CHAPTER ONE

Late. So late. I slam the car door behind me and race across the parking lot. My hair is tangled in the strap of my messenger bag, my shoes are untied, and I have no idea how I'm going to get to my locker without getting caught. I have to try because I need those chemistry notes.

Technically I needed them last night when I'd actually had time to study for my midterm, but I didn't think it was a big deal. I know the material, and I figured I could do a little last-minute cramming during first period homeroom. It was a decent plan until my phone battery died, taking my morning alarm down with it. Now I'll be lucky to catch the last ten minutes of first period.

I hop the curb and slow as I slide into the shadow of the ancient brick school. It's probably not classy to barrel through the door like an escaped convict. Of course, it probably wasn't classy flying into the parking lot doing Mach 2 either.

I check my barely charged phone for the time as I climb the first step. My foot slips on something halfway up the stairs. It's like hitting a patch of ice. I lunge for the handrail and jerk myself upright, glaring down at the thing that tripped me-a dropped notebook.

Nothing special. It's a plain, spiral-bound pad, the kind you can get on sale at the drugstore for less than a buck. Pretty much worthless, except I know it's probably chock-full of notes. Notes someone will likely need during midterm week.

Oh, fine.

I snatch the notebook off the steps and shove it into my bag. Lost and Found is going to have to wait though. It's in the student store, which is on the opposite side of the school.

I climb the rest of the stairs and pull the heavy door open. It shuts behind me with a low whump, and warm, oil-soap tinged air closes around me. The office waits to my left, and the main hallway, long and dim, leads to classrooms and stairwells. My fingers and cheeks tingle, recovering from the bite of the wind.

When this hallway is empty, the stillness feels like something that lives and breathes. And waits. I shake it off and rush into the front office. Showing up late to class is bad enough. Showing up without a pass will land me in detention.

Mrs. Bluth and Mrs. Pruitt sit behind the high wooden counter, two round-faced mom types who, as far as I can tell, never leave this room. When we were freshmen, Manny and I used to take bets on whether or not they took bathroom breaks.

"Good morning, Piper," Mrs. Bluth says, her smile bright. She pushes the sign-in clipboard toward me. "Yearbook assignment this morning?"

Why didn't I think of that? I spend countless hours here taking pictures of one thing or another for the yearbook. I shake my head though, and wait while she writes my pass.

"Now, straight to class. If you need to visit your locker, you can do so between periods."

"Sure." I force a smile though my shoulders sag. Honestly, I should have given up on the ride here. It's not like I'd have enough time to really look anything over. There are nineteen minutes left in the period, and my locker is twelve thousand miles away from everything else. Seriously, I should get PE credit for the hike. Even if I did sneak up there unnoticed, I'd only have fifteen minutes to study while pretending I'm paying attention.

Not worth it.

I arrive at homeroom where Mr. Stiers is passing out packets to the class. The second I step inside, he swivels on his feet, dark eyes fixing on me.

"Good morning, Piper."

He takes my pass with a smile. My lips twitch in response. Sad effort, but it's all I've got.

"Hey," I say. "Sorry I'm late."

"No...