I’ve always been what you might call a Front Row type of girl, but Trip led me all the way to the back. I slipped into the seat next to him, smiling. I couldn’t believe it. My Recipe for Success was already working. I was Leia. New Girl. Sitting in the back row next to a boy with Wish Pie eyes and floppy hair who was friends with the whole school.
And then it happened.
“Well, now. I think roll call is going to start with a big bang. Are you present, Miss—Galileo Galilei Barnes?” Mr. McGuire looked up from his sheet.
There it was. My full name in all its embarrassing glory.
For a brainy person, I can be pretty dumb. I had completely forgotten about roll call. I halfway raised my hand.
Trip looked at me and mouthed, “Galileo?”
Mr. McGuire leaned back on his desk. “I think we may have to interrupt this important roll call to bring you a message from our sponsor. Does this name have some kind of special significance or story you’d like to tell us about, Miss Barnes?”
I glanced at Trip and took a deep breath. I wasn’t used to being around people who didn’t know about Mama and my name and me. But like I said, DiDi has this thing about Saying It Like It Is.
So I did.
“Well, my mama was a hairdresser, but she had this big dream that what she really wanted to be one day was a—an astronomer. You know, like, the kind of scientist who studies the stars.” There were a few giggles in the classroom, which Mr. McGuire hushed right away. “And when I was born, she saw I had this birthmark.” I pointed to the little white star on my forehead. “So she named me Galileo Galilei after this, um, scientist guy who I guess was really into studying stars and stuff.…” I didn’t want Mr. McGuire to think I was dumb on my very first day. I had all As in science; it’s just that I’d always been so mad that Mama couldn’t find an astronomer named Kaylee or Alyssa that I never wanted to read up on that Galileo. As I waited for Mr. McGuire to say something, I added, “But everyone calls me G—”
Darn it.
“I—I mean Leia.”
Mr. McGuire looked pleased, like maybe he had made a scientific discovery himself. “Well, thank you, Miss Barnes, for your charming and articulate introduction.” He gave me a nod. “There’s a club you should look for when the Club and Activities Fair rolls around. You’ll know it when you see it—and let me know if you want to borrow some books on that Galileo guy. He did a lot more than study ‘stars and stuff.’” He went back to his list. “James Benton?”
Trip was studying my face like there was going to be a quiz on me later.
“What?” I whispered.
“Nothing—just…” He pushed the hair out of his eyes and looked at me again. “I—I liked your story.” Then he smiled. “Cool name, G-Girl.”
Before I could stop myself, I was smiling back from one side of my head to the other. Then I remembered my new Recipe for Success. Always have a little zinger ready. “Yeah, but not as cool as being named after what happens when your big toe meets a crack in the sidewalk.”
The boy sitting in front of us turned to give me a high five. “Hah! Sorry, bro—but you are named after an accident.”
“Shut up, Fender,” Trip said, but he was laughing.
“Mr. Billy Fender, is there anything you’d like to share with the class?” Mr. McGuire called out.
“No, sir,” the boy answered. “Just extending salutations to the new girl who tackled my best bud this morning.”
“Ah! Well, in light of your always-impressive vocabulary, Mr. Fender, I will allow this small disruption.” He tipped an imaginary hat to the boy, who tipped one back.
Trip shook his head, smiling, then peeked over at me a couple of times. As he leaned back into his seat, the girl who was sitting on the other side of him suddenly came into view. She had the longest, prettiest hair I’d ever seen in my life. It fell straight down to her waist like a dark curtain.
Perfectly matching her dark eyes, which were glaring right into mine.
I kind of mentioned before about how DiDi is a stickler when it comes to messing around with Mama’s recipes. Well, there is this thing I do that makes her all-out crazy. I will sneak the Love at First Salad out of the freezer before it has sat overnight, which DiDi swears is the key to making it perfect. But it’s because I like to pick out the pecans. I do this thing where I plug up my ears with my fingers so I can hear the sound of them echoing around in my head while I munch away. Whenever DiDi opens the freezer and finds her salad with little holes poked into it, she shoots me eyes like daggers.
Well, this girl next to Trip?
The look she was shooting me put DiDi’s to shame.