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shrug again. “Because of Sarah. You two have history.”
    He looks confused. “Umm…”
    “
You two decided you were king and queen of the fourth grade and have ruled with an iron fist ever since. Don’t you all have a pack mentality? Share a brain cell?”
    “
Ha. Ha.” He grimaces. “Very funny.” But a genuine smile tugs on the corners of his lips.
    “
Seriously.” I lower my voice. “Why are you tutoring me?”
    “
Why not? What’s the big deal?”
    “
The big deal is you barely acknowledged my existence before the accident, and let’s face it, no one acknowledges my existence since.”
    He seems at a loss for words and taps his pencil on the open textbook. “Community service,” he finally says and shrugs. “I need it to graduate.”
    “
So?”
    “
So, I’d rather sit in a library tutoring you than working in a food pantry. Maybe that makes me an asshole, but so be it.”
    I stare at a deep gouge on the table. I’m not sure what I expected him to say, but for some reason, that isn’t it.
    “
History or English Lit?”
    “
What?”
    “
What do you want to work on, History or English Lit?”
    My answer is neither, which doesn’t seem appropriate given the circumstances. “History, since you have the book already open.”
    He pulls a note out of his textbook. I recognize Mr. Archer’s handwriting scribbled on one side. “Wow, you’re really behind,” Evan finally says. “What have you been doing the last month?”
    “
Isn’t it obvious? Nothing.”
    He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. The strands curl around his fingers and remain out of place even after his hand lowers. “It was kind of a rhetorical question.” His blue eyes look up into mine. “Honestly, Jules, I don’t know how we’re going to pull you out of this.”
    I suck in my breath. “What did you call me?”
    His mouth drops open as his eyes widen. “I… is it not okay to call you Jules?”
    “
No one calls me that. Not anymore.”
    He raises his hands up in surrender. His face droops in defeat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His face falls into his open hands as he groans. “I think we should call it a day.” He sits up straight, shutting the history book. “It’s obvious we’ve gotten started on the wrong foot. You need to read first anyway, which I’m presuming you haven’t done. You pretty much have total recall of everything you read and you don’t know any of this stuff. Read Chapter Seven, the one starting with the end of World War II and we’ll try again tomorrow.” He stands and picks up his books.
    I stare up at him in disbelief as he turns and walks across the library without giving me a backward glance.
    Releasing my breath, I try to figure out happened. No one has called me Jules in six months. And I have no idea why he thinks I have total recall. Even if I had it, he never spoke to me before today so how would he know?
    I groan. He must think I’m a total freak.
    I’m pissed that I even care.
    Turning around, I half expect Evan to show up again, but the room is empty except for the librarian and the students working on their project, two tables down. As I pack up my belongings, I realize some of the old me returned today. Instead of slithering into a hole, I returned Sarah’s insult. I had a conversation with Evan— perhaps a stilted one, but it’s a start.
    Yesterday. It all began changing yesterday. If only I could figure out what happened in the cemetery. Who showed up?
    I shake my head. No one, that’s who.
    Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I head out of the school. The air is crisp. I gather my jacket into my fist to keep out the chill and look back before crossing the street toward home. Over in the student parking lot, Evan leans into a car window. He appears agitated as he swings an arm toward the football field where the team is practicing. It occurs to me that Evan is supposed to be with them, out