Sticks and Stones
can be like.”
    After we got the prints developed, we sat down with Sophie. She was in grade twelve, so she knew the older girls. Between us, we figured out who owned the names on those walls. Then I went aroundschool, tracking the girls down. Some were pretty embarrassed. But most agreed to come to a meeting.
    We held it in a back corner of the cafeteria at lunchtime. Sophie, Carlos, and I waited. Slowly, the table filled up with girls — maybe fifteen or so. Some looked tough, some were popular. There was one nerd. I could see other kids starting to watch us. There were guys out there who kept looking at us, then away, back again, away. There’s only one way they could know why we were all together , I thought.
    When it looked like everyone had arrived, I put down my sandwich. I said, “Welcome to the first meeting of the Slut Club.”
    Some of the girls jerked. Megan, the girl I’d talked to before, started to laugh.
    “I don’t think it’s funny,” said a popular girl.
    “Neither do I,” I said.
    “Well, then why say it?” she asked.
    “Because I’m not going to let that word bother me anymore. It belongs on a bathroom wall, not in my gut,” I explained.
    “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said.
    “The school says they can’t clean up the walls right now. They don’t have the money,” I told them.
    “Yeah, right.” Megan rolled her eyes.
    “That doesn’t mean we can’t do anything. Carlos and I are doing an English project on graffiti. We took pictures of the bathroom walls. We want your permission to show them.”
    I passed the pictures around. As the girls looked at them, I watched their faces, the hurt in them. I let them look until they were finished and their eyes were back on me. I said, “In a way, I’m glad the school doesn’t have the money right now. Painting over those words would be like a Band-Aid — just covering it all up. You don’t change things by covering them up.”
    “Yeah,” someone nodded.
    “We’d like to use these pictures in our English project. But your names belong to you. We won’t use them if you don’t want us to,” I said.
    “What’re you going to do?” Megan asked.
    So I told them, with Carlos throwing in a few words. Some of the girls began to nod, some even smiled. Several backed out and left the meeting, but a couple offered to help. After we’d finished figuring it all out, Sophie took down everyone’s phone number. Carlos collected the pictures again.
    Megan leaned across the table. Definitely loud enough for Carlos to hear, she grinned and asked, “Is he yours?”
    Sophie giggled. I figured I was about as red as a human being could get. There was no way I was looking at Carlos to see how he was taking this.
    Megan grinned again. “Oops— sorry I asked.”
    I looked at my hands and said, “He’s his.”
    Then I glanced at him just as he looked at me. Our eyes bumped into each other and hung on.
    “Ahhhh — they’re in love,” Megan sighed.
    “Give us a break,” Carlos groaned.
    “This meeting is over now. Please,” I added.

Chapter Nine
    All weekend, Carlos and I worked at my house. We had to get our English project together for Monday. All weekend, we watched Sophie’s mother pack and leave. She was moving back in with her husband. Sophie was going to stay with us — Mom had made that very clear.
    “You are my second daughter, Sophie,” Mom told her. Mom can be verydramatic, but it’s great when she likes you.
    Sophie didn’t talk to her mother all weekend. She didn’t help her pack. Arms around her legs, Sophie sat very still in front of the TV. Whenever I heard the “Star Trek” theme, I knew where Sophie was going — far, far away. Late Sunday afternoon, her mother dragged the last of her stuff to the front door. That was when Sophie finally moved from the TV. Her head came around and she stared at her mother. Then she gave a cry like a little kid.
    “Mom!”
    She jumped up and ran to her mother, throwing out
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