Why hadn’t Jeremy stopped to talk?

Why, why, why?

I worked this question over all morning. First, during homeroom, I convinced myself that he’d broken up with Stacey because he wanted to go out with someone else — but that someone else was not me. I always like to get the really negative thinking out of the way first.

During my first class, math, I managed to start thinking more positively. Maybe he’d been late for class. Or he had been preoccupied with thoughts about some project he was working on. Maybe he didn’t want to talk unless we could really talk.

All through social studies I made up conversations in my head, conversations that Jeremy and I might have. In my imagination, he and I talked so easily about the situation.

By lunchtime, I had decided that the only reason he hadn’t stopped to talk was because it was just too early in the morning. He’d looked sort of sleepy, when I thought about it. Most likely he just hadn’t been in the mood to talk.

As I entered the cafeteria, I scanned the tables for Jeremy. When I saw him across the room, I felt a little jolt in my stomach. He was sitting with a bunch of guys, guys I’ve known for years. Pete Black was there and Alan Gray (the most obnoxious boy in our school — maybe in our universe) and Trevor Sandbourne (an old boyfriend of mine — very cute). Cary Retlin, who has lived in Stoneybrook for only a while, was there too. Cary’s very mischievous, and always has a few tricks up his sleeve. I wondered how much those guys knew about what was going on with Jeremy’s love life. Do guys talk about stuff like that? It’s hard to imagine.

I caught Jeremy’s eye and gave him a wave. He smiled at me and waved back.

But did he stand up and start walking toward me?

No.

And did he wave me over to sit at his table?

Nope.

He turned back to Alan and started talking again, ignoring me completely.

Whoa.

I just stood there for a moment, staring. I was having a hard time understanding what had just happened. But it was obvious. Jeremy didn’t want to talk to me now any more than he had in the morning.

“What’s the matter, Claud?”

Erica was behind me.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” she continued. “What are you looking — oh.” She followed my glance and saw Jeremy.

Erica knew how I felt about him. And she knew he and Stacey had broken up. She tugged at my sleeve. “Stop staring, Claudia,” she whispered. “Come on.”

I shook my head in order to clear it and followed her to the hot-lunch line. I don’t even buy hot lunches, but I followed her anyway. I was in a daze.

“Have you talked to him?” she asked as she accepted a plate of macaroni and cheese.

I shook my head.

“So you don’t know what’s going on yet?” She chose an orange from the fruit display.

I shook my head again.

Erica nodded and picked up a carton of chocolate milk.

“What about Stacey? Have you talked to her?”

One more head-shake.

She raised her eyebrows. “No wonder you’re a mess,” she said. “Although, I must say you look awesome today.” She gave my outfit an appreciative glance. “Come on, let’s sit down.” She paid for her meal and picked up her tray. Then she turned to scan the cafeteria again. “There’s Stacey, sitting with Rachel.”

I spotted Stacey. She was talking and laughing with a new friend, Rachel Griffin. She didn’t look like someone who had just gone through a devastating breakup.

“I — I don’t think I’m ready to talk to her,” I said. My feelings were so complicated. I was still hoping to work things out with Stacey and be her friend again, but that was going to take some time.

“Then let’s sit with Kristy and Mary Anne and Abby,” suggested Erica. She led me through the cafeteria to their table.

“Beautiful outfit, Claudia,” Mary Anne said as she moved over to make space for me. “Have you talked to him yet?”

“Talked to who?” Kristy interrupted. “Jeremy?”

“Shhh!” I said.

“What?”

I looked around. “Somebody might hear you.”

“So?” said Kristy. “Everybody knows they broke up.” Mary Anne gave Kristy a Look. “What? Come on, it’s common knowledge. And it’s not like Stacey’s too upset about it. After all, Ethan was there to comfort her,” said Kristy.

I glanced at Mary Anne.

“I forgot to tell you,” she said. “Ethan was at the party.”

“That must have been interesting for Stacey,” Abby put in. “Wasn’t that math teacher there too? The one she had the humongous crush on?”

“Mr. Ellenburg?” I asked.

Mary Anne nodded. “It sounds as if he’s going to be teaching here again. And guess who else turned up at the party. Toby, that guy she met in Sea City.”

“Get out,” I said. I glanced at Stacey. She must have had one very wild night. I would have loved to hear about it from her. But we weren’t talking that way yet. Maybe someday soon I’d hear the whole story. And maybe I’d find out what was going on between her and Ethan. Were they back together? Was that why she’d broken up with Jeremy?

Jeremy. For a few seconds I’d been able to forget about him. But just thinking of his name gave me a knot in my stomach. I glanced at his table and saw him laughing and pounding Alan on the shoulder. Alan had probably just done something gross or stupid, like throwing a pat of butter up in the air so it would stick on the ceiling.

Then I glanced at Stacey again. She and Rachel were deep in conversation. She was probably telling Rachel what had happened at the party.

I had thought my troubles would be over if Jeremy and Stacey broke up. Instead, I felt even more mixed up. And I missed talking to both of them.

Just then, the bell rang. As soon as Erica and I left the cafeteria, she turned to me. “I have to tell you something,” she said. “I had another fight with my parents last night.”

“About the search?” I asked. Erica was adopted, and lately she has begun to wonder about her birth parents, especially her mother. She loves her adoptive family very much, but she is curious about her biological roots. Her parents (the ones who adopted her) understand, but they think she should wait until she’s eighteen to search for her birth mother.

Erica nodded. “I know they mean well. But they can’t understand what it’s like. Only other adopted people can.” She looked upset.

I reached out to pat her shoulder. “So what will you do?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Last night I even went online and checked out some of the adoption-search sites. They have all these stories and pictures of families who were reunited. Not every story has a happy ending, but I still want to try.”

“Do the sites help you find birth parents?”

She nodded. “They can. But you have to fill in all this information about yourself. I’m not ready to do that behind my parents’ backs. That wouldn’t be right.”

“Wow, that must be so hard,” I said, trying to put myself in Erica’s place. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It’s great to be able to talk to you about it,” Erica replied. “That’s enough for now.”

We’d reached the computer lab by then, and I followed Erica in. I was glad at least one person wanted to talk to me.