"Two weeks later I'm the last one in the locker room to change for gym. The click of heels makes me look up. It's Carmen Sanchez. I don't freak out. Instead, I stand and look right at her. "He was back in Fairfield, you know," she tells me. "I know," I say, remembering the hand warmers in my locker. But he left. Like a whisper, he was there and then disappeared. She looks almost nervous, vulnerable. "You know those giant stuffed-animal prizes at the carnival? The kind practically nobody wins, except the lucky few? I've never won one." "Yeah. I've never won one, either." "Alex was my giant prize. I hated you for taking him away," she admits. I shrug. "Yeah, well, stop hating me. I don't have him, either." "I don't hate you anymore," she says. "I've moved on." I swallow and then say, "Me, too." Carmen chuckles. Then, just as she walks out of the room, I hear her mumble, "Alex sure as hell hasn't." What's that supposed to mean?"