Free The Sister Solution by Trudi Trueit Page B

easiest and best promise I have ever made.

    I get on bus number twelve and take the seat right behind the driver. This way, Sammi has plenty of seats to choose from. She can sit near me or way in the back. Ihope she sits close to me, but she probably won’t. Sammi doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. I lean my forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes.
    I am exhausted. Not from my classes, but from trying not to appear too new or too smart or too young or too much of anything that will offend anyone. I feel like one of those shape-shifter aliens in the movies, constantly turning myself into something different to make someone else happy.
    I like Patrice’s attitude. She’s herself and she doesn’t apologize for it to anybody. I can tell by the way kids act around her she’s popular, but is she popular because she’s herself or is she herself because she’s popular? I’m not sure, but I admire her strength and independence. I am beginning to think maybe it wasn’t my fault I didn’t have any friends at Greenleaf. Maybe it was their fault. I’m intelligent. Deal with it. I’m eleven years old. Live with it. I am into fashion. Get over it. I’m done shape-shifting.
    The seat bounces. Ugh. I refuse to paint on another smile and chat with anyone else today. I turn both shoulders toward the window to make this clear, but someoneis tugging my coat sleeve. “I need to talk to you.”
    I spin, my eyes flying open. “Sammi!” Could it be true? My sister actually wants to be seen with me?
    Her forehead is wrinkled. “How do you know Patrice Houston?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhere did you meet her? Did you go up to her? Did she say anything about me? Did she mention Noah?”
    â€œWho’s Noah?”
    â€œOh, for goodness sake, Jorgianna.” She slaps a hand to her forehead and lets her neck fall backward.
    The bus driver shut the doors and pulls away from the curb.
    â€œDon’t blow a brain cell,” I say. “I met Patrice at the art show. She came up to me and said she liked my sweater. You know, the one you said made me look like a human sombrero?”
    Her head still resting on the back of the seat, Sammi slowly turns her neck to look at me.
    â€œShe said she wanted to show me an exhibit she liked,” I explain. “Guess whose it was?”
    Sammi’shand slips off her forehead. “Yours?”
    â€œYep. I saw her again this morning before school. Miss Thatcher assigned Hanna Welch to show me around, and we were leaving the counseling office when we ran into Patrice. She said she’d take over for Hanna, since the two of us were already friends.” A warmth fills me as I remember the way Patrice firmly took my arm, the way she said the word “friend.”
    â€œSo that’s everything?”
    â€œYes. Well, no.”
    â€œNo?”
    â€œBridget and Stella told me to tell you they had fun eating lunch with Eden and you.”
    She relaxes a little. “They’re super nice.”
    â€œThat’s exactly what they said about you.” I unzip my backpack. “BTW, you left your cell phone in the car this morning.” I hand it to her.
    â€œThanks.”
    Now it is my turn to ask questions. “Why the third degree about Patrice?”
    Sammi shakes her head. “It’s complicated.”
    â€œIf I can handle advanced algebra, I think I can follow you.”
    â€œLife isn’t math, Jorgianna.”
    â€œIt ought to be. Math makes sense.”
    Sammi scoots closer to me and whispers, “Do me a favor and be careful around Patrice, okay?”
    â€œCareful?” I study her. “Why?”
    â€œJust don’t be so gullible. You’re too trusting—”
    â€œI know what gullible means. I have an IQ of—”
    â€œThis has nothing to do with intelligence,” snaps Sammi. “You’re in a different world