It was a complicated feeling. One that I sure wasn’t going to be able to sort out before class started. On the one hand, Kandi had gotten Troy Pilkers kicked off the bus. On the other, she had spied on me, followed me, and nosed her way into stuff that was none of her business. And worst of all, she talked. What a mess she’d made, tellin’ folks about my writing. And now that she knew where I went after school, everybody would know!

I headed for the media center to hide out, picturing how the day would go. I could just see it—kids whispering, their eyes scooting around, watching me. That grew into me imagining kids whispering and pointing, with nobody even bothering to do the sly-eye. Soon my mind was in a house of terrors, with kids ballooning in size, pointing and laughing. HHHA-HA-HA! HHHA-HA-HA!

Then a voice broke into my house of terrors. “She’s kidding, right?”

Poof. The laughing kids disappeared, and I was outside the media center with a real boy standing right next to me. The one I’d seen working at Ms. Raven’s computer.

His hair was wild, and his backpack looked like it weighed more than he did. He was grabbing the shoulder straps tight. “It’s going to be closed all day?” he said, pointing to a sign taped to the door.

I would have been upset, too, but I got distracted by the strap where his hand had been.

It had a name written on it.

Isaac Monroe.

A bell went clanging inside my head. And then Kandi’s voice started clanging beside it. If you don’t watch out, you’ll wind up like Isaac Monroe.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what Kandi had meant. He looked pretty normal to me. Well, except for the backpack making him look like a pack mule. And his hair making him look like a wild sea anemone.

“Why are you staring at me?” he said.

“I…” But before I could think of something to say, he clomped away.

I could feel my cheeks burn. I hadn’t just been looking, I’d been fool-faced staring. And even though I was kicking myself for doing it, I was mostly mad at Kandi.

Why’d she have to say anything about Isaac Monroe?

Why’d she go around talking about folks?

Thinking that made all of me hot. Like steam was building up inside of me. The feeling I’d had on the bus was long gone. This was Kandi’s fault. If she had just left me alone with my stories, nobody would’ve thought I was writing about them! But she nosed and nosed and then went and said stuff like, If you don’t watch out, you’ll wind up like Isaac Monroe. Even before I knew who he was, I thought there was something off about Isaac Monroe, all because of Kandi.

Well, Isaac Monroe might look like a wild anemone pack mule, but at least he didn’t paint his fingernails like candy corn or turkey tails!

I steamed along looking for Kandi ’cause I’d had enough. And I knew what she was doing! Right that instant she was tellin’ someone that Lincoln Jones’s ma worked in Crazy Town.

Like it was anyone’s business?

It wasn’t hard to find her. She was on the playground talking to a group of kids—boys and girls—waving her hands through the air and laughing.

The other kids were laughing, too.

I ran at them, full speed ahead. “Stop it!” I shouted, plowing into the group like a runaway train. I looked right at Kandi. “Stop nosing in other folks’ lives, stop following them around, and stop talking about stuff that has nothing to do with you!”

Kandi did stop.

Everybody else stopped, too.

And they all stared at me.

“You think it’s something to make fun of,” I shouted, “but it’s not!”

Kandi blinked at me, not saying a word. But the other kids started asking, “What’s he talking about?” “Make fun of what?” “Why’s he so mad?” “Kandi, what’s going on?”

Kandi just shook her head, then turned and gave me those stupid puppy-dog eyes. Like, Oh, you poor, sad boy.

“Stop that!” I shouted at her. And because it felt like the world wasn’t quite spinning the way it’s supposed to and I needed to get my footing back, I said, “And what’s so weird about Isaac Monroe?”

Everybody turned back to Kandi.

“I never said he was weird,” she said softly. “He’s just…a loner.”

“So what?” I shouted.

“Calm down, Lincoln,” she said. “Really, it’s okay.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

When it sank in that she was telling the truth, an oops flattened out my face. And when I stepped back, I saw that the group was about twice as big as it had been when I’d come crashing in. Colby was there. So was Benny. And Hank and Troy. And Rayne.

“What’s wrong?” Rayne asked.

“Nothing,” I said, backpedaling, then running away.

What I meant, though, was everything.