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hen Sunday arrived, my stomach felt like a twisted-up dish rag. I couldn’t even eat breakfast because I was so nervous. I’d spent the night imagining fists and burning bottles. But Mom made me choke down some maple oatmeal, and I felt a little better—much to my chagrin—after I ate it. Sometimes, it would be really nice if she didn’t know best.
Marcie, Nicole, Tyrice, and Micah were already at Shady Run when we arrived. They’d opened up the building and were painting the coatroom. We’d all agreed that we wanted the school to look as nice as it could, but I also knew they needed to keep busy. People don’t paint at 9:00 a.m. on a Sunday because it’s fun.
The students were in their desks listening as Charlotte give them a lesson in manners. “Now, we know people won’t be able to greet
