Free 7 Clues to Winning You by Kristin Walker

grabbed a leftover ham and cheese sandwich and took it to my room, where I stayed for the rest of the night. I forgot all about folding the laundry.
    * * *
     
    The next morning, Dad was gone by the time I came downstairs. He must’ve needed to get to school early. I grabbed a giant mug of steaming coffee and trudged back up to my room. I selected an adorable polka-dot jumper to wear and then remembered that Ash Grove wasn’t as fashion forward as Meriton. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so I opted for leggings and a cream chiffon tunic. I remembered to make my bed before I left.
    Walking into school, I kept my chin high and my profile low. I resolved to be dignified but non-confrontational. I hoped that people would be finished laughing at me for the yearbook caption contest, and thankfully, they seemed to be. The obvious way they looked straight through me didn’t exactly give me the warm fuzzies, but I’d take that over ridicule any day.
    I made it to homeroom. Made it to first period. By second period, though, I began to notice whispering. I saw pairs of girls hunched over the invisible space between them, heads inclined toward each other, mouths moving. A group of guys stood stock still except for the one doing the talking. I was desperately curious, but who could I ask about it? Nobody. Maybe Cy and Jenna.
    In the hallways between classes, I kept an eye out for Jenna’s bright hair, but I didn’t see it anywhere. I finally caught up with her and Cy at lunch. They were back at the same table in the corner, but they were sitting on the opposite side. I’d have to sit facing the room today. I got my yogurt and pretzels and made my way over.
    “Can I sit here again?” I asked. They turned in unisonto face me. For a few seconds, neither one said a word. It almost felt like I’d barged in on them or interrupted their privacy. Jenna shrugged one shoulder and said, “Sure.”
    I inched my way around the table to give them time to change their minds if they wanted to. Neither one did, so I sat and tore open my pretzels. “Tear, not pull,” I said to Cy, trying to break the ice. He gave me one solitary nod. He was wearing the same army jacket as yesterday. Jenna had on a Betty Boop tee. They seemed to be somehow guarded.
    “Is something wrong?” As soon as the question left my lips, I immediately felt like I’d asked something too personal. Like we were old friends who cared enough to ask that kind of thing. Which we weren’t. So I segued right into, “Everyone’s whispering and talking about something. Do you guys know what it is?”
    Cy crinkled his forehead and frowned. “Yeah.” That was all.
    I blinked a few times. “Well, can you tell me?” I’d tried not to sound sarcastic, but I wasn’t very successful.
    Jenna and Cy locked eyes. Silence passed between them. Jenna turned to me and said, “There’s a rumor going around that Principal Mac is canceling the Senior Scramble.”
    He was actually considering it? I took a moment to make sure my expression had enough surprise in it. “What?” I said. “He is?”
    I hadn’t seen Dad since yesterday. So what had made his mind up?
    “Apparently, yes,” Jenna said. She added, “Rumor has it, you’re behind it.”
    Cy asked me, “So are you?”
    I waffled. I didn’t want to confirm the rumors, but I didn’t want to lie either. If there was one thing I never wanted to be, it was a liar. I also didn’t want to jeopardize the only quasi-friendships I’d made at school, frail as they were. Jenna and Cy didn’t seem like snitches, so I went ahead and told them about my conversation with Dad, emphasizing the “stopping bullies” theme. Again, it sounded like a flimsy excuse. Cy and Jenna didn’t buy it for a second. Only when I admitted what Ms. Eulalie had suggested—that I might’ve been looking for a small smidge of revenge along with justice—did Cy and Jenna accept my answer.
    “Kind of a dick move,” he said.
    I nodded and