and although she told me that it would be better if I let other people work out their own dilemmas,
she definitely understood about Shelly Stalls and her hair and told me she was glad I’d had the self-control to do nothing more than restrain her.
Shelly was back the next day with a head full of braids. And of course she got everybody whispering about me, but I just ignored them.
The facts spoke for themselves. Bryce didn’t go anywhere near her for the rest of the year.
That’s not to say that Bryce held my hand after that, but he did start being a little friendlier to me.
Especially in the sixth grade, after Mr. Mertins sat us right next to each other in the third row back.
Sitting next to Bryce was nice. He was nice. He’d say “Hi, Juli” to me every morning, and once in a while I’d catch him looking my way.
He’d always blush and go back to his own work, and I couldn’t help but smile.
He was so shy. And so cute! We talked to each other more, too. Especially after Mr. Mertins moved me behind him.
Mr. Mertins had a detention policy about spelling, where if you missed more than seven out of twenty-five words,
you had to spend lunch inside with him, writing your words over and over and over again.
The pressure of detention made Bryce panic. And even though it bothered my conscience, I’d lean in and whisper answers to him,
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