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The second time they had talked was the previous year. Regan was walking out of the bathroom when Mandy happened to be coming in. Regan stopped, turned around, and said, “Mandy.”

Mandy also turned. “Yes. I’m glad we’re about to have this conversation.”

“I just want you to know that the things you heard about me aren’t true,” Regan said.

“I’m starting to figure that out.”

“I really don’t have a problem with you, and I think it’s stupid that we’re supposed to hate each other. It’s just not worth it to feel awkward,” Regan said.

“Yeah, and to think it’s all over a stupid boy,” Mandy said. “Really, we should be on the same side.” But Mandy had been rude to Regan ever since.

Luckily, Mandy’s gossip about Regan had been overtaken by an incident near the end of the school year. A drama had exploded when two people were caught having oral sex in the parking lot; they were discovered because they were skipping class. One of the two, who was black, left the school permanently. She told students that white people were getting her kicked out and asked a group of boys to gang up on Wyatt, who had gossiped about the incident, including to the head of the English department. They did. They found him in a classroom, took their shirts off, and threw them on the ground, ready to fight him. He was able to summon administrators, who broke up the mob and suspended the boys. For the rest of the day, the school police escorted Wyatt to his classes. At least, that was what Wyatt said. Sometimes Regan believed that Wyatt was James Johnson’s gossip mill.

A few days after play practice, Wyatt approached Regan in the hallway. For once, he didn’t tease her. “So what’s new?” he asked.

“Not much. My life is pretty standard.”

“That’s good.” He paused expectantly.

Regan took the hint. “So, uh, what’s new with you?”

“A lot.”

“Is everything okay?” Regan asked.

“I think it’s going to be. I got rid of a lot of things, and I think it’ll make things better.”

“Like what things? Objects or people?”

“Both. We broke up.”

The next day, Mandy passed out during class. She left school in an ambulance and didn’t return for a week, later citing “exhaustion.”

DANIELLE, ILLINOIS | THE LONER

Danielle was in a local store helping her friends hunt for Homecoming formalwear when she saw the dress. Strapless, satin, and short, the fuchsia number nicely complemented her relatively dark hair and eyes. Along with her “annoying, big, Hispanic eyebrows,” those were the only features she had inherited from her Costa Rican father, who lived in Florida. The dress came to mid-thigh and showed off her long, slender legs. The top of the skirt puffed out, disguising hips that Danielle was self-conscious about. It was nothing like any of her other clothes. She liked the idea of wearing something that no one expected her to wear.

She called her mother. “I found a dress I like. Can I get it?” she asked.

“I thought you weren’t going to Homecoming,” her mother said. “You don’t need a new dress unless you’re going.”

Danielle hated school dances and had broadcasted that she had no intention of going to Homecoming. Why would she want to spend any more time with her classmates than was required? On weekends, Danielle usually stayed home and read, watched movies, or researched Internet topics that interested her. But she loved this dress. “Well, I guess I’m going now,” she said.

Danielle knew her mother would get her the dress because her mother understood her. Danielle was a lot like her mother, tough and independent, and she appreciated their relationship. “Since we’re the same, personality-wise, I can tell her pretty much whatever. And she has a good sense of humor, and is up for doing some funny things,” Danielle said. “I admire that she doesn’t take crap from people, although sometimes I wish she wasn’t so in-your-face about it; it’s really embarrassing at restaurants when she gets pissed off. And I like that she doesn’t need constant interaction with people. And the past couple of years she’s seemed to give me more trust. For the most part, it’s a pretty chill, understated