Free Wishing for Someday Soon by Tiffany King Page A

we cleaned up our mess.
    “Well, my dad kind of demands it,” she said, stowing our beakers in the appropriate place.
    “Your dad?” I asked puzzled.
    “Yeah, he kind of heads up the school board here, and I’ve heard he’s tough as nails,” she said, laughing lightly.
    “Wow, that’s really cool,” I said, feeling a touch envious that her father had taken such an active role in her education.
    “It’s a pain sometimes. He always knows everythinggggggggg that’s going on,” she said, dragging out the word.
    “I bet,” I said giggling.
    “So, I was kind of eavesdropping yesterday and heard you telling the others that you’ve been to a few schools. What’s that like?”
    I grimaced at her words. “Not fun,” I finally answered honestly.
    “Really? I’m a little jealous of all the people you’ve gotten to meet. Everyone here’s cool, but sometimes I crave more space. I hate feeling like we’re in a fishbowl all the time with everyone always in your business.”
    “That’s true, but I think it’s pretty cool how all of you have known each other all your lives,” I said, trying to keep the wistful tone out of my voice.
    “Yeah, that part’s pretty cool, but it still gets pretty cliquey here,” she said, looking over at Rebecca and her friends.
    I nodded my head, understanding what she was saying. In my last high school of more than three thousand students, we had the standard division of groups. There were the jocks and cheerleaders, who were all nice for the most part, but preferred to hang with each other since their sports kept them so tightly entwined; the band geeks, who you never saw that much because they were always practicing somewhere; the churchgoers, who enjoyed spreading their message and were always trying to recruit you for some church event. The druggies were neither here nor there. They floated through school like they didn’t have a care in the world. The worst of all the groups were the really smart kids. Not the pocket-protector-wearing, tape-on-the-glasses nerdy types, I mean the ones on the college track. They had little time for anyone outside of their realm and enjoyed the exclusivity of their group. Then there were the mice as I like to call them, who were the loners or quiet types. Most of the time they preferred to be by themselves, although occasionally they would be brave enough to accept a friend into their lonely existence. The in-betweeners were everyone else and enjoyed the privilege of floating into any group they chose. That’s where I fit in. I usually started the first day as a mouse, but would manage to float into whatever group suited me best.
    It was evident here in my two short days at Munford that the groups were a little more simplified: those with a lot of money, those with some money, and then the few with very little money. For the most part, the lines blurred between each group and they all seemed to get along pretty well, with the exception of Bethany and her brother. I wondered, since I lived in the same trailer park, if eventually I would be treated similarly to how they were here, but something tells me it has more to do with them personally than some kind of rich or poor class divide.
    “So, are you going to the Halloween dance at Alicia’s at the end of the month,” Courtney asked.
    “Um, I’m not sure. She mentioned it yesterday at lunch, but I’m not much of a dancer.”
    Courtney laughed in response. “None of us really are either. We all just hang out. You know, listen to music, that kind of thing. It’s pretty cool since Alicia’s parents bought these big, like oversized outdoor heaters. They set it all up in their barn that’s been renovated,” she said smiling. “You should come.”
    “Okay, well that sounds more like my kind of thing.” I said, returning her smile. “So, if it’s not a real dance, how does everyone dress?” I asked, mentally going through my limited wardrobe.
    “Well, that’s the funny thing,” she