STANDING BY MY LOCKER, I can already feel the sweat circles forming on my T-shirt. Nobody can see that, I can assure myself. Not through the enormous sweater I'm wearing, or beneath my nearly impenetrable wall-o-hair. Still, I pull the drab-yellow knit away from my armpits. My mother took one look at me this morning and managed not to mention what she was probably thinking--that I won't win any popularity contest dressed like a giant giant blob of Dijon mustard. Instead, she joked,"Are you in there?" and kind of paused while spreading the Grey Poupon on my sandwich, her eyes flitting between the jar and my sweater. She's subtle like that. And I'm perfectly aware this is not my best coloer. It doesn't make my hazel eyes "pop" or help me stand out in the crowd. In fact, this is particular shade or brownish-yellow is a perfect complement to both my hair and the painted-block walls of our school. Which is exactly why I'm wearing it.
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RandomVicky Decker has perfected the art of hiding in plain sight, quietly navigation the halls of her high school undetected except by her best (and only) friend, Jenna. But then Jenna moves away, Vicky's isolation becomes unbearable. So she decides to i...
