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good-boy noises, and then-as Anthony predicted-she called on him. Suddenly he became aware of his shoelaces pressing down on his feet through his sneakers, and his T-shirt felt like it now weighed about twenty pounds. He took a deep breath and pretended he was sitting in Rae’s bedroom. No pressure. Just the two of them.
    Okay. Okay. He put his finger under the first word of the sentence-and he could almost feel Rae tracing the word on his back. “A,” he said. The image of Jesse flashed into his mind-“friend.” He hesitated when he moved to the next word. It was one of those short ones, the ones he always felt like he should know, thatanyone should know.
    Just focus, he told himself. “Of,” he managed to get out a second later. Then the image of all the junk in his closet popped into his head-“mine,” followed by the image of a chain saw-“saw.” He could almost feel Rae’s finger pressing on his skin through his T-shirt again-“a.” He got a mental picture of Big Bird-“bird’s,” then a nest in a tree-
    “nest.” And he was done with the sentence.
    Anthony pulled in a deep breath and moved his finger to the first word of the next one. He got the picture of the clay sculpture he and Rae had made together-a little elephant holding on to the tail of a big elephant. “After.” The word just popped out of his mouth. Instantly a new image appeared-the stick figure on a men’s-room door-“he.”
    The bell rang. Every Bluebird in the room scrambled up. For the first time ever, Anthony wished the class had lasted just a little longer, long enough for him to finish the second sentence. He gave a snort as he pulled on his jean jacket. He was totally losing it.
    “Anthony,” Ms. Goyer called as he started for the door. Okay, yeah, he’d wanted class to go on, like, a minute longer, but that didn’t mean he was hoping the teacher would ask him to stay. Reluctantly he turned around.
    “Great job again today,” she told him. “You’re obviously doing some work at home.”
    “Got a tutor,” he muttered.
    Goyer smiled like it was the best news she’d ever heard. Which was kind of pathetic. Anthony smiled back at her-just to be decent.
    “Good for you,” she answered.
    Anthony swung his backpack over his shoulder. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, so he gave a little half wave and hurried out the door. As he headed to the main building for math, a couple of pom-pom girls passed him, the plastic of the pompoms making a whispering sound.
    Wonder how it would feel to be out on the field and have girls like that cheering for me. The thought came into his head like a scene from a movie. Except in the movie, the girls all looked like Rae. And Anthony was in a Sanderson Prep football uniform. He was on the best team in the state and-He shook his head, trying to make the vision disappear, but it stayed with him. Maybe Rae was right. Maybe he actually did have a shot at making the Sanderson team.
    If he wasn’t too much of a wuss to show up at their practice after school.
    “Anthony’s a really private kind of guy,” Rae told Yana as she drove out of the Sanderson parking lot on Friday afternoon. “So don’t tell him you went on this little fact-finding mission with me, okay? I’m not planning to tell him anything at all unless I actually manage to track down his father.”
    “Got it,” Yana answered. She pulled her collar-length bleached blond hair into a stubby ponytail with one hand and drove with the other. The way Yana drove, Rae thought it would be better if she had three hands to control the wheel, but she kept the thought to herself.
    “How’re things with your dad?” Rae asked instead.
    “You wouldn’t ask if you’d ever met him.” Yana made a screeching left turn. “Just picture your father.” She shot a glance at Rae. “You got it?”
    “Uh-huh,” Rae said.
    “Now all you have to do is imagine the exact opposite, and you’ll have mine,” Yana explained.
    “You mean