[i]Free bird, foul word, hit before I hurt. Lying, leering, laughing, looking, let lost lay low.[/i]

[i]He hurt her, hurts her, will hurt her. The metal man met his maker.[/i]

There were more new people. Greg sighed as he heard their voices join in with the chorus already in his head. Just read the book, he told himself. Don't worry about them, and they won't worry about you. 

One of them asked the others a question - how were they? Greg found himself answering before he knew what was happening.

"They are okay. Nervous. That one wishes you wouldn't smoke," he said, pointing to the other reading boy. 

Shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have said anything. Now they were going to look at him, try to talk to him. And now they knew he was in their heads. People [i]hated[/i] that.

"I, uh... that was, I mean I think, sort of, that... I wasn't supposed to, I didn't, I... should not... have said... that." He was stammering again. Greg pulled the book back over his face, hoping childishly that they'd forget he was there if they couldn't see him.

A memory flashed through his head. [i]Sarah, sitting on his bed. "Promise you'll try to make friends?"

"I promise." He wasn't looking at her, but then, he never was.[/i]

"I'm Greg," he said at length. "It's nice to, um, meet you all."