As it turned out, nothing. Mom called Ella and I down soon after we had chosen our rooms to start unpacking. We learned something new on our expedition to officially "move in:" Ella is horrifically, and I mean horrifically, allergic to dust.

"Ah-ah-ah-chew!" Ella sneezed for the 17,000th time. I giggled. Again. Normally, I do not do the giggling thing. But her sneezes were just so dang funny. She glared at me.

"Alright, Ella. You're done," Mom told her. Ella stuck her tongue out at me. I stuck mine out right back. Mom gave me a look. "Max…"

"Mom, my eyes are itchy," Ella said pitifully. "And Max is making fun of me." I started to interrupt, but Mom got there first.

"Go upstairs and put a cold hand towel on your face," She said to Ella, who immediately started the long trek upstairs. Then she turned to me. I opened my mouth to plead my case, but she just held out her hand in the "stop talking" signal. I shut it again. "Max, you can keep bringing furniture in," She said. "And stop making fun of your sister." Her voice was stern, but there was laughter in her eyes. I grinned.

"You got it."

Mom turned to follow Ella upstairs, and I opened the front door and stepped outside. The van was parked in front of the house, and the back was open. I walked around it and saw the end of the couch, poking out from behind a couple of boxes. I jumped up into the back of the van and began pulling it in my direction, down the ramp and onto the street. There I set it down, and wondered how the heck I was going to get it inside.

"Need some help?" I spun around to see who had spoken and found I had to look down a little to look them in the eye. It was a girl, with dark shoulder-length hair and a pair of humongous sunglasses that covered half her face. She had tanned olive skin, and stood maybe a 4'11" to my 5'8". She held a leash with a black standard poodle on the end, who was looking at me curiously and sniffing the air. The girl walked closer and stuck out her hand, "I'm Corliss. Corliss Eberhardt." I was slightly taken aback at such a straightforward attitude coming from someone who looked to be around 11 years old, but I shook it.

"Max Ride," I said.

"Wait a minute. Max Ride?" I nodded, bracing myself for the comment people usually made after I introduced myself, something usually along the lines of, Weird name. Aren't you a girl? But instead she asked, "Do you play soccer?" I grinned. Californians did play soccer.

"Yeah, do you?"

"No. But my sister does." I was about to ask if her sister was older when Mom called for me out the front door.

"Max! How far along are you?" She stepped outside and spotted the couch lying on the street, then groaned. "Max, when I said to keep bringing furniture in, I didn't mean…" She then saw Corliss and immediately brightened, hurrying down the steps to the street. "Hello!"

Corliss smiled. "Hi."

"Are you Maeve? Caroline's told me so much about you!" My mom was beaming so brightly I wished I had Corliss's (Maeve's?) sunglasses. "It's so wonderful that Max and Ella will have a friendly face when they start at Truman."

"Actually, Mrs. Martinez, I'm Corliss," Corliss said politely. "Maeve's my sister."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mom replied, looking slightly embarrassed. "Are you her little sister?" I could now tell that Corliss was holding back some hidden laughter.

"On the contrary. I'm older than her." Now Mom just looked plain confused.

"But…"

"MOM! COME QUICK!" Ella's voice cut through the awkward silence that had followed my mom's slight blunder. "My eyes are so swollen! I can't go to school like this!"

"I'll be there in a minute!" Mom called back, sounding irritated. She gave Corliss a little smile. "Duty calls," She said. "Sorry about the mix-up. Tell your mom hi for me, would you?"

"Will do," Corliss replied. With another smile, Mom was off to Ella's rescue.

"So…" I said, not really sure how to initiate a conversation. Corliss smiled at me, genuinely friendly. She seemed to be one of those people who are naturally happy, like, all the time. I wasn't sure how that would coincide with my own sparkling personality. Ha. Ha.

"So when are you starting at Truman? What grade are you in?" She asked.

"Tomorrow," Unfortunately, I added in my head. Ella was the one who was excited, being the social butterfly she is. "I'm in 10th. You?" Dummy! I reprimanded myself. She's probably not even in high school yet!

"I'm a sophomore too!" She said. "Sweet. Maybe we'll have some classes together."

"That would be cool," I agreed, my head spinning. This teeny girl was a sophomore? Was she some kind of child-genius?

"Oh, God. Look at the time," She said, glancing at a small silver watch on her left wrist I hadn't noticed before. "I really gotta go. Mom will have my head if I'm late again. It was great meeting you, Max! See you tomorrow! You need to sit with us at lunch!"

"Um, okay," I said. "Bye." And with a final grin and a wave, she was off, jogging back down the street with her dog in tow. I watched until she was out of sight.

I mentally groaned. If this was Social Max, I could only imagine what I would be like on my first day at a new school.

Meaning tomorrow.