Freak
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When she walks into school on Monday morning with her brothers, she is surprised that no one is staring at her. (She knows she's a freak.) It takes a few moments, but she remembers that there is no reason for them to know.
She's drowning in the tension for (centuries) a moment, but then she clings to someone's "Hey, Alex, how are you?" like a lifeline. His stare sears the back of her head as she walks away. (She's thinking about what his eyes look like up-close.)
When she thinks about it (which she does—all day), she doesn't regret it; she just wishes she didn't feel so guilty.