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recognize you.”
    “Why would you?” he said.
    “We’re in class together!”
    “You apparently never noticed. There’s no crime there.”
    “Did you recognize me?”
    Gabe turned to look at her. “
Of course.
” He rolled his eyes. “We’ve been in school together for four years.”
    “I don’t know very many people.”
    “Why should you?” he said. “You’ve got your clique.”
    That was true, but not the way he was saying it. “We’re not a clique,” she said.
    “Gang, then.”
    “Gabe.”
    “Army?”
    “Why do you dislike us so much?”
    “Because you’re jerks,” he said. “Because you call me Geekle—what does that even mean?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t call you that!”
    “Because you don’t know I exist!”
    “I know
now
,” she said.
    Gabe started to say something, then shook his head.
    “Jocelyn has a big mouth,” Elena said. “She’s harmless.”
    “To you,” Gabe said. “You guys think you’re so far above everyone else.”
    “I don’t think that.”
    “You walk around in a clump, looking all cute and matchy, and throw your clever little insults down on us plebes—”
    “We never intentionally match!” Elena said.
    “Whatever!”
    They both sat back, arms crossed.
    “It’s not like that,” Elena said. “We’re not a clique. We’re just friends.”
    Gabe huffed. “Do you know why I know you and your friends? But you don’t know me and my friends?”
    “Why?”
    “Because we don’t get in your way. We don’t have nicknames for you, and if we did, we wouldn’t shout them every day when you walked into Spanish.”
    “That’s just Jocelyn,” Elena said.
    “That’s your whole vibe,” Gabe said.
    “I don’t even have a vibe!”
    “Pfft!”
    “So you hate me,” she said. “You hated me before I even got in line.”
    “I didn’t hate you,” he said. “You’re just . . . part of them.”
    “I’m also part of this,” she said.
    “What’s this? Star Wars? I don’t have to like you because you like Star Wars. I don’t have to like every meathead with a stormtrooper tattoo.”
    “No,” Elena said. “I’m part of this, part of the line.”
    “What does that count for?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, “but it should count for something. Look, I’m sorry Jocelyn calls you names. She’s a loudmouth. She’s been a loudmouth since
fourth grade. We’re all just
used
to her. And if you’ve noticed me at all at school, you’ve noticed that I don’t exactly reach out. I don’t talk to anybody in
some of my classes. There’s nobody in my math class who could pick me out of a line-up.”
    “I don’t believe that,” he said.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, “that I’ve never talked to you before. But you’ve never talked to me either. We’re talking
now
.”
    Gabe gritted his teeth. “I
hate
it when she calls me Geekle.”
    “She calls me Ele-nerd,” Elena said. “And Short Stuff. Wednesday Addams. Virgin Daiquiri. Ukelena . . . Ukelele. Lele. My Little Pony. Thumbelina. Rumpelstiltskin . .
.”
    Gabe laughed a little. “Why do you let her call you all that?”
    “I don’t even hear it any more,” Elena said. “Plus it’s different. I’m her friend . . . I can have her stop calling you names, if you want?”
    “It doesn’t even matter,” Gabe said.
    They were quiet for a minute. Elena was trying to figure out whether she was mad. She wasn’t.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “That we already knew each other.”
    “I didn’t want you to call me Geekle,” Gabe said. “I didn’t want it to catch on.”
    Elena nodded.
    “We should sleep,” he said. “This is our last night.”
    “Yeah,” Elena said.
    He pulled up his legs and folded his arms.
How did he sleep like that?
    Elena curled up as much as she could. She kept trying to get comfortable. It was so bright under the lights.
    “Gabe?” she said after ten minutes or so.
    “Yeah?”
    “Are you asleep?”
    “Sort of.”
    “Are you still