Homework doesn’t stop for the jinx, and Zooey and I have been hard at work on our project. We’ve gone to the town library a couple of times, but our favorite research place is definitely the historical society.

“You’ll want to leave that on,” Maude calls from behind the green desk as I unzip my heavy coat at the top of the stairs. She’s got her jacket on, and a hat. So does Zooey, who managed to beat me here. She turns to look at me from one of the creaky leather chairs in front of the desk, and then turns back to face Maude. Something feels … off.

“What’s up?” I ask, sitting in the matching chair next to Zooey.

“The glossy one is worried about you,” Maude says.

I look at Zooey in amused confusion, expecting her to make some noise of objection, but instead she says, “The smart one is right. I’m worried about you. You’ve been acting … more bizarre than usual.”

I tilt my head. Bizarre? I’ve been happy. Sort of at peace with the whole jinx thing. I meet my old friends every day, they forget me, and then we do it again the next day. Things are fine. Well, as fine as they can be if you’re jinxed. I’m not sure how to respond, and settle for a school-yard-toned “So?”

“So … I feel like I keep trying to find out what’s going on with you, and you don’t talk to me even though we eat lunch together every day.”

I half laugh, half huff. “We talk every day!”

“Yeah, we talk,” she says, sounding frustrated. “But not about anything real. I mean, on your part anyway. I told you all about what happened with the Ts, and you don’t say a word about why you eat lunch in the library every day.”

“I like books.”

“I like books,” Maude interjects, “and even I get tired of their lunchtime company.”

I turn to Zooey. “You haven’t told me everything about you and the Ts! You just said you wanted to stop being mean.”

Zooey blinks at me, like I am being somehow unbelievable. “You want me to tell you more? When you haven’t told me anything about what’s going on with you? I mean, what do your parents think?” she asks. “Aren’t they worried that you’re not, like, hanging out with anyone else after school or anything? My mom’s even worried about you!”

“Your mom?” I ask, surprised. “You told your mom about me?”

“Of course I told her about you! I hang out with you every day, but I know, like, nothing about you. She wants to call your mom and talk, but I told her I’d talk to you first.”

“She can’t call my mom!”

“Why?” Zooey asks flatly. “What’s going on?”

“Because they don’t know that I’ve been … ” I hesitate, looking for a non-jinx-related word. “Eating in the library, so to speak.”

“WHAT?” Maude’s voice actually gets squeaky.

“What what?” I shoot back. “What’s the big deal? I eat in the library. Big whoop-dee-do!”

“Yeah, but you don’t whoop-dee-do anything else!” Zooey says. “You’re like … a hermit.”

“And you’re not?” I snap back.

“I have friends!” Zooey says. “They’re from … ”

“Camp. I know,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Don’t make fun!” Zooey says, sounding younger than I’ve heard her before. “Camp is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“Getting off point,” Maude says in a low sing-song.

“You have to talk to your parents!” Zooey practically yells at me. “And me, too. You have to talk to me. You have to tell me what’s going on with you!”

I wish, so much, that I could tell her. But I can’t risk making the jinx worse. So I tell her something that has nothing to do with the jinx, something I might not have realized until I blurt it out.

“I’m homesick. For Brooklyn. And I haven’t told my parents because I don’t want them to feel bad for moving me here.”

“So they feel bad,” Zooey says. “So what? They’re grown-ups; they know how to deal with it.”

“And they would feel worse if they knew you were keeping this all inside,” Maude says.

“I guess you’re right,” I say.

“And us,” Zooey says. “I mean, you don’t have to, like, share everything, but some things.”

“Okay,” I say, a weight lifting off my chest. And I feel that I should say something right here, right now. Some truth I haven’t shared.

“I’m kind of a nerd,” I finally announce, my voice shaking a little.

Maude and Zooey exchange yet another look. Zooey says, “Yeah, we kind of picked up on that.”

“No,” I say, “like, I really like that series … ”

“Tilde’s Realm?” Maude asks. “We know.”

“You read it every day in the library,” Zooey adds. “And we’ve actually talked about it. Remember, my older brother likes it, too?”

“And I like cat T-shirts.”

“Yeah, and striped leggings. I’ve noticed,” Zooey says. “Why would that be some sort of secret?”

I give her an incredulous look and blurt out, “Are you kidding? You’re telling me we’d be friends if we weren’t, like, forced to hang out because neither of us has anywhere to go besides the library and this place?”

“For your information,” Zooey says icily, after a long moment of silence, “I don’t have to eat in the library.”

“Oh,” I say. Then, “Really?”

“Really,” Zooey says firmly.

“Oh,” I say again. If Zooey was willing to accept me just the way I am, why had I assumed my real friends wouldn’t?