Bounce Read Online Free PDF

of, which is bread. I think about how Jules and I used to talk in code, too. She was “J-Dog.” I was “E-Pup.” A cute boy was a “Benny,” and we were “Efftees”—Friends ‘Til the End. Jules and I spoke the same language, so we understood each other.
    Here, I understand every fifth word.
    My first class is Latin, and the room is a closet. Literally. There are mops in here.
    The Latin teacher, who is bald with furry arms, looks around for a window to open, but there isn’t one. There’s no chalkboard, either. And there’s just one desk. For me. The only person in the school stupid enough to pick a dead language over Spanish.
    I can’t open my locker.
    It’s a combination lock. Three numbers—5,10,15. Simple, right? But still I can’t open it.
    At my old school we had key locks. You carried your key on a cord around your neck, so there was never any problem.
    I look around the hall for someone to help me, but there’s no one here. The bell already rang. Which means I am late for math.
    It’s lunch, and I am standing in the middle of the cafeteria, holding a brown bag with my name on it, looking for someone to sit next to. Anyone.
    There are clumps of girls everywhere—talking, laughing, eating. Probably they have all been friends since kindergarten, when they first ate paste together.
    I bend down and pretend to tie my shoe. When I stand, someone is waving me over. Finally! She has messy hair, a long face, and big teeth. She looks like a horse. I could be friends with this girl.
    I smile and start walking.
    â€œDeebo!” she squeals. “I saved you a seat!”
    Deebo?
    A girl with a lunch tray breezes past me from behind. “Beebo!” She takes the seat next to Horse Face. They start giggling for no reason.
    I am left in the dust, still holding a brown bag with my name on it. I would feel like a major loser right now, if anyone was looking at me. But nobody is.
    I am Invisi-girl.
    Stella? It’s me, Evyn. I don’t know why they call it study hall. It’s not like anyone studies around here. See that group of headbands by the windows? They’re text messaging, and cell phones aren’t even allowed in school. I can’t believe Birdie is making me go here.
    Stella smiles.
    I can’t believe it’s only sixth period. Two hours and 181 days until eighth grade is over. There’s no way I’m going to make it.
    Think positive, she says. Everything will work out fine. You’ll see.
    When I open the door, the house is silent. Apparently, I’m the only kid in Boston who had nowhere to go after school today. Phoebe has Brownies. Cleanser Boy has soccer. The sweater twins have student council. Even Mackey is going to watch Thalia try out for some dorky play.
    I have nothing. I think I will go drown my sorrows in an econo-sized bag of Doritos. But when I get to the kitchen, there she is. The future Mrs. Birdie.
    â€œEvyn!” she says, like she’s been waiting for me all her life. “Come on in! I was just slicing up some baklava.”
    She smiles and wipes her hands on a towel. “How was your first day?”
    I shrug. What am I going to say? Super! The bus driver is my new best friend!
    â€œYou must be hungry,” she says, holding out a plate to me. “Have some. It’s still warm.”
    She’s right. I’m starving. It’s hard to eat lunch when you’re crouched in a bathroom stall for the entire period. But I don’t tell her this. I tell her no, thank you. I say, “I think I’ll go upstairs and start my homework.”
    She smiles wider. “Good for you. I wish everyone in this house were that motivated.”
    I’m halfway across the room when she says, “Evyn?”
    I turn. “Yeah?”
    â€œIf you ever want to…you know, have anyone over after school or anything…well, I just want you to know that your friends are