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Dime by E.R. Frank7/5/2023 ![]() ![]() How old are you? is the first thing she asks after Simon leaves us alone. ![]() SIMON CLOSES HIS eyes, jabs his finger on the class list hanging over the science counter, and lands on Alex. She’s got a gap between her two front teeth. She’s wearing a purple-and-black turtleneck and jeans that look brand-new, and she grins at everybody like she’s totally psyched to meet us. She’s got shiny black hair down to her behind and gray eyes that take up her whole face, and she’s as skinny as I am. Simon told us she was coming, but up until this second I’d forgotten all about it. I look up to see a girl standing in the doorway. But Tim doesn’t kick back, even when I kick him again, and then I notice there’s this massive hush in the room. Fish, I write, and then I kick Tim and make a gagging face to remind him how we remember that one: Fish tastes icky. . . . On a test he’ll put them together, and we’ll have to figure out that astrology means the study of stars. Things are quiet while pencils scratch, sounding just like gerbils making a nest out of cedar chips and Kleenex. Ology,he says out loud, so we can hear how it sounds. He leans back against the science counter, mixes the deck a couple of times, and hooks one ankle over the other, the way he always does. Our teacher, Simon, is in front of the room, shuffling flash cards. THE FIRST TIME we all meet Stacy, it’s just a regular morning. ![]()
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