“The tulip in their yard had blown apart in all the rain, and the words Ms. Mackenzie said last week slid into Ivy’s brain: Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold. It sounded like poetry. She’d have to look it up next time she was in the library. She sighed and plodded onward. All through the first half of the day Ivy kept her head down and her mouth shut and tried to think herself invisible. At lunchtime she headed for a table at the far side of the cafeteria. She sat with her back to th...e room and took her sandwich out of her sack. The peanut butter tasted like salty glue. The cherry jam her mom had brought home from the gas station tasted like corn syrup. Her lie that she’d been sick over the weekend seemed to be coming true. She didn’t feel good at all. When the sandwich was half gone she took out her banana. It was soft. She pulled the peel halfway off, then sat looking at it glumly. “Oh, yum.” Tate slid onto the bench across from her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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