It’s really deep in the air, and by the time the bell rings everything is warm and glowing again, but you don’t un-smell winter.
Sharon White won’t talk to me anymore. Alice is in a different homeroom, and we sit together every day at lunch, but it’s hard. At least they let us out early on Tuesdays; I think for sports. No one’s said I’m missing Track yet. I guess I’ll go when someone does.
The Candy Connection is full of eighth- and ninth-grade boys. One of them looks way older. He has long sandy bangs and a blue-and-white striped turtleneck on, with the sleeves rolled up, and keeps looking at my boobs. I really want him to stop.
I look around. The whole store is boys, except for an eighth-grade girl by the Sweethearts. She has perfect-straight hair and green streaks over her eyelids. She sees me looking and grabs the older boy’s elbow. They chuckle to each other, and then look at me, and chuckle again. I wish Alice was here. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t like candy.
The wind smells like it has an icy shadow. If I go home now I feel like the rich girl wins.