1269_UgliesFreeBook

UGLIES 239
Tally frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s obvious. Ever since you got here. I should
have seen it right away.”
“I never—” Tally started, but her voice betrayed her.
“What are you saying? You think Croy’s right?”
Shay sighed. “I’m just saying that—” She stopped and
turned to face Tally. “Croy? What about Croy?”
“He was talking to me before lunch, and he noticed my
sweater and asked if I got a sleeping bag. And he figured that
after nine days getting here I had too much SpagBol left.”
“You had too much what?” Shay’s expression was one of
total confusion. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Remember when I got here? I told everyone that . . .”
Tally trailed off, for the first time noticing Shay’s eyes. They
were lined with red, as if she hadn’t slept. “Wait a second,
what did you think I was talking about?”
Shay held out a hand, fingers splayed. “This.”
“What?”
“Hold out yours.”
Tally opened one hand, making a mirror image of
Shay’s.
“Same size,” Shay said. She turned both her palms up.
“Same blisters, too.”
Tally looked down and blinked. If anything, Shay’s
hands were in worse shape, red and dry and cracked with
the ragged edges of burst blisters. Shay always worked so
hard, diving in first, always taking the hardest jobs.