"Ah, I'm sorry, Marcie," Mr. Bryant said, "but I can't hug you. I can send for the nurse, though."

In spite of everything, this made me laugh. "So she can hug me for you?"

The next week at school was quiet for a change, and yet it was a very exciting week for me. Mrs. Earshon's tea was working! At first I wasn't sure, but each day I let out a little birdseed from the bags I used to stuff my bra.

It looked like my original supply of tea would run out by Saturday or so, but on Tuesday after school, Cassie gave me a plastic bag (with a wink!) full of the same mixture, more than twice the amount Mrs. Earshon had given me.

"Once it starts working, you're supposed to stop taking it," Cassie said. "If you have any left, pass it on."

"Cool! Thanks!" I replied, and she ran off to join Mahon the Man.

On Wednesday at lunch, Carla gave me a serious look. "It's already Wednesday, Marcie," she commented.

"Yeah, so?"

"Everybody wants to know what you're going to do this week."

"Do I have to do something?"

"You have every week so far. You don't want to disappoint your fans."

"'Fans'? If I have fans, this is the week I will disappoint them. And hopefully next week and the week after, too."

"We'll see," Carla replied as she shoved some chips into her mouth. "You seem to have a talent for finding hot water, no matter where it's boiling."

"That's pretty good," Eden commented. "Did you make that up?"

"Yes I did," Carla replied proudly. "I think I'm going to get the copyright."

Wednesday passed without incident, but Thursday morning something *did* happen, and it wasn't funny at all.

I woke up thinking of Alice. Mrs. Earshon had been right — Alice had needed my help. Maybe she still did. In my mind's eye I could see her face from last Saturday — how glum she was about Mr. Bruce continuing to work.

As I turned it over in my head, I realized that maybe there *was* something I could do. I could visit Mr. Bruce.

Remembering my first day of school, I figured that I could catch him in his office before homeroom. He'd been pretty embarrassed when he saw me at the hospital. Maybe if he saw me in a dress at school, it would help him remember his promise to quit teaching.

Right! He felt so guilty when I visited the hospital, seeing me at school, on his own turf — it would guilt-trip him directly into retirement!

As I looked through my closet, I tried to find my most girly outfit.

Unfortunately, I didn't have anything that was very frilly or girlish. In the end, I settled for the outfit Ms. Price had pulled out of lost and found. I hadn't worn it since the first day, but it was a pretty nice. In case you don't remember, it was an aqua tiered skirt, a white top with loose sleeves, and a pair of light brown shoes. The shoes had a very low heel, which was perfect. My feet were still aching from dancing in high heels.

As I walked to school, another idea came to me: I could ask him — just an innocent question! — whether he'd gotten rid of the girls' tennis outfits that he used for punishment. I could ask if he'd give them to me, now that he wasn't going to use them. I chuckled to myself.

The closer I got to his office, the better I felt about what I was doing. It had to work.

I walked past the principal's office, where Mrs. Zeff had grabbed me three weeks earlier. I entered the door that Jerry had led me though, full of encouragement. I slowed down as my footsteps echoed in the dark hallway above the gym. It was kind of a creepy place. Finally, after the lost-and-found bin, I arrived at Mr. Bruce's cage-like office.

He was sitting in his chair with his back to the door. I knocked, but he didn't answer. I called his name, but there was no response. Laughing to myself, I realized he was asleep, and slipped quietly up to his desk.

The moment I saw his face, I realized that something was terribly wrong. His head had fallen back, and his chin rested against his shoulder. White spittle trailed from the corner of his mouth.

I stood stock-still staring for a minute or so, and then, full of fear, I reached for his neck to feel for a pulse. There was none. Involuntarily I jerked my hand back, because his skin was so clammy and cold. With my other hand I tested my own neck to be sure I knew where to find the pulse, then tried him a second time, and once again, my hand jerked back by itself. Hardly knowing what I did, I backed away, away from him, until I bumped into a file cabinet.

I gulped, trying to wet my throat, and fished in my bag for my cell phone. Once I found it, I fumbled it open, and dialed 911.

"What is the nature of your emergency?"

"Hi, I'm Marcie Donner," I croaked inaudibly. I cleared my throat, squeezed my eyes shut, and started again, this time in a louder voice. "My name is Marcie Donner. I'm at Tierson High School, and I think my teacher is dead. His name is Donny Bruce."

The woman on the other end asked me some questions; she wanted me to take a pulse and to describe what I saw. She told me she was sending an ambulance, and asked me to contact a responsible adult, like a teacher or the principal.

"Don't hang up!" I cried, but it was too late. She was gone.

I looked at Mr. Bruce's desk. Next to his phone was a list of school numbers. Trying not to look at Mr. Bruce, I dialed the principal's office, and Denise answered.

"Oh, Denise!" I said, and began sobbing, "I think Mr. Bruce is dead!"

She spoke to me in a calm voice. I told her that I'd called 911. She said something to Mr. Bryant, and then kept on talking to me, trying to keep me from flipping out.

Soon Mr. Bryant appeared. He put his hand on Mr. Bruce's neck, took the phone from me, and told Denise, "I've got it from here. Yes, she's right." To me, he said, "Will you be okay if we wait for the medics?"

I nodded dumbly, hardly knowing what he said.

"I'm sorry," he told me, "but I need to keep an eye on him and I don't want to let you out of my sight." We sat in the chairs outside Mr. Bruce's office, the same spot where I'd waited for Mr. Bruce on my first day. I hung my head and wrung my hands. Mr. Bryant put his hand on my shoulder.

After an eternity, Denise arrived with the medics, and she led me back to her office. She gave me a drink of water, and I realized that I was shaking.

When Mr. Bryant returned, Denise told him that she'd already called Mr. Bruce's wife. "Do you mind if I go and drive her to the hospital? She's a very close friend."

"Of course," Mr. Bryant said. "Take the day, if you need it. Whatever the school can do, remember. Call me for anything."

"Can I go with her?" I asked. "She's my friend, too!"

Denise looked to Mr. Bryant, who shook his head. "I'm sorry, Marcie. There's no way I can let you go. It's policy." He gestured to Denise, who gathered her things.

I sniffed. "But there's no way I can go to class today!" I cried.

"I understand," Mr. Bryant said. "However, it's a point of law. I can only release you to your aunt."

Denise hugged me tight and said, "Sorry, kiddo." To Mr. Bryant she said, "Can you give the kid a hug? She needs it." Then she left.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Marcie," Mr. Bryant said, "but I can't hug you. I can send for the nurse, though."

In spite of everything, this made me laugh. "So she can hug me for you?"

He shrugged in an embarrassed way. "If you want to sit here, you're welcome," he said. "You might be more comfortable up in the nurse's office, though. She's better at dealing with, uh... girls' issues, uh... I mean emotional issues, than I am. But once you feel better, you ought to go to class. Being busy will help you."

"I don't think so," I said, and another wave of silent tears spilled from my eyes.

"Let me try something," Mr. Bryant said. "Don't move." He hurried into his office and made a phone call. When he came back, he used the PA to call Ms. Price. "I need someone to cover the office," he explained.

Of course, once Ms. Price arrived, she gave me a hug, but had to let me go so she could pick up Denise's duties. Soon after, Aunt Jane arrived, a little out of breath. "I ran over as soon as I could," she panted. Then she held out her arms and said, "Come here, kid," and she hugged me until I couldn't cry any more.

The moment I finished, she said, "Come on. Let's get out of here. We need to find Denise and Alice."