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with my freeze ray!”
    “Freeze ray, yeah!” Michael Eric jumps.
    Daniel watches.
    I throw up my arms. “No, no! I’ll block you with my heat gun and turn your freeze ray to
steam
!”
    “Aw, cool,” Adam mumbles.
    We chase each other around until it’s dinnertime. Before bedtime, Michael Eric comes over while I sit on the couch and kisses me good night on the knee.
    Mr. Murphy seems surprised. His gaze lingers longer than is comfortable. “I guess you’ve won him over, huh?” he asks.
    I shrug. “I guess.”
    Soon enough, I go up to bed. I worry about school the next day, but decide I’d better just set my thoughts on playing Super High Tops Girl and how much fun I had. Or how Mrs. Murphy smiled more at dinner than she has in a couple of days. I wonder how I had planned to be a bad guy but ended up with a hero’s name.
    From the planet Oblivion.

CHAPTER 12

Thou Art a Wing Nut
    I t is my sixth day here. My first day of school.
    Mrs. Murphy, the boys, and I all pile into the car. I hold the lunch that Mrs. Murphy made for me, relieved that there are no smiley faces drawn on the bag. The boys are making up disgusting ice cream flavors as we pull into the Smith Middle School driveway. I wonder if the feeling in my stomach is from the thought of ant juice and broccoli ice cream or starting school.
    I look up. Way nicer than my old school. Pillars the size of cars. Huge lawn with a row of perfect trees. All the same size. No leaves.
    Mrs. Murphy turns to me. “The office is right inside the front door. Would you like me to walk you in?”
    I’d kind of like her to, but I glance into the backseat and imagine two boys running in circles around us, and decide I’d rather be more invisible than that. “No, thanks.”
    As I get out, Michael Eric yells, “Bye-bye, Carley. See you after school!”
    The wind whips as I walk, staring at my reflection, toward the glass doors of the school; I am unfamiliar to myself in my new clothes. I head into the office. “Hi. I’m a new student here? Eighth grade?”
    I give the secretary my name; it’s kind of nice talking to a secretary who doesn’t know who my mother is. She shuffles some papers and smiles. “Looks like you’re all set, Carley! Welcome to Smith!”
    I am not breathing funny anymore by the time I find that the combination to my locker works. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Maybe this will be okay.
    “You’re kidding me!” the girl next to me yells, hitting her locker. “What a simp I am. I can’t believe I left it at home.” She leans her forehead against her locker, straightens, and then turns to me. “Can you believe what a simp I am?”
    She takes off a very cool black jacket with scenes from New York embroidered on it. Her shirt reads WICKED and has a small green witch on a broom.
    “Well?” she asks.
    “Well what?”
    “Can you believe what a simp I am?”
    This is a test, but I don’t know what to say. I’m not standing in my own skin.
    She leans in. “You don’t know what
simp
means, do you?”
    I lean back.
    “As in
simpleton
?” she asks. “Or is that too long of a word foryou?” She laughs. Her eyes get smaller and stare until I look away first. She swears and says, “What do you pathetic clones know, anyway?”
    “What are you even talking about?”
    She shifts her weight and then motions toward me. “Nice getup. Why, you’re a real trailblazer.”
    I’ve always been fast on my feet in situations like this, but I just stand there. I look down at myself. I’ve wondered all morning if I’d be accepted more because of these popular clothes.
    She slams her locker door and storms away, ranting about whatever it was she’d forgotten.
    My breathing is funny again.
    First period is social studies. I walk in and the teacher smiles at me. “Welcome. I’m Mr. Ruben. You know, like the sandwich?” He covers his stomach with one hand and waves the other in the air. “However, thou may address me as Sir Ruben.” He takes a