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it, I recorded last night’s presidential debate!”
    The entire class groaned collectively, and mine was the loudest groan of all.
    “Aw, come on, you guys. It’s not every year we get to go through a presidential election while taking government. And especially to be so lucky as to have the daughter of one of the candidates in class with us.”
    Suddenly everyone was looking at me. I sunk down in my chair and said, “Can’t I test out of this class or something?”
    Mrs. Wilson laughed. “I’m afraid not, Grace, but we would really appreciate any insight you have for us since we didn’t get to hear your speech yesterday.”
    The weight of everything that happened yesterday, plus Ethan’s glare burning a hole in my back, along with all of the laughter in the classroom finally got to be too much and I snapped. Instead of mumbling a short version of the speech I’d prepared for yesterday, I went back to work on my Count Andrew drawing and said, “Insight? Okay, how about this? My dad’s an asshole. Vote for the other guy.”
    Everyone in the room let out a gasp and then the laughter started again. Mrs. Wilson tried to quiet everyone down as she looked at me. “Grace,” she said with more concern in her voice than anger, “you know that kind of language isn’t permitted here.”
    I didn’t bother to look up from my cast. I didn’t want to see the looks on anyone’s faces. “Sorry, but I could only think of a handful of words to describe him, and I promise you all of the others were much worse.”
    The class was roaring now, and I finally looked up to meet Mrs. Wilson’s eyes. “Detention, right?” I asked her. “That’s a first. I hope it pisses him off.”
    Mrs. Wilson surprised me by smiling instead of frowning. It was a smile full of pity. “Actually, Grace, I know this isn’t like you, so I’m sending you to the guidance counselor instead of detention.”
    Mrs. Wilson held out a slip of paper to me and then asked for a volunteer to help me with my books and make sure I got there safely. One guess who my escort was.
    “I’m sorry, Grace,” Ethan apologized once we were in the empty hall.
    “Sorry for knocking me over, or sorry for getting mad at me because I’m the only girl in this school that doesn’t worship you?”
    Surprisingly, it was getting easier to argue with Ethan. Probably because he made me so mad.
    “Both,” Ethan mumbled. “Except I wasn’t mad at you, I was just frustrated. You make it very difficult to help you.”
    “There’s an easy solution to that,” I said.
    “I can’t just leave you alone. There’s something seriously wrong with you. You haven’t been yourself for about a month now, and you’re getting worse.”
    “That’s not…” He was dead on. I was so shocked I couldn’t string a whole sentence together. “I—I’m fine.”
    “You don’t have to lie to me. I know you’re not all right. I can feel it.”
    “What?” I gasped.
    Ethan looked as startled as I was by his choice of words. “I mean I can see it,” he said quickly. “It’s obvious. Even Mrs. Wilson sees it, or I’d be taking you to the principal’s office right now.” Ethan stopped walking and stared at me with determined, searching eyes. “Tell me what’s going on with you, Grace.”
    “I—I—” My face burned as Ethan waited for me to spill all my private struggles to him. Like I needed that! I was already a pathetic mess in his mind. Did he really need to know what my home life was like, too? “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m just not comfortable talking about this with you.”
    Ethan looked up at the door we now stood in front of and sighed, suddenly as frustrated with me as he’d been before class. “You should take this visit seriously,” he told me. He headed back to class without so much as a good-bye.
    . . . . .
    Lunch was half over by the time Dr. Carroll let me escape the guidance office. He wasn’t so bad, I guess. I mean, at least he’s a real psychiatrist