“I’m working on making you disappear,” Zach said.
Daisy felt as though she was at a Ping-Pong match, watching them trade insults back and forth. She cleared her throat.
“I work at the Sky River Bakery,” Zach said conversationally. “Early shift. So every morning for fresh pastries, I’m your man.”
“We’ve all got to be good at something,” Sonnet said with a pitying glance in his direction.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good at making them and Sonnet is good at eating them, as you can tell by the size of that ass.”
“All right,” Daisy said suddenly, understanding why the teacher had placed her between these two. “Do we kill him now or wait until the bell rings?”
Sonnet shrugged. “The sooner, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
Zach stretched, and folded his hands behind his head. “You need me, and you know it. You’d die of withdrawal symptoms if I didn’t bring you a pastry every day. You guys hear about the fire?” he asked, changing the subject. “Jenny’s house burned down.” “Bullshit,” Sonnet said.
“It’s not.” He held his arms wide, palms out. “Swear to God, I’m not making this up. It’s probably in the paper.”
Daisy listened with interest. She had a sort of crazy family tie to the bakery. It was owned by Jenny Majesky—she assumed this was the “Jenny” Zach was talking about. Jenny was the daughter of Daisy’s uncle Phil. So that made them cousins, though they were virtually strangers. “Is Jenny okay?” Sonnet asked. “Fine. I’m surprised she’s not with your mom.” “Jenny and my mom are best friends,” Sonnet explained to Daisy. “And my mom’s out of town at a mayors’ convention. She’ll be back later this morning.”
“Oh,” Daisy said. “Does she work for the mayor?” Sonnet took a bite of her kolache. “She is the mayor.” “Hey, that’s awesome,” Daisy said.
“Not for long,” Zach interjected. “My dad’s running against her in the next election.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Sonnet said with airy confidence.
“He’s the city administrator and he’s saved the city a fortune. People love that,” Zach countered.
“Yeah, they love it when you cut services, like closing the municipal pool. What’s he going to close next, the library?” She finished eating the kolache and wiped her hands with a napkin.
Announcements crackled over the PA system, drowning the conversation. There was a meeting of the debate club after school. Ice-hockey practice and a 4-H Club sugaring-off party, which sounded wholesome, but Sonnet whispered that it was a chance for the 4-H’ers to go out into the woods, boil maple sap into syrup and get high while doing it. Then—Daisy couldn’t believe it—everyone stood up, turned to face the flag in the corner of the room and said the Pledge of Allegiance. The words came to her from some hidden well she thought she’d forgotten.
“Let’s have a look at your schedule,” Zach said.
Daisy spread it out on the desk and the three of them studied it.
“Whoa,” said Zach. “Calculus and honors physics? And AP English? What are you, a glutton for punishment?”
“I didn’t get to pick,” Daisy explained. “At my old school, I had to take five AP courses.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It was a really hard school.”
“So you’re halfway through senior year, and they made you move to the boonies,” Sonnet said. “That’s harsh.”
“I begged my dad to let me stay in the city,” Daisy said, though beg was a euphemism for screaming fit. “I even said he could homeschool me, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Why not?”
“He claims he doesn’t remember calculus. And I was, like, fine, we’ll fail it together, because I don’t understand it, either.”
“Probably not the best way to convince him,” Sonnet said. “I’m surprised they even have classes for you here.”
Daisy decided not to tell her that technically, she probably had enough credits to graduate early. The only problem with that was, if she left school, then she’d have to get a life. And she was totally not ready for that.
By comparing notes, she discovered she had several classes in common with either Sonnet, or Zach, or both. Sonnet was some kind of accelerated brainiac. Though only sixteen, she would graduate with the seniors in June. And Daisy figured out that even though Zach and Sonnet teased each other, they were kind of into each other. But there was definitely a rivalry going on.
“It’s a little weird,” Zach agreed. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of here. My college apps have been in since October. What about you?”
Daisy stared down at her pristine, empty notebook. “I applied,” she admitted. The counselor at her other school had practically held her under house arrest, making her fill out applications. “I don’t really want to go to college,” she confessed.
Sonnet and Zach seemed to take it in stride. At Daisy’s old school, saying “I don’t want to go to college” had the impact of saying “I have an STD.” People stared at you, hiding their disgust behind pity.
And for Daisy, the most disgusted, pitying looks had come from her own parents.
Zach and Sonnet didn’t look pitying at all. Maybe at this school you weren’t considered a loser and a freak just because you didn’t plan on being a rocket scientist or Supreme Court justice.
So far, thought Daisy, the day didn’t totally suck. That was a surprise. Of course, they hadn’t even left homeroom yet.
The bell rang and everyone flurried into action, shuffling papers, stuffing backpacks and heading for the door. In the corridor, kids floated along like leaves in a stream.
Zach veered toward a classroom with French travel posters plastering the door. “Here’s my stop,” he said. “Find me at lunch.” He disappeared into a classroom.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” asked Sonnet.
Boyfriend? Now, if Sonnet had asked her if there were guys Daisy hooked up with, she would have a different answer. “No boyfriend,” she said firmly. “Why do you ask?”
“Because Zach is totally crushing on you. He has been since the second you walked into homeroom.”
“I don’t even know him.”
“I don’t even know Orlando Bloom, but I totally know I would be his love slave until the end of time.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to be anyone’s love slave.”
Been there, done that, she thought. “And anyway, you’ve got him pegged all wrong. He’s into you, not me.”
Sonnet shook her head, corkscrew curls bobbing. “He hates me.”
“Right. He hates you so much he brings you a pastry every morning.”
“If you’re so smart, how come you’re not going to college?”
“I’m not sure of anything.” She experienced a tiny glimmer of warmth and found herself hoping this was the start of an actual friendship. “I like the name Sonnet,” she said, wanting to turn the topic away from herself.
“Thanks. My mom says she picked it because she didn’t want anything that sounded too ethnic. All my cousins on my mom’s side of the family are Lucias and Marias and so forth. Sonnet is just … weird.”
“Weird in a good way,” Daisy