“Okay,” I replied, feeling another chill.
Did I have a choice? She was kinda freaking me out. But no way I could jump up and leave.
We held hands. We leaned toward the circle of black candles.
Jamie held the book in her lap. She whispered some words in a language I didn’t recognize. Then she began to chant in a loud whisper: “Cindy, where are you? Cindy, where are you . . . ?”
I took a deep breath and joined in. “Cindy, where are you? Cindy, where are you? Cindy, where are you?”
Holding hands, the firelight washing over us, we chanted the phrase over and over. “Cindy, where are you . . . ?”
And then my heart skipped a beat when I heard a soft reply from close by: “I’m here . . . I’m HERE!”
11
I raised my eyes to Jamie. She stared back at me, eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. She had heard it too.
I raised myself to my knees. In my excitement, I almost knocked over one of the candles.
“Cindy? Is that you?” Jamie whispered.
And again we heard the soft whisper of a voice, so close . . . so close to us: “I’m here . . . I’m here.”
I froze, blinking into the flickering flames.
Jamie jumped to her feet. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute,” she murmured.
She tiptoed to her closet, pulled open the door—and Danny came tumbling out. “You RAT!” Jamie screamed.
It took me a few seconds to realize that Danny had been the whisperer.
Jamie grabbed the little guy, and he started to giggle. Jamie wrestled him to the floor and tickled his stomach with both hands. He wriggled on his back, giggling and slapping at Jamie.
“You rat! You rat!” Jamie cried, laughing with her brother.
“You scared me to death!” I confessed.
Danny rolled out of his sister’s grasp. He jumped to his feet and sprinted to the doorway.
“How long were you in there?” Jamie demanded.
He didn’t answer. He giggled some more, totally pleased with his little joke. Then he disappeared into the hall. We heard him clumping down the stairs, shouting, “Hey, Mom! Mom! I played a joke on Jamie and Dana!”
Jamie dropped back onto her knees on the carpet and began to blow out the candles. “Guess we won’t reach Cindy tonight,” she said.
“Think Danny knew what we were doing?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Who knows what Danny knows? He’s such a funny kid.”
“Yeah, funny,” I said. My heart was still pounding.
• • •
My first day at Shadyside High was as hard as I’d expected. I mean, how impossible is it to start a new school senior year?
Jamie gave me a short tour of the building before classes started. But of course I forgot everything she told me as soon as she hurried off to homeroom.
I kept staring at faces, looking for kids I knew. I actually remembered some kids from elementary school, but they didn’t seem to remember me.
I saw Nate in the hall between third and fourth period. I hurried over to him, but he was rushing somewhere with his friend Shark. We barely said hi.
After school, I found Ada and Whitney in front of their lockers. They were both talking at once. But when they saw me coming, they stopped and both put these fake smiles on their faces.
Whitney wore a short, pleated skirt and layers of T-shirts. Ada had a maroon and gray Shadyside High sweatshirt pulled down over very tight, boot-cut jeans.
“How’s it going, Dana?” Whitney asked, eyeing me up and down.
I sighed. “I was late to two classes. I couldn’t find the rooms. My school was all on one level, not three floors.”
Ada snickered. “Jamie should’ve drawn you a map.”
“I guess,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll figure it all out in a few days.”
Ada shifted her backpack on her shoulders. She was staring at me coldly.
I wanted to apologize for the other night at Jamie’s party. I wanted to find out if she still thought I had pushed her down the stairs. I didn’t want one of Jamie’s friends as an enemy.
But how could I bring it up?
Besides, I was late for an after-school tryout.
“Where is the music room?” I asked them. “I’m totally turned around. I’m supposed to be there now. I’m trying out for chorus.”
Ada’s mouth dropped open. “Whitney and I are in the chorus,” she said. “It’s all filled up.”
She said it so coldly, as if I had no business even asking her about it.
“My chorus teacher from back home sent a note to Ms. Watson,” I explained. “She told her about the singing awards I’ve won.”
“So Ms. Watson said you could try out?” Ada asked.
I nodded. “Yes. She’s waiting for me in the music room.” I held up both hands with my fingers crossed. “I really need to be in chorus,” I told them. “Because I’m trying out for the Collingsworth Music Scholarship.”