School Bus Madness "Earth to Wendy," Nancy Jean said. "Earth calling Wendy." I turned from gawking at Julian York and saw that my friends had all been watching me watch him. Shelley told the others, "Wendy has developed a sudden fascination with Julian." "No, I haven't," I protested. I didn't want Lisa, who can be helpful to the point of being annoying, to decide that it would be a friendly thing to wave Julian over to our table. But I didn't need Lisa to complicate matters. "Hi, Julian," Anna said. Let her be teasing, I hoped. I turned around, and there he was. "Hi, everybody," Julian said. "How're you doing, Wendy?" My friends all wore that ooo-a-boy expression that we should have outgrown after first grade. When, before, had Julian ever approached a tableful of girls and tried to strike up a conversation? Fortunately, we weren't the only ones there: Besides the five of us, five ninth graders had taken over the other half of the table, and they'd unrolled a huge posterboard chart that they were frantically writing on, coloring in, and gluing stuff to, all at a level of frenzy that indicated they needed to have it finished by next period, if not sooner.
