“I was asking Mr. Headly about you earlier today. He mentioned that your grades are so good that he suggested taking the SAT this year and you...”

Misty’s eyes went downcast. She shrugged and clutched her hands in her lap.

“What is it, Misty? What worries you? You’re bound to do well. And depending on your score, you could retake it next year after a prep course and really kill it. Or, if the results are excellent, you could let it stand.”

She just shrugged again.

“Let’s talk about college, Misty. Are you worried about the cost? About leaving home? About college studies being harder?”

“I’m just not very interested in college,” she said softly.

“I’m so surprised. But that’s not a decision you have to make now. In fact, you don’t even have to decide next year. More to the point, since college isn’t required, you can decide at any point that it’s not right for you. But it makes sense to be prepared in case you decide to give it a try.”

“It doesn’t feel right now,” she said.

“It probably seems a long way off,” Iris said. “Misty, will you look at me?” Iris asked gently.

Misty lifted her eyes and Iris was not surprised to see she was near tears. Oh, Troy was right. Something was wrong. “What’s bothering you, honey?” Iris asked. “You can say anything in this office and it will go no further.”

“Not even to Mr. Headly?” she asked softly.

“Especially not Mr. Headly,” she said. “Just you and me.”

“You won’t get it,” Misty said.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been a counselor for a while now. There isn’t much I haven’t heard. Plus, I bet I had some of the same worries when I was your age.”

The girl hesitated a long moment, contemplating by chewing on her lower lip. And then she spoke. “I’ll just be alone,” she whispered. “Why should I go away to a big school just to be alone?”

Iris was completely surprised by this. “Why would you be alone?”

Yet another self-conscious shrug. “I won’t have any friends.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Iris asked.

“You ever had a best friend?” Misty asked.

Iris nodded. “Sure.”

“You ever have a best friend drop you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I have. It’s very painful. Is that what happened, Misty?”

She nodded and her eyes filled with tears. It was a miracle they weren’t flooding over. “My best friend since eighth grade got a better friend. And they don’t like me.”

“Misty, are you being bullied? Picked on?” Iris asked. “It’s okay to tell me.”

She shook her head. “She...Stephanie...was my best friend. I mean, we liked other friends, but she was my best friend. For like two years. Now she’s Tiff’s best friend and I’m out. She does everything with Tiff—we don’t even talk on the phone or text anymore. They sit together at lunch, assembly, games. If I just show up and sit by them, they talk and laugh and ignore me. They do things together after school and I’m not invited.”

Iris frowned. “Do they say or do mean things?”

“Sometimes Tiff does and if she does Stephanie tells her to stop it, but she still wants to be Tiff’s friend and my ex-friend. It just sucks. I’ll get over it, I guess, but it just sucks.”

“Because it hurts,” Iris said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why three never works, but it seems to never work. Is that why you aren’t interested in the SAT?”

“Pretty much. My mom says to just get over it, that I deserve better friends, that in five years I won’t even remember it.”

“Well, your mom could be right, but just getting over things isn’t exactly easy. That takes time. I understand completely. You might change your mind about friends and college and SATs, if not this year, maybe next year.”

“I don’t need another place to not fit in,” Misty said. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I have to be honest with myself. I’ll never be cool.”

Iris pushed the tissue box toward her. “That’s not true. You have everything it takes to be well liked. You’re a nice person, you’re smart, you’re considerate.”

“I’m the size of an ugly sixth-grader with no boobs.”

“Be honest with me, Misty—is there any pushing, shoving, pinching, knocking books out of your arms, chasing you down online, sending mean texts or anything like that? Any bullying?”

She shook her head. “No. Steph is just done with me and Tiff hates me, that’s all. If you tell anyone, I will die. Because I am not a baby!”

Oh, Iris wanted to pull those girls into her office and just slap them senseless. It would never help Misty but Iris knew that if Tiffany was mean, she was probably troubled. Probably insecure. Or maybe spoiled. Or she lived in a home where cruelty was an acceptable way of life. Mean girls. There were always mean girls. They lasted a lifetime.

“I wasn’t expecting this at all,” Iris said. “And while you’re trying to work this out, trying to make new friends, better friends, I actually have a totally unrelated question for you.”

“What?”

“Do you have a study hall?”

“Fifth period, right after lunch. Why?”

“Do you need that study hall for schoolwork? Homework?”

“Sometimes I get my homework done in study hall, sometimes I like to read. My classes are all hard—please, I don’t want another class.”

“No, sir! I looked at your transcripts—you’re in accelerated classes, a straight-A student, I might add. I was wondering if you’d like to work in the office during your study hall. Primarily, my office.” She indicated the credenza behind her desk—it was stacked with notebooks, papers, folders. “This is material for the SAT prep courses, college requirements, scholarship information—all stuff I’m trying to get ready and keep up with. It needs to be sorted, stapled together, put into the right folders. I have to make sure every student has all the necessary information. Since you’re not taking the prep class, would you like to transfer your study hall to my office and give me a hand?”

Misty frowned and looked at Iris with suspicion. “Do you think if I do that you’ll convince me to take the test?”

Iris laughed. “I thought if you did that to help me, I might eventually catch up! I need an intern and I don’t have one yet. I need another counselor and I don’t have one of those, either. I work a lot of nights and weekends and I’d rather read. What are you reading right now?”

She looked away a little shyly. “Some romance called The Rosie Project...”

“I loved that book!” Iris said. “Well, if you’re interested I can find space for you, a cubicle at least, and on days you have homework you need to do, just do it. On days you have time to help me, I’ll set you up with a project. No pressure—it’s your call. But hey, if you’re busy ignoring your ex-friend and her new clique, maybe we could help each other out.”

Misty thought about this for a moment and finally smiled. “I could maybe try it for a little while, see if it works.”