“I was wondering if you could explain to the class the difference between a definite integral and an indefinite integral?”
I froze. My notes were no help, just doodles. I lifted my chin. “I don’t know,” I stated, as if I could make being unprepared seem cool.
Glances were exchanged and muffled laughs swept through the students; no doubt they were all wondering why an airhead like me was in AP Calculus.
Mr. Greer frowned. “It’s an honest answer, anyway. Miss Bennett? Care to give it a try?”
The eclectic girl next to me nodded. Today she wore a patchwork denim skirt, black tights, and an orange patterned top. “A definite integral has upper and lower limits. An indefinite integral has no limits.”
“Correct. Take note, Miss Wallace,” Mr. Greer said, and went back to the board.
I gave my bestwhatevereye roll, but my cheeks burned.
The girl leaned toward me and whispered, “Hi, I’m Harper. If you ever need help—?”
“I’m good, thanks,” I snapped with a fake-sweet smile.
Harper recoiled and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from tearing up. For some annoying reason, I cried when I was angry. Which only made me angrier. I was pissed at my father for making me take this class and pissed at myself for being a bitch to Harper…
And at Xander for abandoning me.
Blinking furiously, I copied everything Mr. Greer wrote on the board, even if I didn’t understand a thing. Even if I just wanted to run out the door and not stop…
Class ended and we all filed out. Harper Bennett walked in front of me. Her dark hair was in a messy braid, but when I looked closer, I could see it was intricately woven and messy on purpose. Her whole style was deliberate and original. A Bend girl, but so what? I was a Richie, and my life was a mess. If I had someone to talk to, a real friend, maybe I could—
“Hey, girl!”
Sierra Hart, Aria Kingston, Delilah Winslow, and Elowen Blake, were all waiting for me. My crew was all dressed in tight-fitting tops and baggy, designer pants, wore perfect hair and makeup, and carried with them a cloud of expensive perfume. I joined them, and we made our way through the brightly lit halls to our next classes.
“Who’s the fashionista?” Aria—with large, dark eyes and raven hair—asked with a snide smile and a nod for Harper walking just ahead.
“She’s new. A Bender,” Delilah said with authority.
Sierra, pretty, with auburn ringlets, giggled. “Did she make her outfit herself?”
“Probably,” I scoffed automatically, as if I were a character in a movie and it was my line.
Harper flinched but kept walking—shoulders straight, head high, until she turned down a separate corridor, away from us vultures.
Shame burned my cheeks. “But I kind of like it. She has interesting style.”
“You’re joking, right?” Elowen said. “Don’t tell me you’re growing a soft spot for the Bend kids.”
“Let’s maintainsomestandards,” Aria, the meanest of the mean girls, put in. “This school would be perfect if they kept out the charity cases.”
I stared at my “friends,” wondering if they believed half of what they were saying or if it was all for show. Like me.
Elowen caught my expression. “You okay?”
She was technically my best friend, but I’d always suspected that if I were to get hit by a bus, she’d send me flowers and steal my boyfriend on the same day.
“My period arrived early,” I lied. “Cramps from hell.”
“Ah, gotcha,” she said. “You do look a little pale.”
“Oh my God, speaking of newbies, did you see the new guy in our class this year?” Delilah exclaimed. “Another Bender. His dad wasa big-time scientist or something until he had a nervous breakdown, and his mom walked out.”
I blinked. “How do you know that?”
