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The Italian meatballs were delicious. Jane spooned over hot, buttery noodles and enjoyed every bit of it. Jane's dad had three helpings.

"You girls could open a restaurant," Jane's mother said. "If you ever want a job cooking for my school, let me know." Her mom's school was a preschool where she worked as a teacher. "Our kitchen staff could definitely use some new ideas. What else did you girls do this afternoon?"

"Nothing," Jane said.

"Same," Caroline said.

It was one of their favorite replies to their mother's questions.

"Caroline, I saw you got a letter from the senator in the mail. Was that anything interesting? Had you written to him about something?" she asked again.

Jane almost never got any mail. But last year she had written to the senator about women health. It was an assignment on writing a formal letter. The Senator had written back, thanking her for her concern. Jane still had the letter.

"Actually," Caroline said, obviously trying not to look too pleased, "he was congratulating me on placing third in the state on the debate competition I did last semester."

"Oh, honey! Go get the letter. We want to see it!"

Caroline rolled her eyes at Jane, but she retrieved the letter from her room and handed it to their mother. She read the letter out loud, then passed it to Jane's father. Their dad didn't say anything but he beamed proudly at Caroline.

"We have to frame this!" Jane's mom said. "We can hang it in the hall, with all of your school pictures on the news." Then she stopped and looked quickly at Jane. "Do you still have your letter from the senator, dear? We can frame both of them."

"No," Jane lied. "I threw it away."

She was going to throw it away, too, as soon as she got to her room. Her letter was nothing like her sister's. Everyone in her entire class had written a letter to the senator and everyone had gotten the same letter back. The only one who had gotten a different letter had been Lucy Adams. Somehow even the law-maker had known that you couldn't write back to Lucy with a form letter. Her mom gave Jane a worried look. She pretended not to see it. She carried her empty plate to the dishwasher. Then she slipped upstairs to make another entry in her book.

~*~

On Sunday afternoon Emily came over to hang around in her room and just watched a senseless show.

"We need a motto for our club, too," Emily suddenly said. "Like 'Winning isn't everything.' or 'Useful as the G in Lasagna.'"

Jane giggled, but then she had a sudden inspiration. "I have it. 'Not all losers are born. Some are made. Others have losing thrust upon them.'"

"Where did you get that?" Emily asked suspiciously.

"I heard it somewhere," Jane said with a shrug. "About being born great. You know...you just have to change it around."

"That's a good motto I may say," her best friend admitted at last. Jane smiled. So Caroline was perfect. What else was new? Jane was glad that she and Emily had formed their silly club. There was something satisfying about being a founding officer of the one organization of which her sister could never be a member.

~*~

On Monday morning, Jane rode the bus to school and met Emily in the back seats. Sometimes Jane and Emily would hang together in the parking lot before the bell. Today, they just sat on the curb.

"Hey," Emily said in a low voice. "Look."

Jane looked up. She didn't see anything. Caroline and her group of friends were playing volleyball. A bunch of boys watched them, cheering them on. Farther along the curb, Lucy Adams was sitting all alone, her blonde curls hanging down over her face. She was scribbling something in the notebook that she always carried with her. Everyone knew that she was always writing poems.

"No Jane, over there," Emily said.

Then Jane saw her. She was tall, around Caroline's height. Maybe in her twenties. Or even younger, but old enough to be a teacher. She didn't look like any teacher Jane had ever seen. In fact, she was the most unteacherly person she had ever seen. The most noticeable thing about her was her hair. It fell down her back in long, shinning, silky waves. She looked like Rapunzel. And her hair was pure gold under the sun as if Rumpelstiltskin had spent all night spinning it out of gold. Her face was beautiful, too. Very beautiful. And her clothes were elegant. She wore a knitted sweater and white collar out, but under it, she wore a thin, swirly, shimmery skirt, even longer than her hair. She stood watching the students at the volleyball court.

"I think," Emily spoke in a thick, trance-like voice. "I think I'm in love."

This was not the first time that her best friend had been in love. Emily had already been in love with two movie stars, one lead singer in a rock band, and a check-out cashier named Stephanie who worked at their local supermarket.

Jane couldn't take any of Emily's love interests seriously, but at least none of them had lasted more than a week or two. Rapunzel was definitely the best-looking one yet. She looked like she came straight out of a Disney movie.

The bell rang. Jane and Emily joined the crowd of high-schoolers. Jane saw Rapunzel entered the building, too.

During morning announcements, Jane found herself wondering what someone like Rapunzel was doing in her school. She was too young to be somebody's mother. Maybe she was somebody's sister. Or a substitute? Jane had never seen a substitute with hair like that.

On the way to first-period science class, Jane and Emily looked into every classroom off the main hall, hoping for another glimpse of Rapunzel. They didn't see her. But when they turned into the science lab, there she was! Deep in conversation with Mr. O'Hara.

"Good morning, class," Mr. O'Hara said when all the students were in their seats. "I'd like to introduce our new science teacher, Ms. Grace Anderson. Ms. Anderson will be working with you for the next semester, as part of her master program at the university. She's going to explain what she has planned for us."

"Good morning," Ms. Anderson said. Her voice was as beautiful as her hair, and face, and a skirt. It was soft and low and a bit husky. Jane glanced over at Emily. Emily looked ready to faint.

"I'm going to be working with you on your science fair projects," Ms. Anderson went on. "I think you all know that the annual science fair will take place on Thursday, February 28. I hope some of you develop projects that will be chosen for the regional science competition or even the state science competition. But most of all, I hope this will be a chance for all of you to learn more about the beauty and wonder of science."

If Mr. O'Hara had ever talked about the beauty and wonder of science, the class would have snickered. But as Jane looked around, no one was snickering now. Everyone was captivated by the beautiful creature standing in front of them.