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there’s all this homework I promised myself I would do Friday night so I wouldn’t be doing everything totally last-minute the way everyone else does. And now it’s already Sunday night and where did the weekend go?
    Back in my room, I get out my binoculars and try to see Mars. It’s close to Earth right now, which means you’re supposed to be able to see it with the naked eye. It looks like a red star. But, as usual, it’s not clear enough to see much of anything besides the moon. Still, I like this routine of trying.
    Steve always hated routines. He complained that I wasn’t spontaneous enough, that I always had to plan everything in advance. I could tell he wanted me to be more exciting, but it’s just the way I am. I love routines. Like how James and I have our Magnolia routine. Or even when we play Monopoly, he’s always the top hat and I’m always the wheelbarrow. It’s our thing. It’s just the way we are together.
    But Steve wasn’t like that.
    Maybe that’s okay, though. Maybe it’s impossible to find everything you want in one person. Maybe everyone in your life gives you certain things you need. And your friends give you the rest of what you can’t get from your boyfriend.
    Question: Is it unrealistic to believe that one person can be your everything?

CHAPTER 3
    Monday
    THE THING ABOUT first period is that it starts at eight o’clock and my brain isn’t working yet. No one’s is. Except for the teachers’. But they get paid for that. And even then you can totally tell that some of them are still hungover from partying too late. Or maybe that’s just true about Mr. Farrell. He looks like he might be fun to hang out with.
    My brain’s still asleep. Plus my contacts were all dry and irritating yesterday, which means I had to wear my glasses today. And it’s not like I have cool retro glasses like James or anything. I have these boring ones that I picked out freshman year and never bothered updating because I thought I wouldn’t have to wear them again.
    Question: Did I pick out these glasses because I was trying to make a statement that dorky glasses are in?
    Anyway, I have Earth Science first period, and today’s a lab day. Which means that instead of going to gym second period, we have science for twice as long. Which would be excruciating enough for most kids in here under normal circumstances. But lab in this school is not normal circumstances. And that would be because our school is retarded.
    First off, we don’t have enough lab stools. So it’s first-come-first-sit. But even the prospect of standing for two periods hunched over the lab table the whole time isn’t enough to make me get out of bed ten minutes earlier. I usually slide in just as the bell’s ringing. So I’m standing and bending over and my back is killing me. You’d think Eliezer or Miguel would have the skills to be a proper gentleman and let me sit. But no.
    We go to Eames Academy of Design. It’s a magnet school for kids who want to be things like interior designers or urban planners or architects. When I first told my parents I wanted to apply, my dad was like, No way. He was hating Brooke’s decision to reject the joys of capitalism and wanted me to make up for it. So we had this whole heated argument about how it’s more important to do something you love than to make a lot of money (my side), versus you have to be a responsible adult and support yourself because no one else is going to do it for you (his side). I had to throw this whole hysterical screaming fit before he even listened to what I was saying. Which is such a joke, because this school is really selective and lots of kids don’t even get in, so it’s supposed to be a privilege to even be here. So we agreed that I could go if I got in. If I didn’t get in, I’d be forced into some obnoxious college-prep private school horror show. Guess who won that battle?
    Kids apply from all over New York City to go here. It’s supposed to be one of the