What She Left Behind by Ellen Marie Wiseman Read Free Book Online Page A

help,” a guy said, handing her the paper. His light blue eyes were nearly silver, his hair the purplish black of a raven.
    “Thanks,” she said, feeling blood warm her cheeks.
    “No problem,” he said, smiling. He was hanging on to his girlfriend’s hand, even though she was still moving. Then his girlfriend stopped and laughed, glancing over her shoulder to see what he was doing. Her hair was blond and long, her legs smooth and tanned. She looked cool and pretty and amused, the kind of girl, Izzy knew, she herself would never be. Raven Boy’s girlfriend glanced at Izzy with little interest, then yanked on his hand, pulling him forward. He shrugged and disappeared into the crowd.
    Izzy smoothed the wrinkled papers with her fingers, trying not to smudge the ink. She found the one she needed, shoved the others in her backpack, and followed the other students into homeroom. Stuffed and mounted animal skins lined the walls: beaver, rabbits, a fox, a muskrat, a crow, and a pheasant. Jars filled with pig embryos lined the shelves above the windows, and a faint hint of formaldehyde filled the air. Mr. Hudson sat reading a book at his desk while the students talked and laughed, sitting on desks and the backs of chairs. A group of kids with black hair, black clothes, tattoos, and multiple piercings sat near the rear of the room. The boys who bumped into Izzy earlier were dropping water balloons out the windows. A group of jocks and cheerleaders sat near the windows, their arms draped around each other.
    Izzy grit her teeth and walked over to Mr. Hudson’s desk, her stomach doing flip-flops. She didn’t understand why she was so nervous. She’d been the new kid before. Four times, as a matter of fact. After her mother was put in jail, she moved to another town to live with her grandmother, where she had to start over in a new school. Three years later, after her grandmother died, Izzy was put into foster care and had to change schools going into fifth grade. Two years after that, her foster father put his wife in the hospital after a drunken argument. That night, Izzy was moved to a different foster home. The next day she had to start seventh grade at a new school. When her second set of foster parents moved to another state, she was moved yet again, going into her freshman year, this time to a home with an alcoholic mother. For three years, Izzy did her best to take care of the two other kids, one the biological seven-year-old son, the other a ten-year-old girl in the system. When their foster mother was too drunk to function, Izzy cooked and made sure the other kids had clean clothes to wear to school. The day before Izzy finished her junior year, her foster mother drove the family minivan into a lake and drowned. A week later, Izzy was sent to Peg and Harry’s. So, when it came to being the new kid, she knew the drill.
    But this year was different for a number of reasons. Fitting in would be tougher than usual because most kids in a senior class have been together since junior high. At least on her first day at her last school, she’d been a new freshman like everyone else. Being the new kid in a senior class felt like crashing a private party.
    Now, she held out the form from the office, waiting for Mr. Hudson to look up and take it. She felt the other students glancing curiously toward the front of the room, then nudging each other, pointing and staring. The teacher kept his head down, reading his book. Little by little, the laughing and conversation faded.
    “Hey, nice backpack!” a male voice yelled. “You going hiking?”
    Everyone laughed. Izzy felt her face growing hot. What was wrong with her backpack? She cleared her throat to get Mr. Hudson’s attention. Just then, a wrapped condom hit her in the head and fell to the floor. She looked at her new classmates. A group of girls giggled and turned away. One of the girls was Raven Boy’s girlfriend. Raven Boy stared at her, searching her face. Was that coldness