Last Christmas he had been sent to a juvenile hall in northern California for chopping down the varsity tree, which fell on the snack bar. There was the all-night party aboard the cruise ship she still had to pay for, and then there was Russ Desmond. Going to say in her speech, although she had stayed up half the night worrying about it. She still hadn't figured out exactly what she was She would have the sun directly in her eyes when she addressed the stands. Sara thought it was a bum rap that Sanders's ceremony wasn't first. Sanders's stadium was undergoing major renovations. The time had been moved up to accommodate nearby Sanders High's ceremony.

The graduation ceremony was to be held at three in the afternoon in the football stadium.

No doubt there was going to be talk when the rest of the basketball players saw how he had been favored. Jessica must have slipped on her glasses for a second here and there during the game against Holden High. And a couple of those were remarkably sharp. Michael Olson, who had been dropped from the team at the start of the season, was in more pictures than anyone else. 'I love it,' Sara said aloud, noting something else unusual about the basketball section. There was a blurred photograph of Nick Grutler going to the basket with what could have been a swollen pumpkin in his hand. '' Where are your glasses, Jessie?' ' 'Bug off, Sara.'' In the basketball section in particular, and to a lesser extent throughout the football and wrestling pages, every other picture looked as if it had been shot underwater. A moment later she was laughing her head off. Quickly she turned to the sports section. The cover was dark blue, featureless except for a silver name tag on the top and a tiny gold rope emblem in the lower right corner, which Sara had to assume bore some relationship to Tabb High's bronco-bull mascot. Did I not say it months ago? Sara smiled with glee as she squatted on the floor of the recently reconstructed snackīar and tore open one of the boxes and pulled out a copy of the annual.

There had been some concern-so the rumor went-about the quality of the athletic photographs. The yearbook club had been late sending the book to the printers. The books had only arrived the night before and had to be unpacked and sorted into alphabetical order. The task called for a crack-of-dawn rising. As ASB president, she had inherited the job of passing out the yearbooks. The last day of school began early for Sara Cantrell.

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