Only one thing has improved—his big white leg cast is off. Now he’s got a black Velcro thing. A soft cast, I think it’s called.

I end up following him. Not on purpose. He’s just walking in the same general direction that I am. Even though I give him a ton of space, I can still hear what he’s saying into his cell phone.

“I keep telling the dude I can do more, Ren,” he says passionately. “Yeah, well, if he can’t get with our program today, he’s fired. I’ll take over my PT my damn self. I’m almost a week behind where I should be according to our schedule.”

Reeve abruptly stops at the chain-link fence, the one that runs along the football field. Practice is underway. The team stands in a big circle at midfield, stretching out together, clapping on beat every time they switch positions. Alex is in the center. I wonder if he’s the captain now.

None of the guys notice Reeve watching them. They don’t see him standing there, and they don’t notice when he walks away.

Don’t feel bad for him, I tell myself. Don’t feel anything for him.

Reeve slips off the path and heads toward the pool building. There’s a guy standing near the door, an older man in a full windbreaker suit. I don’t think he’s a teacher here; I’ve never seen him before. He’s got a clipboard with him and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Reeve. Hey, pal. You ready to get to work?”

After clapping Reeve on the back, the man tries to get the door for Reeve, hold it open for him. Reeve gives the guy a cold hard stare. “I’m always ready to work. Are you?”

The yearbook committee turns out to be a pretty popular club, especially for girls. I guess because if you’re on yearbook committee, you can make sure no bad photos of you get put in. That is a bonus. The library is filled with people sitting in small clusters, working on their tasks. Some are sorting through pictures in envelopes; some are working through page layouts; some are contemplating cover treatments and working out the costs per person.

There are a few boys here too. I get the sense that they’re more into the technology aspect, because they’ve already claimed spots at the computers. The girls mostly stand behind them and point at where they want things to go.

I see the girls from chemistry, sharing a chair with frowns already on their faces, sorting through piles of color pictures. They point and laugh at some of them, making gross-out faces and snickering to each other. “Let’s put in this one of Carrie sneezing,” one girl says. I sort of hope these girls do quit. They’re so mean. If I’m lucky enough to work on any collages, I’ll make sure not to let any unflattering photos in of anyone. Even people I don’t like.

It’s intimidating, though, to see that everyone already has a set job. What’s a newbie like me supposed to do? I lean against one of the library shelves near the back of the room and try to think of things I can say to the adviser, Mr. Kraus, when he arrives and the meeting officially gets started. I should probably introduce myself, maybe tell him about my collage experience, if I can even call it that. I wish I knew how to use some of the fancy school-owned digital cameras that kids are passing around the room, so I could help out with the photography, too. Maybe he’ll offer lessons on that sort of thing.

A few more people trickle into the library after me. One of them is Nadia Cho. She’s in her cheerleading practice clothes, and she hangs out near the door, like she won’t be able to stay long. She has a big envelope with her. Probably full of pictures of her friends.

I like Nadia. She looks sweet, like a young Lillia, but with bigger eyes and freckles.

I think about going up to her and saying hi, since we’ve never officially met each other. But then Rennie comes in behind her. Rennie’s not in her cheering workout clothes. Oh my gosh. Has she quit the squad, now that Reeve isn’t playing anymore? I could totally see her doing that.

Rennie wraps Nadia in a hug. It’s a tender one and it lasts for a few long seconds, definitely longer than the ones I see girls give each other between classes. Rennie peels herself away a bit and fusses with Nadia’s bangs while she tells her something I can’t hear. Nadia smiles up at Rennie and nods pertly. She hands Rennie her packet of pictures and bounds out the door.

At the stables, Lillia mentioned to Kat and me how weird and tense things have been between her and Rennie since homecoming. I press my lips together tight. It worries me to see Nadia being so chummy-chummy with Rennie. She’s not a good influence. Not at all. Plus Lillia is Nadia’s big sister. Nadia should be loyal to her, not to Rennie.

Mr. Kraus comes into the room. He’s an art teacher, so it makes total sense that yearbook is one of his responsibilities. “All right, everyone! Listen up!” The room quiets, but only a little bit. Most people keep talking. “We need the homecoming spread done this week, as well as foreign language clubs and fall sports.” He scans the room briefly. “If you’re new today, find someone and help them with their project.” He says all this without stopping, and then disappears into his office and closes the door.

Oh. Okay.

So it looks like yearbook is pretty much left up to the students.

I meander my way over to some girls who are uploading photos directly from the cameras, hoping I might pick up some pointers. I end up within earshot of Rennie. She’s working on the homecoming spread with another girl.

“We got more homecoming pictures today,” Rennie says, dumping out Nadia’s envelope. She shuffles through the photos slowly, her eyes lingering on each one.

The other girl doesn’t bother to check any of them out. She keeps her eyes on the computer screen. “I doubt we’ll need them. You’ve collected, like, more homecoming photos than senior pictures. It’s only a one-page spread.”

“We want to make sure we get the perfect shot,” Rennie insists, her voice sharp.

“I think I have,” says the girl, with a smile. There’s a picture of Lillia and Reeve in the center of the computer screen. Them dancing, up onstage. Him holding her tight, gazing at her with a big grin. Before he saw me. Before I went . . . crazy.

I force myself to look away.

The girl taps the screen with her pencil tip and says, “I say we build the entire page around this shot.”

Rennie shakes her head, takes over the computer mouse, and clicks onto another picture. One of the entire homecoming court. “This one is better. But, really, we should wait until we get all the pictures in before we make the final choice. We’ve got to be thorough.”