I notice that Max talks easily with people. He smiles easily. Engages easily.

I hear him make plans with everyone.

“We should totally do that!” he says about everything.

He’s been here just over a week and already he knows every single person in the senior class. And they know him.

“Maybe I’ll be valedictorian,” I hear Max say to a group of people after class.

Maybe not, I think. I will beat him. I will win.

Twenty minutes have gone by and I’m still confused about question number one.

I actually consider cheating, but Ignacio is sitting next to me and I know for a fact that he won’t do well on the test. He’s an idiot. So I don’t bother looking at his answer sheet.

I know I’m not supposed to waste time on just one question. My SAT prep class taught me that, so I move on to the next question. I plug in numbers. I pretend I know what I am doing.

The bell rings sooner than I think it should. I have barely finished filling out the exam.

“Whew! That was hard!” I say to no one in particular.

“Really?” Ignacio answers. “I thought that was really easy.”

I had a sinking feeling at the beginning of the quiz that I was going to fail. Now, it morphs into a certainty.

Dr. Gellar, our dean of students, is annoyed with me because I am not getting to the point.

“Victoria, I have papers to grade.”

“Okay, Max Carter has a higher GPA than me. But he transferred over from a school in England. So does that weigh in? I mean, he’s been here just over a week. And they have a whole different system over there.”

Dr. Gellar looks at me over her glasses.

“Max Carter hasn’t even taken the SATs,” I say. That’s something that Dr. Gellar will understand for sure.

“Victoria, I don’t know what you’re getting at. If you’re asking me if you’re still in the running to be valedictorian, I suppose the answer is yes. You’re a gifted student with an excellent academic record. You’ve had near-perfect attendance and are an exemplary student.”

“You suppose the answer is yes?” I say.

“Victoria, these things aren’t decided until all the grades are in, and there are many gifted seniors who are very close together in merit.”

“But he just got here. It doesn’t seem fair that someone can sneak in and steal away my place.”

“Victoria, please stop wasting my time. I’m not going to guarantee anything until all the grades are in.”

This answer will have to satisfy me. I push myself out of the metal chair, which unfortunately makes a horrible noise, and head out of Dr. Gellar’s office. I am just about to close the door when I remember I should say thank you. No use in making her all mad at me. She might let my standing slip.

I poke my head back in.

“Dr. Gellar?” I say.

“What?” she snaps.

“Thank you,” I say.

I close the door, pull an apple from my bag, and take a big bite out of it. It is delicious.

“You’re late, Egg,” Martin says.

“So what?” I say. “I’m sure I didn’t miss anything.”

It is unfortunate that the Science Fiction and Fantasy Club is filled with geeks. But they are the only people that I can talk to ad nauseam about the kind of stuff I actually like. The truth is, socially, most of them are even worse off than me.

“Okay,” says Hasan. “Who’s in favor of taking a field trip to the Museum of Television and Radio and watching their screening of Pilots of Science Fiction Television on the thirty-first?”

We all raise our hands.

I agree to go only because I was planning on going anyway. No use in running into everyone there and making it be all weird. Might as well join the group.

“Don’t forget that we have tickets to the midnight screening of New Mars tonight,” Hasan says.

“New Mars is going to SUCK,” I say.

“Egg, you say that about everything,” Rue says.

“Not everything.” Hasan comes to my defense, just to sound as though he has his own opinion. “And she’s mostly right.”

“I have high standards,” I say. “I don’t settle for flashy special effects and an overly dramatic soundtrack.”

Martin winces. Those are his weaknesses. Martin only likes Hollywood science fiction. He’s never read the books. He’s never seen a foreign science fiction film or an indie science fiction film. No one here has. I like to see everything. So I always have the broader net to draw from.

“But I’m still coming to the screening,” I say. “I’m always curious about a new space film. I hear they used a new technique on the animatronics for the Martians. I’m interested in seeing it in action.”

We finish up some more club business and then the meeting is over.

Martin and Rue, the only people I can stand talking to, come up to me outside after the club meeting.

“We’re going to the New Bev to see Raiders of the Lost Ark beforehand. Want to join us?”

“No can do,” I say. “I’ve got my internship at the American Cinematheque.”

I flick Rue’s fedora with my fingers.

“Get rid of the hat, Rue.”

“Get rid of the cloak, Egg.”

She smiles at me. I want to smile back, but it might break me.

Egg is a woman who can’t afford to get too close to anyone.

“So I need you to label and stuff all these envelopes for the gala party,” Wanda says.

There are about a million invitations.

“I’d like to go to the special screening of A Dream for the Moon,” I say.

“I think Lark Austin has totally sold out,” Wanda says. “This doesn’t compare to her earlier, low-budget films. I can’t believe she spent millions of dollars to make a film only to take all the color out of it in post-production. Why not just make it a black-and-white movie?”

“Saba Greer will be there with the director for a Q & A,” I say. “And the movie’s not coming out in theaters for another two months.”

Wanda likes obscure independent films. She programs all the cult films. She’s a big purist. Unlike me she doesn’t also like the big splashy Hollywood films.

“She plays Egg in Terminal Earth,” I say.

“I know who she is, Egg. How could I not?” Wanda points at my cloak and smiles. She’s not laughing at me, like other people do, and I like that most about her.

“How about I put you on duty for the special prefilm reception? You can help Eduardo set up the tables and then mingle at the party,” she says.

“That would be great,” I say, and then I stuff the envelopes with much more gusto.

In a little over a month, I will meet Egg herself!