,” I said quickly. “I like Courtney. She’d make a cool president.”
    Rich’s face grew suddenly huge. “What? You love her?” His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open exaggeratedly. “Tom loves Courtney. Oooh! Jeff, he loves Courtney! Oooh,
Tahom…
”
    “She’s gonna win,” Jeff said quietly as Mrs. Brower finally blew her whistle. The class started, and we were pulled apart to different sides of the yard.
    Everything was a blur during the rest of gym class. I couldn’t believe that I had just told them everything. I had told them I liked Courtney!
    Later, just before lunch, when it was time for social studies, Mrs. Tracy clasped her hands together and looked around to get everyone’s attention.
    “Another announcement?” someone whispered from the back. “Not another new person!”
    That was a pretty stupid thing to say.
    “Before we start social studies,” Mrs. Tracy said, “Sister Margaret Christopher has suggested that the classes join in a special prayer for all the candidates in the real elections this year. A prayer that they may make the right decisions and will guide us and help us lead safe and prosperous lives in our state and our country. All the grades are doing it. So, hands, everyone.”
    “Hold hands? No way,” said Eric LoBianco, repeating what he said every prayer time.
    “It’s a short prayer,” Mrs. Tracy said, looking at Eric. “And we will all participate. The more of us who say the prayer, the better the chance it will be heard.”
    Kayla made a show of wiping her small hands, then held them out, one to Rich and the other to me.
    I glanced to the back corner to see Courtney holding Dave Tessman’s hand. I wondered for an instant if Dave felt anything for Courtney or knew how lucky he was. His other hand held his twin sister Karen’s hand. Dave and Karen Tessman.
    As everyone reached out, something rippled across the room, as if they all suddenly thought of the same thing at the same time: Jessica Feeney was in the class now.
    Coming in late and leaving early most days, she had always missed the morning and afternoon prayer rings. But now she was here. This was the first time her burned hands would be part of the prayer ring.
    She stood up and extended her hand to me.
    I felt as if everyone’s eyes were on me. I must have dropped a gallon