OCDaniel by Wesley King Page A

wanted to apologize—”
    â€œNo,” she said. “I need to apologize. I was being stupid. I’m just, like . . . the only Indian girl in the school, and I get a little sensitive sometimes. We’re good.”
    â€œGood,” I said. “Having fun yet?”
    Raya rolled her eyes. “The best. Loud music and boys staring at me across the gym like I might attack them. I do like watching Mrs. Lenner dance, though. That will probably be the highlight of my night.”
    â€œIf our dates don’t stop clowning around,” Ashley agreed, who was Tom’s date. “I’m going to go see if that dufus plans on coming over here tonight or just dancing in the corner with his boyfriend.”
    She stormed off, leaving me with Raya. I loved dances. Everyone was so preoccupied.
    â€œSo how’s your date going?” she asked me, looking at Max.
    â€œPretty good,” I said. “I mean, my mom picked him up, and I forgot a corsage, so not great.”
    She giggled. “Better than mine. Taj’s older brother picked us up in a Camaro and told him to have fun while winking at me. It almost made me vomit.”
    â€œThat would have been bad for the Camaro.”
    â€œI know. So did your mom comb your hair for you?”
    I paused. “She fixed it. I did most of the original combing.”
    She reached over and messed it up a little. The touch sent shivers right down to my feet.
    â€œToo much combing. I like it like you haven’t slept in a week because you were writing a novel.”
    I glanced at her. “How do you know I like to write?”
    â€œBecause you do it sometimes when no one is looking.” She smiled. “Or so you thought.”
    This was the greatest conversation of my life. Clara and Max rejoined the group, but my arms didn’t stop tingling for a second. We stood there and talked until Clara pulled Raya away to the bathroom.
    â€œHow happy?” Max asked.
    â€œTwelve.”
    â€œI thought so.” He watched Clara disappear into the bathroom. “She wants to dance.”
    â€œSo dance.”
    He looked at me. “I don’t like her.”
    â€œShe looks like Cinderella.”
    â€œAnd she talks like the evil stepmother.”
    I snorted. “So don’t marry her. Just dance with her and act like Prince Charming.”
    â€œAnd if she wants to go out or something?”
    â€œDisappear at midnight.”
    He sighed and turned to the bathroom. “Yeah.”
    â€œBuck up,” I said. “And I need to go to the bathroom too. I drank five pops before I came.”
    â€œWhy?” he asked, laughing.
    â€œNervous drinker,” I replied. “I’ll be back.”
    I hurried off to the bathroom, practically gliding across the gym. Raya had talked to me and touched my hair. She knew I liked to write. She’d said she liked my hair messy.
    My brain was so busy, it didn’t even worry about the lines of the floor. I stepped on the half-court line. I never step on the half-court line. It’s red and highly ominous.
    I was almost to the bathroom when I saw Sara sitting at a table. Miss Lecky was beside her. Sara’s dark hair was curled, and she was wearing a green blouse and dress pants. She was just sitting there, her eyes glazed over while Miss Lecky texted. Maybe Sara’s parents thought it was good for her to get out.
    We met eyes for a moment, but she didn’t say anything this time. She just watched me.
    It was unnerving, and I felt her eyes on me all the way to the bathroom. But when I turned back, she was staring at nothing again, the bright lights playing tricks on her face. I wondered where her mind went when she stared.
    I guess I took a long time. I was nervous, so it took me a while to pee, and then I fixed my hair for five minutes to try to make it look messy, which I know is ironic, but there are certain types of messy. When I was finally satisfied that I