After years of paying Catholic school tuition, my parents decided to save money and send the three oldest to PUBLIC SCHOOL. We were baby Christian martyrs among the pagan Roman hordes. My younger sister had it the worst. Situated in a deteriorating, thug-infested neighborhood, her junior high was surrounded by a tall fence and rolls of twisted chicken wire. Need I say more? She still hasn’t forgiven my parents for her painful adolescence. Meanwhile, my older brother and I went to the same high school, so we had each other in an emergency. After years of torture at the hands of menopausal nuns and sadistic monks, my brother was finally a freed man, attending a new school where he was known as “the cute, new guy.” You know how that goes. His foray into public school was nothing like my sister’s. Me. I was lost. In my old life, I’d known who my friends were and where I fit in. Now in a school the size of a small Texas town, I was faceless and friendless, a nobody