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my name was called and I walked to the podium. Unlike Scott and others in the popular crowd, my march across the stage was not heralded by any outburst of enthusiastic applause, cheers, or congratulatory war whoops from friends and relatives. For me there was only silence, followed by embarrassed, tepid applause. My heart was pounding and my face was hot with humiliation, but I maintained my icy control and survived the ceremony.
    After all the diplomas had been handed out and all the speeches given, everyone congregated on the lawn in front of the school. Each new graduate, wearing a white cap and gown and a bright smile, posed for pictures surrounded by a joyous crowd of relatives and friends. They all had mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. Only I was alone. No one came over to hug me and say “I’m so proud of you.” I wanted my mother so badly I ached. How could she do this to me?
    Ironically, I’d never minded being an only child. Now, standing on that lawn, I’d have given anything to have a sister or brother to cheer me on.
    I was making my way through the crowd when Nicole came up behind me and grabbed my arm. “Ashley. Come with us. We’re going to lunch at the Portabella Bistro to celebrate.”
    I hesitated. “We?”
    “Oh, you know—my mother, my brothers, and my grandmother,” she said, making a face. “Then tonight I have to go to dinner with my dad and that woman. ”
    Now that her parents were divorced, poor Nic had to play the do-everything-twice game.
    I stood there, jiggling my car keys in my hand. Seeing my hesitation, she pleaded, “Please, it’ll be fun.”
    Looking over Nicole’s head, I could see her mother standing beside her Beamer, watching us from across the lot. Clad in a floaty yellow dress with her platinum hair curling around her sly face, Cindy looked like a lemon meringue pie—one with the sugar left out. In her eyes I recognized a trace of triumph atmy comeuppance. I gave her a defiant look, hugged Nicole, and answered, “Sure.”
    But as I climbed behind the wheel, a police car cruised by on the adjacent street, reminding me of just how different I was from all the other graduates. My whole body suddenly felt heavy, weighed down with worry and misery. There was no way I could face two hours of fending off Cindy’s cutting remarks and pretending that everything was wonderful. Instead, I turned my car in the opposite direction of the restaurant and drove home to brood about how my life sucked.

Chapter Five
Graduation night always means lots of parties, but I felt too wounded to call around and find out what was happening. I stayed home, having a one-woman pity party, moping and listening to a CD of my-boyfriend’s-left-me-and-I-think-I’ll-kill-myself songs. Around ten I heard a car horn honk. I looked outside and saw a long white limousine pulled up to the curb. Out popped the platinum-and-purple head of Tatiana, better known as Tattie, the wildest girl in the entire school.
    “Hey, let’s get crazy. It’s party time!” Tattie shouted as I opened the front door. I could hear the raucous rap of OutKast blasting from inside the limo. The music was so loud the car was vibrating.
    Why not? I thought. Waiting and moping wasn’t doing me any good. Why not get crazy?
    “Give me two minutes,” I yelled back, and dashed into my bedroom to don my shortest, hottest skirt, a red halter top, and a pair of sexy high-heeled sandals.
    I was surprised at this unexpected invitation. Tattie andI had never been close. She was a little too over the top for my taste. While my ears and belly button are pierced, Tattie wore six earrings in each ear and one in her eyebrow plus a stud in the side of her lip. She also had a tattoo of a tiger on her backside, which everyone could see when she bent over. Most of her outfits were tight and garish and looked as if she bought them at Kmart. Still, she had a great body, and she had been