Sally and my teachers' patience have worn thin, so Wednesday after school I drive straight to the Stoneybrook Public library. The only class I'm still holding onto an A in is microbiology and that's just barely. One more missed assignment and that too will be gone. All my other classes, I'm not even sure where I stand. I don't really care, but with the threat of social services looming, I should put on appearances. I should pretend to care.

I hole up in a corner of the library with a stack of late homework. I can't do any of the current assignments because I don't understand them. I have to work my way through from the beginning and I have to do it by the end of next week. Next Friday is the last day of school before Christmas vacation. I'm uncertain how much I can still make up after that.

It's four-thirty and I'm finishing a review sheet for geology when someone calls my name. Calls it out loud and clear right in the middle of the library. I glance up and it's Claudia. Her mother's the head librarian, so I guess Claudia doesn't care about following the rules. That wouldn't be a first.

"Hey, Shannon!" Claudia greets me, brightly, stopping at my table. "Doing homework? Same old Shannon!" She grins.

"I have a lot to catch up on. I can't really talk," I say and resume my work.

Claudia apparently doesn't listen. "Hey, is it true that you tried to smash Lauren's head in a door?" she asks.

I sigh and glance up again. "Yes," I say, exasperated.

Claudia laughs. "That's awesome! I thought she was exaggerating."

"I'm thrilled to hear you and your friends are still gossiping about me."

"We aren't gossiping about you," Claudia protests. She flips her long black braid over her shoulder. It's tied with a million gold and red ribbons. "I heard you've become kind of a grouch," Claudia says. She says it very lightly, like we're having a regular conversation.

"Maybe if people would leave me alone, I wouldn't be such a grouch," I snap.

"Well, with an attitude like that you won't have to worry about people bothering you much longer," Claudia says, just as lightly as before. "I am sorry about what happened to you. It sucks. Erica and I tried to stay out of it. Hey, your business is your business. You have to make mistakes to learn from them."

Oh, the wisdom of Claudia Kishi the mail room girl.

"Yes, I've heard all about your mistakes and how you learned from them," I say and turn my review sheet to the other side.

"Yeah, Abby told me that she told you. But I wouldn't be such a know-it-all about it. You really don't know everything about me. And gee, Shannon, at least I'm not pouting and snapping at people who are just trying to be friendly. What good would that do me? What good does that do you?"

I ignore her and keep writing.

"Erica and I didn't know if we should tell you or not," Claudia says, still pretending that I'm interested in having a conversation with her. "but I think I should. You should know. There's this rumor going around SHS about a high school girl who is sleeping with a teacher."

I drop my pencil. Oh, dear Lord. I stare up at Claudia, dumbstruck.

"No names have been mentioned and Erica doesn't think the rumor's made it around very far. She's heard a couple versions. One is that it's a SHS girl sleeping with a SHS teacher. The other is that it's a SHS girl sleeping with a SMS teacher. Erica says most people think the girl is Dorianne Wallingford. Maybe you don't have to worry. Maybe your name and his won't come up at all. Erica hasn't yet figured out who spread the rumor in the first place."

I quickly switch from horror to fury. "I know who it was," I tell Claudia, hotly, "it was that stupid Lauren girl!"

"No, it wasn't. She isn't going to tell anyone else. She's terrified that Kristy's going to spill about some of the awful and mostly illegal things she's done."

I furrow my brow. "What?" I ask, confused.

Claudia looks surprised. "Lauren said she told you. About Kristy threatening to punch out her lights if Lauren kept gossiping about you. I mean, Lauren really wasn't afraid of that. I think she could drop Kristy pretty easily. But then Kristy threatened to spread some gossip about Lauren. Some of the stuff is pretty bad. You have Mary Anne to thank for that really. She told Kristy stuff that Pete told her."

"What?" I ask again.

"Didn't Lauren tell you?"

I think. I wasn't really listening that day at Wes' apartment. I was focused on finding Wes, not on the ranting of some crazy girl. "I remember something about a cat…" I say, slowly.

Claudia laughs. "Mary Anne told Kristy about the cat?" Claudia laughs again. "Oh, yeah, that was pretty awesome. Oh, and really, really tragic. Hey, my mom's waving at me. I have to go. We're leaving for Japan tomorrow. See you in a couple weeks!" Claudia waves and walks off, sort of bouncing, appearing perfectly happy. It must be nice.

I sit very still for a while, staring into the distance, processing what Claudia said. People are talking about me. They're talking about Wes and me. They don't know it's us, but what if they find out? Everyone will laugh at me. Everyone will say I'm a slut and a whore. I'll be a joke. And everything Wes predicted may come true.

I wonder if I should warn him.

I collect all my things, shoving as many notebooks and binders into my messenger bag as possible. I carry the rest in my arms, rather awkwardly. Once in my car, I drive to Birch Street. I drive past Wes' complex, but I can't see his parking spot from the road, so I don't know if he's home. And I don't have the nerve to go any closer. So, I drive home.

As soon as I turn onto McLelland, my mood shifts. I'm no longer worried, I'm furious. Who does Kristy Thomas think she is? She's as bad as her mother! She may be worse. What's she doing butting into my business like I can't take care of myself? I don't need her so-called help. I can control things just fine on my own.

I screech to a stop in my garage right between Mom and Dad's cars. They're home. At the same time. What a shock. I leave all my things in the car and stalk straight across the street. Kristin Amanda Thomas will hear a few things from me. I am relieved to see that the Thomas-Brewers' garage door is open and that neither Elizabeth's roadster or Watson's Suburban are inside. Unfortunately, however, Charlie and Janet's cars are in the driveway. I really don't care to see Janet at the moment. I doubt she's too happy about my telling Elizabeth about Sam. Although Janet certainly had no qualms about telling Elizabeth my private business.

Karen answers the door.

"Hi, Shannon," she greets me and drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Shannon the dog's been acting a bit crazy lately. I think the two of you may have a psychic link."

"Oh, just get out of my way," I snap, shoving past her.

I start across the foyer toward the staircase, figuring Kristy's likely up in her room. Probably spying on me from her window. As usual. Just as I reach the staircase, Janet and Charlie come thundering down it. Janet's leading the way, scowling.

"Come back here!" Charlie shouts after her.

Janet keeps moving.

"I want to talk to you!" Charlie exclaims.

"You're a jerk!" Janet yells without turning around. She sails right past me without acknowledgement, as does Charlie.

Well, it's nice to see that Janet's already found someone new to fight with.

I hurry up the stairs to Kristy's bedroom. I walk in without knocking. It's very brash and I don't care. Kristy would do the same. Kristy sits at her desk doing homework. She spins around in her chair and stares at me, sort of caught off-guard.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

I open my mouth to lay right into her, but think better of it. Instead, I ask, "Have you talked to Mary Anne lately?"

Kristy looks confused. "No. I've tried calling her, but she claims she's busy. And actually, I'm a little peeved with Mary Anne Spier at the moment. It would have been nice if she'd mentioned at some point that Stacey McGill's mother is dating Mr. Prezzioso! It would have saved me a lot of humiliation at the Washington Mall food court on Monday night!"

Yes, because Kristy's humiliation is the most important thing in the world.

"Why are you asking about Mary Anne?" Kristy wants to know.

"No reason," I reply, dismissively. Then I set my mouth in a deep frown. "I just saw Claudia at the library. Why can't you stay out of my business?" I demand.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about! I don't need you running around Stoneybrook threatening to beat people up for me! You are such a nosy busybody! Just like your mother!"

"Leave my mother out of this," Kristy retorts, angrily. "Say whatever you wish about me, but lay off my mother. And I was trying to help you. You were being foolish and put yourself in a terrible position and the worst two people at SHS knew about it – Lauren and Pete. Mary Anne took care of Pete, so I took care of Lauren. You should thank me. I'm the reason people aren't pointing and laughing at you in the halls at school."

"Oh, yes, Kristy, thanks so much," I say, sarcastically. "You were a big help. You helped in so many ways. Thank you. But from now on, don't help me ever again. I don't need you or your family. All you people do is make life worse for my sisters and me. Stick to helping out your own sorry, perverted lice-infested selves."

Kristy's jaw drops. "Who told you I had lice?" she demands.

"What?"

"Did David Michael tell Maria? No one was supposed to know! And I'm the only one here who had them, so my family is not lice-infested."

Now my jaw drops. "You gave me lice!" I cry, pointing a finger at her.

"I did not!" Kristy protests. "How could I? You weren't speaking to me. I was never around you to give you lice. Wait…you had lice, too?"

"Yes! My entire family did! Thanks so much! I had head and pubic lice, so thanks especially for that!"

"You had pubic lice? Gross! I only had head lice. I got it from Janet. That's what I get for stealing her barrette. She got it from Amy, who we figure got it at playgroup."

"Janet gave you lice?"

"Yes. That's why I missed school that Friday. Nannie had to treat my hair. The infestation was really nasty. We had to go back for a second bottle of shampoo. Mrs. Bernstein offered to squirt the shampoo up my nose in case any lice crawled up there. She's really weird. Hey, how'd you get lice though?"

I am fuming. I knew it was Sam! And Tiffany tried to blame me!

I whirl around and stomp out of Kristy's bedroom. Kristy comes after me. I run down the stairs. Janet and Charlie are crossing through the foyer again, Janet still in the lead. She's waving her arms and ranting about God knows what.

"Thanks a lot for giving me crabs!" I shout at her when I reach the bottom of the staircase.

Janet and Charlie freeze.

"You gave her crabs!" Charlie exclaims.

"I don't have crabs!" Janet cries.

"Well, Sam gave them to Tiffany! And the only reason he didn't give them to you is because he couldn't stand to sleep in the same bed as you!" I yell, then storm across the foyer to the front door.

"How did Sam give Tiffany crabs?" Kristy exclaims.

I go out the door and slam it behind me. Janet can explain. As much as I would relish the expression on Kristy's face when she learns the truth, I really can't stand to be around these people any longer.

I hurry across the street and retrieve my bag from the car, then go inside. I hear voices in the living room – Mom, Dad, and Tiffany. Their voices carry, but surprisingly, no one seems to be yelling. Curious, I walk out of the kitchen and into the living room. Mom, Dad, and Tiffany are standing in a circle, facing one another. Dad's arms are folded, Mom's hands are on her hips.

"What's going on?" I ask, starting to panic. Where's Maria? Has something happened to her?

"Social Services is coming tomorrow!" Tiffany cries.

"What! I thought you took care of that?" I tell Dad, accusingly.

Dad shrugs.

Mom scowls. "Apparently, it won't just go away. I don't know what kind of strings that Brewer woman pulled to get someone out here so fast. I thought Social Services was underfunded and overworked. They should be using their resources more efficiently and bothering poor people! Anyway, don't worry, Shannon. This will all go away after tomorrow. The social worker assured me this is more of a formality. A report has been made and they must come out and have a look around. It'll be fine."

"We have to get rid of Maria," Tiffany announces.

Mom and Dad are surprised. "Why?" Mom asks.

"She has a big mouth. There's no telling what she'll say to the social worker."

I nod. "That's right. Maria knows nothing about discretion," I confirm. I glance around. "Where is Maria?" I ask.

Dad shrugs.

Mom waves a hand. "I don't know."

"Upstairs on the phone," Tiffany says. "I told you guys that."

"Whatever," Mom says. "Now we must be on our best behavior tomorrow. I'll send Maria somewhere. The social worker can talk to the two of you. The house must be in perfect order. Tiffany, you have to clean that pigsty of yours tonight." Mom looks around the room. "And what has Mrs. Bryar been doing for the last week? It appears she's done nothing at all! There are dishes piled in the sink, the hampers are full, the bathrooms are a mess! Is she sick? Because I don't care if she is, she needs to get her ass over here tomorrow and clean this house!"

"Mrs. Bryar quit," Tiffany replies, simply.

"Mrs. Bryar quit!" Mom roars.

"On Friday."

"How can she just quit? She gave no notice? How unprofessional! What the hell is wrong with that woman?" Mom shrieks. "I'm calling her and giving her a piece of my mind!" Mom stomps across the room and grabs the cordless phone off the couch. She turns it on. "Get off the phone, Maria!" she barks. When Maria hangs up, Mom dials information and gets connected to Mrs. Bryar's phone number. She stands with one hand on her hip, face twisted in fury, waiting for Mrs. Bryar to answer.

Mrs. Bryar doesn't answer.

"Where the hell is she?" Mom screeches and throws the phone across the room.

"Yes, where is she?" I echo, irritated.

Tiffany rolls her eyes.

Dad shifts his eyes from side to side. "Now…" he says, hesitantly. "Mrs. Bryar is the cleaning lady, right?"

Mom, Tiffany, and I throw our arms into the air.

Maria comes down the stairs and enters the living room. "What's happening?" she asks.

"Nothing!" Mom snaps, replacing her hands on her hips. "Fine. I'll have to call a cleaning service in the morning. It's going to cost a fortune to get someone out here before the afternoon. And I'll have to miss work to let them in and make sure they don't steal anything. This is so inconvenient! And it's all Elizabeth Brewer and Mrs. Bryar's fault!"

"I know!" I agree.

Tiffany rolls her eyes again. "You're both idiots," she mutters and walks away from us. She's lucky Mom doesn't hear.

Mom paces the room, ranting and waving her arms. I find myself growing angrier and angrier right along with her. If Elizabeth had stayed out of my business, I'd still be with Wes. And if Mrs. Bryar had minded her own business, we'd have a clean house and a social worker wouldn't be coming here tomorrow. What's wrong with adults? At least my parents, as worthless as they may be, let me live my own life.

"Can we eat dinner now?" Maria whines.

"Sure. Whatever," Mom answers and wanders toward the kitchen, mumbling under her breath. Dad and Maria follow her.

I hang back and catch Tiffany's wrist as she passes. "Why are you so interested in getting rid of the social worker?" I demand, eyeing her suspiciously, considering what her angle may be.

Tiffany jerks her wrist out of my grip. "You think I want to go into foster care?" she retorts, coldly. "As soon as I turn sixteen, I'm getting emancipated. I'll be out of here. I'll get married if I have to. I can ride out this hellhole for a few more months. You'll be gone next fall and Maria hardly even lives here anymore. She'll be fine." Tiffany starts to walk away, but pauses and turns back to me. "And shut up about Elizabeth and Mrs. Bryar. There's nothing wrong with either of them!"

"There's everything wrong with the both of them!" I exclaim.

Tiffany rolls her eyes and continues into the kitchen. When I walk in, Maria's seated at the table eating Neapolitan ice cream from the carton with a giant spoon. Dad's making a peanut butter sandwich on the center island and Tiffany goes over to join him. I'm not hungry. I get a glass of apple juice. Mom isn't eating either. She's sifting through a stack of mail.

"Ted!" Mom barks after a couple minutes. She's staring at a long bill. "Have you been calling that stupid sister of yours?"

Dad wrinkles his nose. "Mirabelle? Why would I call her?" he replies, disdainfully.

"Well, then, who called Evanston, Illinois eleven times last month?" Mom demands.

My head whips around. I glare at Maria, who's peering guiltily over the top of the ice cream carton. What is wrong with her? Why is she calling Aunt Mirabelle? Aunt Mirabelle is Dad's younger sister. They don't get along and we've not seen her for years. I've only met her a couple times and remember almost nothing about her. I'm not sure Maria's even met her. Maybe once when Maria was very, very small. I continue to glare at Maria. Maria meets my gaze a moment, then averts her eyes, staring down into the ice cream carton.

Suddenly, all the lights shut off.

"What the hell!" Dad's voice booms.

"Shannon!" Mom screams. "Did you pay the electric bill?"

Oops.