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probably the number one reason he’s back with her.
    And now I’m stuck liking him. Probably forever.
    Sandra puts her arm around my shoulders. “He’s a jerk. Forget about him. You’ll find someone better.”
    I don’t think so. I’m a failure. I’m never going to like a guy again.
    Tammy walks by. She sees the look on my face and does a double take. Almost like she wants to say something to me. That would be the first time since the slumber party last month. Maybe she realizes I wasn’t trying to make fun of her when we were playing with the Ouija board. I’m hopeful for a second.
    Then she’s gone.
    Lately, it seems like I’m losing everyone I care about.
    Sandra leads me away from the lockers and toward our fifth-hour class.
    age 6
    “Kristen, stop hitting your sister,” Mom says. We are driving to Florida. I am six, and my parents have promised me a trip to Disney World for spring break. Kristen is too old to enjoy the trip. At thirteen, she’d rather be going somewhere exciting with her friends, but my parents keep reminding her that she got to go to Disney World when she was little and now it’s my turn.
    I grin in satisfaction and say in my head, You got in trouble, you got in trouble. I know better than to say it aloud. That will get me in trouble with Dad, who is already annoyed. But Kristen can tell I’m making fun of her with my eyes. She knocks a package of Life Savers out of my hand so hard that some of them roll along the floor and under the seat. I start scavenging for them. When I think I have them all, I stick my tongue out at Kristen. She just glares back.
    “Turn on the air-conditioning,” Kristen moans for at least the twentieth time.
    It’s not all that hot in the car. We’re only in southern Ohio, and it’s just the beginning of April. “I’ll turn it on when we get farther south and it’s hotter,” Dad says.
    Kristen makes a nasty snorting sound. Dad likes to have the windows of the car open, but the wind whipping through them is messing up Kristen’s hair. I just don’t see the bigdeal. Now getting to see Aurora and Belle and Ariel—that will be a big deal. I can’t think about anything else. I have all my princess books stacked in my lap.
    I flip one open and start reading it. “Want to read with me?” I offer Kristen. I can think of no greater peace offering.
    She glares at me.
    “Please. They’re good books.”
    She rolls her eyes at me and pulls out a pillow, then hides her face underneath it.
    Mom sees the hurt look on my face. “Don’t worry about it, Maddy,” she tells me. “Just enjoy your books.”
    “Will you read along with me?” I ask. I want company.
    Mom smiles at me. “Next rest stop I’ll change places with Kristen. She can sit up here, and I’ll sit back there with you so we can read the stories together.”
    “Thank God,” Kristen emerges from under the pillow long enough to say. Then she hides back underneath it. The next few minutes are peaceful until Dad stops at the rest area. When we all get out of the car…
    age 11
    I’m in Sandra’s bedroom. I’m trying to get dressed and pack my clothes, but I’m missing a pair of socks.
    It’s Sandra’s eleventh birthday, and we were planning tohave a sleepover. Were is the most important word here.
    Sandra’s mother hasn’t been feeling well lately, so every time in the past few months we’ve asked if I could stay over, we’ve been told no. Sandra’s mother suffers from bad migraines. Noise makes them worse. So it makes sense to me that I shouldn’t spend the night at her house.
    But why Sandra hasn’t been able to stay the night at my house…that I just don’t get. Every time we bring the subject up with her mother, she starts saying things like, “If you really feel you must go, darlin’, I understand.” Her mother was raised in the South, and she has this honeyed way of speaking the word darlin’ that drives me crazy; maybe that’s because Sandra melts whenever her mother