On the way to her house, Sydney tries to bully me into joining a club. She has a plan. She wants us to join five clubs, one for every day of the week. The tricky part is choosing the clubs that have the right people.

When we get to Sydney's house, her mother meets us at the door. Her eyes widen when she sees me and she looks me over, but doesn't say anything. She wants to hear all about our day, how long I've lived in town, and asks little sideways questions about my family, so she can figure out if I'm the kind of friend she wants for her daughter. I don't mind. I think it's nice that she cares.

Sydney shows me around the house and tells me all about the cool lounge in the basement that her parents have just finished setting up. Armed with a family-sized bag of Chaaaaps and sodas, we retreat to the "lounge." You can hardly even tell it's a basement. It's covered in carpeting nicer than what we have in our living room. A monster TV glows in a corner, and there's a pool tables and exercise equipment. It doesn't even smell like a basement.

Sydney hops on the treadmill and continues scheming. She isn't finished with her survey of Keystone's social scene, but she thinks that maybe choir will be a good place to start. Maybe we can try out for the musical. I turn on the TV and eat her chips.

"What should we do?" Sydney says. "What do you want to join? Maybe we could tutor at the elementary school." She increases the speed of the treadmill. "Isn't Alyssa in the anime club? She's your sister, right? But she does all those sports too, doesn't she? I could never do sports. I fall down too easily. What do you want to do?"

"Nothing," I say. "The clubs are stupid. I get enough of Alyssa at home. I even share a room with her. Want some chips?"

She speeds up the treadmill even more and breaks into a sprint. It's so loud I can hardly hear the TV. Sydney wags her finger at me. Hanging back is a common mistake most freshmen make, she says. I shouldn't be intimidated. I have to get involved, become part of the school. That's what all the popular kids do. She turns down the treadmill and wipes her brow with a towel that hangs off the side of the machine. After a few minutes of cooling down, she hops off.

"A hundred calories," she crows. "Want to try?"

I shudder and hold out the bag of chips to her. She plops down on the couch beside me. "So, I've been meaning to ask you," she says. "Your brother and sisters all go to our school, right? But…none of you even look related. Are you all adopted or something? I-If you don't mind me asking."

This question smacks me in the face out of nowhere like a ball in gym class. "Sort of. It's a foster home." I open my soda. "Basically, we belong to the state and the social workers just place us wherever they deem appropriate. My foster mom's husband died of cancer a few years ago, and she can't have kids of her own. So I guess she decided to become a foster parent and take a bunch of troubled kids under her wing. Some days I wonder if she ever regrets it."

"Why did your parents put you in foster care?"

"I don't know. All I know is my mother died. I never knew my dad."

"Do you think he'll come back for you?"

I take a drink from my soda and pause. "No."

Her face falls. "I'm sorry."

At least a minute of silence passes between us, then she picks up a pen and piece of paper. "We need to make plans," she says solemnly. She writes "GOALS" and draws a line underneath it. "We won't get anywhere without knowing our goals. What are yours, Lori?"

"To get out of high school alive?"

She frowns. "Hey, come on, don't be so negative."

"Why shouldn't I be?" I say. "Most of my life, I've been treated like an outcast and I'm sure everyone at that school thinks I'm a freak, too. I just want to blend into the shadows until I'm no longer a ward of the state and can do whatever I want."

"I don't think you're a freak."

"What?"

"I really don't," Sydney says. "You're like the most chill person I've met so far this year. I just want to find a way to instill some confidence in you, you know? And to top it off, you're beautiful!"

Beautiful? I don't think anyone has really said that to me before. "You really think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, you're smokin' hot! No homo, by the way. But really! Just don't be afraid to show some skin, girl. If we changed up your wardrobe a bit, I bet you'd get all the boys. You should let me do your makeup one of these days. Hide those dark circles under your eyes. Um, I mean, no offense."

I feel a small smile creep across my face. "It's fine. I have trouble sleeping most nights."

Sydney giddily jumps up from the couch. "Stay right there. I'll be right back!"

She runs up the stairs, and within moments, she's coming back down with a big trash bag slung over her shoulder.

"These are clothes we were going to donate them, since I don't wear them anymore," Sydney says. "But I figured you would like them, and I think we're about the same size."

I open the bag and pick through its contents. The clothes are practically brand new and most definitely didn't come from the thrift store Mom likes to shop at.

One of the shirts in the bag catches my eye. It's a long sleeve, navy blue off-the-shoulder top. Even though I hate wearing low-cut tops, this one actually seems kind of cute.

I've always been weirdly drawn to the color blue. Even on my first day of kindergarten, I had a baby blue shirt, shoes, and backpack, while most other five-year-old girls were swathed in pink. I never liked the color pink that much. For some reason, it just reminds me of something missing. Maybe the fact that I'll never truly live a normal life.

"Ooooh, that one was my favorite!" Sydney says. "Wanna try it on? There's a full body mirror over here. Don't worry, I won't look."

She turns to face the wall as I change my shirt. The shirt shows off my shoulders and even the gem thing on my chest. A little too much skin for my liking. I'm not sure if I like it.

"What is that?"

I follow Sydney's gaze to the gem. "It's nothing," I say as I try to cover it with my hands.

"No, really, what is it?" She pries my hands away from my chest. "Is this like one of those things that Indian ladies wear on their foreheads?"

I let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't know what it is. I've always had it and I can't take it out."

"Well, it's pretty," Sydney grins. "It makes you unique. Anyway, you can take those clothes home. Next time, I'll show you some makeup tricks."

This all seems too good to be true. Why is this girl being so nice to me? I can't help myself. I feel happy tears coming on. A faint blue glow from my chest illuminates the room.

"Thank you," I say. "For today. This is actually the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Don't mention it!" I notice tears welling up in her eyes. "Hey, don't cry. You're gonna make me cry, too!"

I sniffle and wipe my eyes. "Sorry."

"Hey, your…thingy!" She points to the gem. "Does it normally do that?"

"Sometimes."

"That's actually pretty cool! That would make a sweet night light."

I giggle. "It gets kind of annoying."

Sydney is everything I wish I was. She's happy, driven, aerobically fit. She has a nice mom and an awesome TV. For once, I actually feel like a normal teenager. Staying at a friend's house, eating junk, talking and sharing clothes. Maybe I actually have a true friend now. I've already opened up to her. I probably shouldn't let her or anyone all the way in just yet.

Sydney's mom offers me a ride home.

My goal is to go home and take a nap.