Free The Sister Solution by Trudi Trueit

didn’t recognize you this morning.”
    â€œI almost didn’t recognize myself,” I murmur.
    â€œGood thing I rescued you, or you’d be stuck under the big tiger.”
    Patrice means I’d be having lunch with Hanna Welch, who is sitting with one of her friends by the tiger mascot on the wall. I’m not sure what is so terrible about that. Hanna was the student Miss Thatcher assigned to show me around. She was friendly. She knew I was Sammi’s sister, but didn’t fire a bunch ofquestions at me. Instead, she kept encouraging me to ask her any questions I had about the school, my classes, sports, and clubs. Hanna was about to show me where my locker was this morning when Patrice came along and took me away, which reminds me . . .
    â€œPatrice, I still need to find my locker,” I say.
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œI’ve been up and down every hallway.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œYou said you’d help me—”
    â€œAnd I will. Chill, girl. It can’t walk away.”
    We are strolling toward the middle table, but I notice that every seat there is taken. I am getting jittery. Where are we supposed to sit? As I start to tell Patrice we’d better look for another table, the sea of bodies parts.
    â€œNewbie in the house!” Patrice taps a girl with a side ponytail, who nudges the girl beside her, who flicks the next girl, who slides out of her seat. Waving to me, the girl points to her spot.
    â€œDon’t move for me.” I edge toward her. “I’ll find a spot at another table.”
    â€œI’m almost done.”She tosses her napkin on her tray, but anyone can see she is not close to being done. There’s more than half a salad and a package of unopened string cheese on her tray. The girl next to her is also getting up. Her tray is nearly full too.
    â€œI’m Jorgianna Tremayne.”
    â€œBridget Forrester,” says the first girl. “This is Stella Nguyen.”
    â€œHi,” says Stella. “We usually sir over there.” She points two tables over.
    â€œI know you,” I say to Stella. “You’re in my science class.”
    â€œYes!” She puts a hand to her cheek. “There’s got to be thirty-five kids in Wannamaker’s class and I sit on the other side of the room. How did you remember me?”
    â€œI have a—” I am about to tell her I have an excellent memory, but remember my resolve to be as normal as possible. “—I’m into fashion,” I sputter, pointing to her plum-colored velvet tee. “Your top is cute.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œIt’s a Catinka DeLong, from last summer’s jewel-tone collection, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes!”
    What am I doing? I am a show-off.
    â€œYou don’t have to move for me,” I repeat.
    Stella sighs. “Yeah, we do, but it’s okay. You seem sweet.”
    â€œYou sure do.” Bridget frowns.
    â€œYou’re Sammi’s sister, right?” asks Stella.
    â€œYes.”
    A look passes between the two girls. Is it worry? Sadness? Fear? It happens so quickly I can’t be sure.
    â€œWe’ve eaten lunch with your sister,” says Stella. “She’s super nice.”
    â€œWill you tell her that?” asks Bridget, almost apologetically. “Tell her we had fun with Eden and her, okay?”
    Am I missing something?
    â€œSure,” I say.
    â€œJorgi!” Patrice is dragging me backward by the strap of my pack. “You’re next to me. Tanith, move your stuff, will you? You’re hogging two spots. And why are you eating that cottage cheese with peaches stuff again? That is gross.”
    â€œForgive meee ,”says the girl with the ponytail, rolling her eyes.
    â€œEverybody, this is Jorgi,” Patrice calls. “Jorgi, this is Tanith, Cara, Mercy, Desiree—where is India? Oh, there she is. India, do you have a