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Sort of. As further proof of how pitiful my life was, none of the popular kids even knew who I was, and the gossip had died out by mid-morning, where...s when the cheerleaders had mooned the track team, that had kicked off an entire week of drama. So the year was drawing to a pitiful close.About a week later, I saw Christie on a Friday afternoon on the sidewalk, and she looked like she had been crying. When I asked her what was wrong, she began to sniffle.“Mike broke up with me. He said that. “Would you like some breakfast? How about somescrambled eggs with onions and cheese?”“Sure, thanks,” I said. I stuck out an arm to propmyself up against the wall of the hallway.“What’s wrong, Brad?” she said. I held my hand over myeyes to block out the sun. My pupils were adjusting tothe light, and I could see her face now, looking at meover the top of her morning newspaper. Lookingconcerned.“Nothing,” I said. “I’m okay. Just. More

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