I found myself at school the next morning trying to desperately come up with a more plausible story than the one I told Alison, or at least to fill in the holes in my horrid lie, failing miserably even as I ran right into my friends.
The nook by the door where we all met every morning was in full sunlight, giving me a clear view of the worry on their collective faces. They crowded around me, touching me as if to reassure themselves I was in one piece. Simon's glasses caught the light, his thin face puckered with concern, heavy dark hair falling in his eyes over and over again.
"Syd," he said. "What happened to your face?"
Stupid bruise. How embarrassing. Even more so that I had to lie to cover it up. "I think I ran into a tree." So weak. Pathetic even. But my little friend actually winc
