Second Kiss by Natalie Palmer Page B

curve in her lips.
    I looked back at Jake, who was hunched over laughing, and yelled the only line of defense I could come up with, “You’re not supposed to talk! You don’t have the ball!”
    “Quiet, everyone.” Ms. Campbell finally ordered-fifteen seconds too late. As the laughter died down, Ms. Campbell looked back at me. She must have felt some amount of pity toward me because she spoke in a softer, gentler tone.

    “Was your name on the roll? I don’t remember… ” She picked up the folder that was sitting on her lap then skimmed her finger along a piece of paper that I assumed was the roll. All I could do was wait for Miss Campbell to realize that I wasn’t really in her class. She kept rubbing her finger over the middle of the page-I assumed the M section-over and over until I was sure she had smudged the ink. “I don’t see your name here Gemmalynn.” I cringed at my full name and swallowed hard.
    “I-I thought I was in this class, but I guess I’m not.” Smooth, real smooth. It didn’t matter, though; it couldn’t get much worse than this.
    “Why didn’t you raise your hand when I asked if I missed anybody?”
    “Uh. Well.” I didn’t have an answer for her. My lips continued to frantically move up and down.
    “I see.” Miss Campbell raised her eyebrows. She looked at me as though I was a homeless person trying to sneak into a wedding to steal food. Then another hint of pity swept across her face. “Maybe the roll is wrong. Let’s take a look at your class schedule.”
    Ugh! Not the class schedule! I wanted to freeze time and beg Miss Campbell to just shut up, please! Couldn’t we discuss this after class instead of right here in front of everyone?
    “Could you go get it for me so I can look at it?” she urged. The rest of the class started getting antsy.
    “Urn, it’s in my locker,” I lied. I justified that it was my one untruth that Miss Campbell had so rudely interrupted. “I’ll look at it later. I probably just read it wrong.” A few more kids laughed until Miss Campbell shushed them. She obviously didn’t think it was funny anymore.

    “You really should keep your schedule on you, but I guess you’ll just have to look at it closer and let me know tomorrow.” She cleared her throat again and asked a few more kids to please be considerate of others-which I found ironic. “Okay, let’s get on with the game then. Gemma, if you’ll pass the ball on to the next person.” I looked at her in shock. She wasn’t even going to let me finish my turn? I wanted to stand up and protest. I had every right to continue playing the game! But then I wasn’t sure if that was true. I sheepishly handed the ball to my left without saying a word.
    The bell rang ten minutes later, and I quietly gathered up my backpack. As I was leaving the class, I heard a familiar male voice snickering, “Hey, Gemma, here’s an untruth-Gemma’s not a loser!” Of course it was Jake. He and a few other boys hissed some bad words through their teeth, but I didn’t turn around. I walked out of the classroom with their sneers stinging the backs of my ears. I walked through the halls toward my locker until I realized I was going to my old locker in the eighth grade hall. This year’s locker number would be printed in bold, black ink at the bottom of my class schedule that was still sitting on my desk at home. I didn’t know where to go. I couldn’t bear to face the embarrassment of going to another wrong class. I walked aimlessly through the foreign ninth grade hall, looking for Clarissa and Nina, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. Four minutes later the bell for second period rang, and I was left standing alone. The school had never seemed so huge and unfamiliar. I escaped out a side door before anyone noticed me and found myself on the side of the school where nobody ever goes, near the dumpster. I leaned against the red brick wall and slid my back down it until I was sitting on the gravel pavement.