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ignored her.
    Marshall looked behind him and tried to wave her down. She still didn’t budge. There was an empty desk right in front of hers. He wasn’t sure if he should risk moving. The three amigos would notice.
    He looked at Michael, who was already drawing up a plan on paper—presumably the new club—and figured this was as good as any chance. Marshall picked up his bag and plopped down in front of her.
    “Hey,” he said turning around. Her face visibly brightened, and her short hair shook with surprise.
    “Hey yourself,” she said. “Where’d you come from?”
    “Was right over there. Tried to get you to see me, but you …” he stopped talking.
    “I’m a little nervous,” she offered. “This is only the second school I’ve been to in my whole life.”
    “I didn’t think you were going to be here,” Marshall said, noticing how pretty her eyes looked. “Thought maybe you would go to your old school.”
    “Nah, can’t now with Aunt Norma sick and all. She lives a ways from here too.” She looked at him with a small smile, but it disappeared when a paper airplane flew toward them. The three amigos laughed, then the bell rang and the room became silent.
    “Who are they?” she whispered in his ear.
    “The tall one is Michael, he’s sort of the leader,” Marshall said in a return whisper. “Then the short dark haired one is Greg, and Justin is the short one. They think they’re hilarious.”
    Marshall had hoped this wouldn’t happen. But sure enough, they’d noticed he moved—to sit next to a girl, no less.
    Michael made a heart shape with his fingers, and batted his eyelashes. The other two giggled, just as Mr. Lester, their teacher, wrote his name on the board. Then class began.
    Neither of them spoke to each other until the end of class. They both had English class next, so they walked to it, hoping the three amigos wouldn’t say anything else. It was just what Marshall didn’t need; rumors that he had a girlfriend on the first day of school.
    But Michael caught up to him. “Who’s your girlfriend?”
    “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a friend. Her name’s Iris.”
    Iris didn’t look at them and walked on, staring at the floor.
    “Whatever. Say, did you find anything good at that junk store this summer? You said you were looking.”
    Marshall winced. Sheesh , he was talking about her uncle’s store right in front of her.
    “Uh, not really,” he said in partial truth. He couldn’t tell Michael about the puzzle. They would laugh him out of school. Iris looked at him and smiled. And they both knew what was happening. The puzzle was their little secret.
    “Well, you’ve got a lot to live up to after that knife last year. How about a gun or something like that?”
    “Michael, we can’t have guns, we’d go to jail. And if I did, no way I’d bring that here.” Marshall looked around and hoped no one was looking or listening to them. He didn’t need anyone tattling on them that they heard them say something about a gun on school property. “I’ll let you know when I get it though. It’ll be cool.”
    “I hope so.” Michael grinned, a lopsided one. “This years’ club is going to be about the kid with the coolest toy from summer. You’re sort of my inspiration.” Michael slapped him on the back. “But here’s the kicker—you have to get voted in.”
    “By whom?” said Marshall, mouth in a frown. This was absurd and had to be the worst club ever.
    “By me and Greg and Justin. That’s who.” He stared at Marshall, trying to intimidate him down just a bit. People don’t go around asking Michael questions: they do as they ’re told . “You got the rest of the year to join the club; until December to get something good. No cool toy, no club.”
    He grinned once more and sort of shuffled away into his class, American History.
    Iris was right next to him, silent.
    “I haven’t seen you all week,” she finally said. Her eyes were round and soft today, kind of