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anything, not even paper and pencils
    I unwrapped a stick of gum and started chomping
    We walked for half a block in the windy heat without saying a single word. The Scavullos’ automatic lawn sprinkler was going
thwip, thwip, thwip,
shooting water all over the sidewalk, so mostly I just concentrated on not getting drenched. But Francesca didn’t care. All of a sudden she took off her shoes, walked right over to the sprinkler, and let it spray her for as long as it took me to yell, “OMIGOD, FRANCESCA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Then she ran back over to me, laughing. Maybe because of all those flounces and layers, her clothes hardly even looked damp, but her long, caramel-colored hair was definitely drippy
    â€œWhew. Wow. That was funfunfun,” she said, stepping back into her shoes. “Don’t be so boring, Evie—you should do it too. It’ll wake you up!”
    â€œI’m awake already,” I answered, not too thrilled withthe word “boring.” I watched her shake her hair like an overgrown puppy. “But I bet
you
were up incredibly late last night.”
    â€œOh, I was! Aunt Sam gives the best parties. Although truthfully this one was sort of sad.”
    â€œSad?”
    â€œIt was a cast party. For when a play is over.” We started walking again. “Aunt Sam’s an actress. You knew that, right?”
    â€œHow would I possibly—”
    â€œThat’s odd. I thought you did.” She stopped for a second to adjust her shoe strap; I noticed her foot didn’t seem so peely anymore. “I guess I just assumed Aunt Sam mentioned it to your mom. Who, by the way, is utterly brilliant.”
    â€œNo she’s not,” I said. “She’s just . . . organized.”
    â€œShe’s terrifying. She should direct theater, the way she stormed over last night and ordered all those actors around. Aunt Sam was actually
trembling
. But your mom said you’d walk me to school today, so that was excaliburly sweet of her. And you, Evie. Thanks.”
    By the time we got to school, Nisha and Lily were sitting on the grass, listening to a bunch of people complain/bragabout their boring/amazing summers. Francesca had to give some “emergency forms” to the main office, so I showed her where to go. Then I plopped down beside Nisha
    â€œSo you were walking with Malibu Barbie?” Nisha asked, watching Francesca clomp up the front steps of Blanton Middle
    â€œMom forced me,” I answered. “We had a huge fight about it at breakfast.”
    â€œWell, try to relax about it now,” Lily said, patting my back
    â€œAnd she doesn’t even
know
Francesca,” I continued, definitely not relaxing. “I swear, if Mom had any clue what a liar she is—”
    â€œFrancesca lies?” Nisha asked. “Really? So it’s not just that she steals ice cream?”
    I looked at her. Nisha was the most honest person I knew. Too honest, sometimes. Now her eyes were wide and interested.
    â€œShe didn’t exactly steal it,” I said, sighing. “Anyway, you guys, let’s forget about Francesca. What period is Espee?”
    Nisha glanced at her schedule. “Sixth. But you’re walking with us tomorrow morning, right?”
    â€œOf course I am.”
    â€œWell, good. Because, Evie? That girl is definitely a little
off.”
    I can’t tell you a whole lot about the rest of that morning because it was basically just one big blob of meeting teachers, getting textbooks, and filling out Learning Style questionnaires that were probably thrown away the second we walked out of the classroom. Most of the Hard Team teachers seemed human (or at least humanoid) and, anyway, at least they didn’t make us do any actual work. The only really interesting one was the new Art teacher, Mr. Rafferty, who Lily swore looked exactly like Orlando Bloom if he were ten years older with soul patch and a really bad haircut, but