Kristy Thomas is attempting to drive me insane.

I know it.

Sunday passes without incident. No visit from the police. No visit from Watson or Elizabeth. I keep away from the windows, but I know Kristy stays out of her front yard. She's avoiding me. Snubbing me. Punishing me.

So are Tiffany and Maria. We don't talk. An eerie silence has overtaken the house. We move through the rooms without acknowledgment, breezing through like ghosts. Maybe that's what I am. A ghost. A shadow of Shannon.

At ten-thirty, Tiffany storms passed me on the stairs, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She's on her way to work and afterward will take refuge at Frannie's house. I heard her tell Maria. She doesn't tell me. She doesn't even look at me as she sweeps by on the stairs. I am invisible to her. To Maria, too. She remains locked in her bedroom and every so often I hear her speaking to Astrid. I also remain locked away. Locked away inside my room and locked away inside myself.

I don't even think my parents came home Saturday night.

I work half-heartedly on my school assignments; I'm still slipping behind. Just barely, but comments have been made. Wes calls four times throughout the day. I fake my way through cheerful conversations. After the third call, I throw up in the wastebasket.

That is Sunday.

Now it's Monday.

Lindsey doesn't know yet. She acts no different during European history, talking incessantly about nothing at all. She doesn't seem bothered that I never respond. She keeps talking. On and on. It's the most anyone's spoken to me in over twenty-four hours.

Abby knows. She doesn't say anything, but when she passes me in the hallway, her eyes are pitying and she offers a slight, reassuring smile. After the Saturday night scene with Anna, I expected her to avoid me. That's how I know Kristy told her.

I've never eaten lunch alone. There has always been someone. Today I am alone. Perhaps I should become accustomed to aloneness. When I am exposed, my lies and deceptions aired out for all to see, I will wish to be alone. I will wish to be invisible. I will wish for the world to swallow me up and conceal me.

I spread out my napkin and begin setting out my lunch. Lindsey and Greer are across the cafeteria sitting with Karl and some other drama kids. Everyone at their table's laughing. Not far away, Meg's eating with the vile Kara Ferguison. Their heads are bent together, conspiratorially. Kristy and Abby are near the salad bar with Amanda Kerner. Kristy doesn't look my way, no matter how long I stare.

A lunch bag plops down in front of me. I glance up and there is awful, awful Sally White. She smirks down at me.

"Well, well, well," she says in that cool, disinterested voice of hers. "Is this irony, Starshine?"

I bite into my ham and cheese sandwich and don't answer.

Sally pulls out a chair and sits down, uninvited as usual. "Spat with Kat?" she asks.

I shrug and continue eating.

"What tipped me off, you see," Sally says, ignoring that I'm ignoring her, "is that Kat moved all the way to the front during microbiology. Whatever could have broken up the dream team?" she asks, polishing her apple on her school sweater. "Did Kat learn a secret? About a boyfriend?"

The ham and cheese has turned to sawdust in my mouth. I drop the sandwich and push it away, feeling queasy.

"Thank you, I will finish that," Sally says, reaching for my sandwich. "Our cook packed me olive loaf. Offensive, is it not?" Sally bites into my sandwich and starts chewing. "Oh, this is good, Starshine," she tells me.

"You're really obnoxious, you know that?" I reply and begin repacking the rest of my lunch before Sally steals that, too.

"I know," Sally answers and takes another bite of my sandwich, "but I am enjoying myself unlike – " Sally points at me, "you. Or – " Sally waves her finger around, "anyone in our general vicinity."

I cram my lunch into my messenger bag. "I am glad my misery pleases you so," I snap and push back from the table.

"Oh, leave the theatrics to Greer," Sally scoffs. "The world will not end because you don't eat lunch with Kat and Abigross. Build a bridge and get over it."

I pull my chair back up to the table and lean forward. "I am not being dramatic," I hiss at her. She might as well know. Everyone else will soon enough. "My secret boyfriend is a twenty-six year old math teacher at Stoneybrook Middle School who thinks I am a twenty year old college student. Kristy's threatening to call the cops!"

Sally takes another bite of the sandwich and chews, thoughtfully. "Well, that is a problem then," she says, still in her bored voice. "Huh."

That's all she has to say? Huh. She really is worthless. "You've been a big help," I tell her.

"Well, there's really nothing left for me to say," Sally replies. "Kristy's already threatened you with legal action. I figure she's also threatened to tell her parents. She's definitely yelled at you. And then I figure you already know you're a liar and quite possibly a terrible person. So, really, what more is there to say?"

"You don't understand," I snap, leaning forward again. "No one understands!"

"I understand that you're a liar."

I glance around, ensuring no one's eavesdropping. I've chosen a fairly secluded table and nobody's nearby. "You can mock me all you like, but Wes loves me. Me. Not my age. We're in love and nothing will change that."

"So…you're delusional in addition to being a liar and a sneak?"

I glower at her.

"Tell the truth," she says.

"Excuse me?"

"Tell the truth. Admit that you're a liar and a fraud. Come on, Starshine, you don't honestly believe your little math geek's actually going to stick around when he finds out he's been humping a high schooler. Think of someone other than yourself and your burning loins. If you're going to rip out the man's heart, you could at least save him the bother of taking a mug shot."

"You really are worthless, you know that?" I tell her and push away from the table. I swing my messenger bag over my shoulder and stride away, leaving Sally to finish lunch alone.

When I sit down beside Abby in geology, she has her eyes trained on her textbook, hurrying to complete the homework. She doesn't look up as she says, "I'm not going to lecture you. I really have no room to judge you and neither does Kristy. She's just hurt. If I could afford to be, I'd be hurt too. But right now, whatever it is you're doing is really low on my priority list. I'm sorry if that makes me a bad friend."

"It doesn't," I reply, taking out my own homework. I slide it over to Abby.

And that's all.

No one wants a ride from me after school. I should find Lindsey and tell her what's going on. She knows Wes is older. She doesn't have a problem with it. She'd be one person on my side. But I know where Lindsey is. She's in the yearbook room doing the work I should be working on, too. She's covered for me for weeks and never complained. I wonder if I'll ever make it up to her.

I ditch Italian club, just like I ditch yearbook. No one wants me at home and there's likely no one there anyway. So, I drive to the Stoneybrook Public Library and bury myself in the stacks, hidden behind towers of books, attempting to catch up once and for all. School used to be my life. Now it's simply a nuisance.

I call home at five o' clock, but no one answers.

Then I call Wes.

"I've been trying to call you," he informs me.

"I'm at the library," I reply. "I didn't think to call earlier."

"Oh…well, I understand," he says. "Where are you now?"

"At a pay phone outside the library."

"Do you want to come over? We can do something."

"Sure. Hey, have you gotten any weird phone calls or anything?"

There's a short pause. "Uh…no. Why?"

"Nothing. I'll be over in five minutes," I say, quickly, and hang up.

I'm beginning to suspect Kristy Thomas is full of hot air and empty threats.

But then maybe that's what she wants me to suspect.

I park in the lot around the corner from Wes' building. Usually I park in the nearer lot, but what if that Lauren girl's watching? Maybe she'll see my car and call the cops, so they can catch us in the act. I don't know her, so I don't know what she's capable of.

Wes greets me at the door with a kiss. He's wearing his jacket.

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask him.

Wes looks surprised. "I thought we were going out," he answers, shutting the door behind me. "I thought we'd have dinner and catch a movie. I'm starving, aren't you?"

I shrug, nonchalant, even though I've barely eaten in two days. "I don't really feel like going out. Let's order pizza." I open the refrigerator and remove a diet soda. I pop the top and take a sip. I manage to do all this very casually.

"You never want to go out," Wes says, slightly irritated. "All we ever do is hang around the apartment. We don't go anywhere anymore. Is something going on? You've been acting strange since Thanksgiving."

"I'm a little overwhelmed with school right now, that's all," I snap at him. "What's wrong with hanging around the apartment? Why do we have to go out? Don't you like being alone with me? Don't you like having sex with me?"

"Of course I do! What does that have to do with anything? I'd just like to leave this apartment occasionally. Are you embarrassed to be seen with me or something? Is that it? Or is something else going on?" Wes pauses and his face drains of color. "Are you cheating on me?" he demands.

"No! I would never do that to you!" I shout. I can't believe we're fighting. We never fight. Maybe this is the end. Maybe he's going to leave me. He'll toss me aside just like Mick did. "Are you breaking up with me?" I demand.

"What? No! Why, are you breaking up with me?" Wes asks, his face still void of color.

"No!"

Wes and I stare at each other.

"You aren't cheating on me?" Wes asks, his tone a mixture of panic and suspicion.

"I'm not cheating on you. I can't believe you'd accuse me of that. I thought you loved me!"

"I do love you," Wes insists. "And you're acting kind of scary again."

"And you're acting kind of like a jerk."

The color returns to Wes' face, bleeding bright red across his cheeks. I feel my own chest grow warm. I am awful. I am horrible. How can I be so nasty and cruel when I know what is coming? When Wes learns the truth, this is how he'll remember me, as a shrill harpy, not as the girl who needs him and loves him and has proven both to him in his bed.

"I'm sorry, Wes," I tell him, crossing the room. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head against his chest. "I'm so sorry. I've been under so much stress lately. We can do whatever you want. We can go out. Let's go out."

"I don't think I want to go out anymore."

My breath catches in my throat. I can't breathe for a moment. I close my eyes, still pressed against Wes. "How can I make this up to you? Do you want to go into the bedroom?"

"That's…that's not going to solve anything," Wes replies, hesitantly. He places his hands on my back, gently. "Maybe…we need a little time to cool down. You could come back tomorrow and we can talk then."

"You want me to leave?" I demand, stepping out of his arms. "Fine," I say, picking up my messenger bag and lifting it onto my shoulder. "Fine," I repeat. Then I realize I'm being nasty and unfair again. "You're right. We need time to think. That's a perfectly reasonable request on your part. I'll come over tomorrow." I kiss him, letting my lips linger awhile on his, so he will remember. He kisses me back, which gives me hope.

I don't go home.

There are only two places I can go. One is the library. The other is Lindsey's house. I choose the latter. The Duprees are eating dinner when I arrive on their doorstep. Lindsey brings me into the dining room and Dr. Dupree sets an extra place. No one acts like it's odd I've arrived unannounced and uninvited. I guess the Drs. Dupree know about my parents. I guess they feel sorry for me.

I stay at Lindsey's until ten-thirty. We finish our homework in her bedroom, then watch television in the living room with her grandparents. She talks some about Ross. She talks about the Winter Ball. She invites me to come along with her and her grandmother to buy a dress. I shrug. Lindsey doesn't press the subject. And she doesn't ask what's wrong with me. And I don't volunteer the information. I've told more of the truth to Lindsey than to anyone – except maybe Sally White (what was I thinking?) – but for some reason, I don't want to talk about it anymore. The more I talk about it, the more I feel like a liar and a fraud. A terrible person. Sally White's weaseled her way into my head. Just like she's weaseled her way into my life.

It's at ten-thirty that the Drs. Dupree announce they're going to bed and I take that as a subtle cue to leave. Lindsey walks me to my car and waves as I back out of the drive. The lights are on at my house, downstairs and upstairs. When the garage door rises, I see that neither of my parents are home. Maybe they're dead. I wonder if it would matter if they were. I lock the door behind me after I slip into the laundry room. Maria's left all the lights on in the kitchen. I flick them off as I walk through. I start up the stairs. I hear Maria's radio playing in her bedroom. When I reach the landing, I hear something else, something that gives me pause. I stand very still on the landing, listening. Horror sweeps over me.

Grunting. That's what I hear. Grunting over the noise of Maria's radio. Grunting coming from behind Tiffany's door. I can't believe her. She's taken Tyler back. Tyler, after what he said about her, after how he used her. She's letting him use her again. Using her with Maria right next door.

I drop my bag in the middle of the hallway and storm quickly toward Tiffany's room, letting my feet pound heavily on the floor. Now I am thankful I removed the lock from Tiffany's door. I grab the handle, my hand shaking with fury, and barrel into the room.

Tiffany isn't with Tyler.

She's with Sam Thomas.

They're in her bed, Sam griping the top of the headboard, thrusting inside my little sister, grunting loudly. Tiffany's underneath him, staring at the ceiling, motionless. They're both completely naked.

"What are you doing to my sister?" I screech, flying further into the room.

Sam's head whips around and he practically jumps off Tiffany, falling onto the floor. Tiffany sits up, staring at me, blankly. She doesn't bother to cover her breasts.

"She's only fifteen!" I scream. I pick up a stapler off the desk and throw it at him. It misses. "Get out of my house!" I shriek and throw a pair of sunglasses. I throw anything I find on the desk.

Sam's struggling into his pants. His face is panicked and pale. He thought he could do this in my house and not get caught?

Tiffany continues to stare at me, expressionless.

Sam barely has his shirt and shoes on when he races out of the bedroom. I chase after him, stopping only at Maria's door. I throw it open and grab her badminton racket, then continue my pursuit of Sam Thomas. I never knew I could run so fast. I catch him on the front lawn and deliver a mighty whack to his back. He trips and falls to the ground.

"She's only fifteen years old!" I shriek again. I hit him with the racket. On the head. As hard as possible. "Fifteen! You pervert! What's wrong with you?" I hit him again and again. Sam raises his arms to protect himself from the blows, but I don't give up.

"She didn't do anything she didn't want to!" Sam yells at me.

"She's fifteen!" I hit him again.

"What's going on out here?" a voice bellows. Mr. Papadakis has stepped out onto his porch. He stands with his hands on his hips, watching as I beat Sam Thomas with a badminton racket.

I pause long enough to look at Mr. Papadakis. Sam takes the opportunity to escape. He runs off down the street toward his mother's house.

"Come near my sister again and I'll kill you!" I shout after him.

Mr. Papadakis is still on the porch when I stomp back up the walkway. The Kormans' porch light has just flicked on. I don't care. I don't care who heard.

I race up the stairs. Tiffany's still sitting on the bed, still naked.

"What's wrong with you?" I scream at her.

Tiffany glares at me, nostrils flaring. "You are such a hypocrite," she spits out.

"You're fifteen years old, Tiffany! And Sam Thomas is married with a baby!"

"You're seventeen and screwing some math teacher!" Tiffany yells back. "A math teacher who thinks you're an adult! You're a liar and a hypocrite! And you have no business lecturing me! I can do whatever I want. You had no right chasing Sam out of here. He didn't even give me the rest of my money!"

I drop the badminton racket. "What?" I gasp. "Your money?"

"Sam told me he'd pay me two hundred dollars to take my virginity and call me Stacey while he took it."

I cannot breathe.

Or speak.

Or form a coherent thought.

"Sam Thomas paid you to have sex with him?" I whisper, cold all over.

Tiffany shows no emotion but contempt. "Yes. My virginity might as well be worth something, even if it is only two hundred dollars. Mom always said I better learn to enjoy lying on my back and spreading my legs. Otherwise, I'll never get anywhere or have anything. I might as well start now."

I cover my mouth. I want to cry.

After an eternity of hard stares, I say, "That makes you a whore."

"I don't care. At least I'm an honest whore."

"I'm not a whore."

"Get out of my room."

I turn and leave without argument. I find Maria standing in the hallway, arms wrapped around herself, head bowed, crying. I take a step toward her but she rushes into her bedroom and slams the door. It locks behind her.

I don't know what to do. And there's no one to give me any answers.