"There is a new student at our school this week called Dennis," Meg Flanders wrote in her class journal. "He is really quite odd. He writes with a pencil that is worn down to the nub—I think he's scared of the pencil sharpener. He was staring at it with big eyes, and before we showed him where it was, he was trying to dip it in whiteout!

"He is from England, so that might account for some of it, but he is strange in other ways, too. I could have sworn that the first time he was told to get poster board from the supply closet, we turned around and there it was on his desk! I've got to get him to teach me that!

Dennis is a little shy, but perfectly friendly. Most of the boys here are idiots. At least Dennis is nice. I'm going to invite him around for tea when I get to know him better."

Meg looked up. Was the last part true? What were the chances that she was actually going to make friends with a boy no one else liked?

But then, did she have anything to lose? Meg knew in her heart no one was planning on inviting the daydreaming daughter of a goat herder to any of the cool parties. She had known it since she had started at this horrid secondary school. Something kept her trying, because it was her only hope.

But now there was small, mousy Dennis, who had thought goats were neat when she described them. Sure, she could poke fun at him and try to earn some normality points with the rest of the class. Yet, that somehow wasn't in her nature, part of the reason she failed to impress the other members of her year. In making friends, as in everything else she did, Meg Flanders was going to take the direct route.

Dennis was approaching her desk as she finished writing. "Meg? The teacher announced break five minutes ago."

Meg smiled up at the new kid. This break was going to be different. Meg would not scurry to be a part of the huddle of popular kids, where she always got pushed to the outside. She and Dennis would make a nice little huddle, with maybe a couple others.

Except not.

"Hey, Dennis!" called Francis O'Rourke. "How did you do that with the posterboard? I swear I saw it fly into your hands!"

"Denny, my man! Welcome to Hillview! Did you really turn a teacher's wig purple?" asked a girl who Meg had never seen approach a new kid in her life.

"Dennis, right? Can you control it, or does it just happen?"

There went her first real friend, slipping through her fingers. She pulled him into a corner. "Listen, Dennis, you need to be careful. Francis' dad is a reporter. Whatever secret you have, don't tell him, or he could have you locked up in a science lab running tests for the next five years," warned Meg, who read a lot of science fiction.

To her surprise, Dennis smiled broadly. "That would be a great way to accomplish my mission!" At this point, the new kid was absolutely engulfed in excited fourth years.

Meg looked down, not bothering to ask. She had lost interest; she would not be on the outside of yet another huddle which now surrounded her last hope. Dennis had some sort of mission that prevented him from listening to her advice. If he did get locked up, tough noogies—she had tried her best. As for Meg, she was back to the same old mission she'd had before he had come.