Nevermore

“Reynolds!” she whispered, evoking his name.

She heard a creak from behind and drew herself straight.

The bathroom door cracked open, and Gwen stuck her head in.

“Isobel, we’re going to have to talk about what you’re eating for breakfast, because whatever it is, it’s doing nothing for your social life, I can tell you that. Now I’m only going to ask you this once. Are you all right?”

Isobel stared at her friend’s reflection in the mirror.

“I got your book bag,” Gwen said. “Despite your standing ovation in there, I didn’t think you were gonna come back to get it. What kinda books you got in this thing, any-way? Feels like you’re schlepping around a hard copy of the Internet.”

“Books?” Isobel swung around. All at once, the sight of Gwen dragging her backpack through the door brought on a new thought, something that had not occurred to her until that moment. In the hall, the bell sounded, ending lunch in a shrill, nerve-frying clatter. “Gwen! You drive to school.”

Gwen stopped her struggle with Isobel’s bag. “And monkeys throw their poop. Isobel, you’re really startin’ to scare me.”

“Gwen. I need to borrow your car.”

“Are you nuts? What for? It’s the middle of the day!”

“Please,” she said, holding out her hand for the keys.

They snuck into the boiler room, which Mr. Talbot, the janitor, had left open while he cleaned up in the cafeteria. With Gwen in tow, Isobel hurried past the noise and heat of the boiler and through the back door. She shut it behind them and was certain by the click that it made that it had locked automatically. They’d have to find another way back in.

“This is insane,” Gwen whispered. “You’re gonna get us both suspended.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

“Oh, right, and let you drive off in my dad’s Cadillac with nothing but a permit?”

They stooped, sneaking around the side of the building and through the rows of faculty cars toward the student lot. This would be the toughest part, getting in the car and out of the lot without being noticed. The rear of Trenton was covered in windows. Still, her mind was set. If she got caught, then she got caught. She was fairly sure she could talk Gwen out of any major trouble if she had to, since Gwen was one of the school’s four National Merit finalists. Right now, though, she had to find Varen, and after her encounter with Pinfeathers, she couldn’t exactly say that Gwen’s company wasn’t welcome.

There was only one other place she could look for Varen, and right now, she didn’t care that it was against the rules to leave school grounds. She didn’t even care that she was supposed to be ready to perform with the squad in front of the whole school in little more than an hour.

At least she had a plan. She was pretty sure that if they could get away from the school undetected, and if they waited until the end of fifth period to return, when everyone in the school would be banging on lockers and heading to the gym for the pep rally, they might just be able to pull this off.

Ducking low, they wove their way between the rows of vehicles.

“Could have worn something a little less conspicuous,” Gwen grumbled behind her.

“It’s a pep rally day. I have to wear this!”

They continued on, making their way across the pavement sideways and crouching, like a pair of crabs moving through a desert ghost town.

“That one,” Gwen said, and pointed at an old 1990s navy blue Cadillac hunkered in a middle slot. Compared to the two sporty, brightly colored fiberglass cars flanking it, the thing looked more like a tank. Talk about a getaway car.

“Jeez,” said Isobel. “What, is your dad in the Mafia?”

“Actually, he’s an orthodontist.”

They split apart, crossing the last clear drive-through space, Gwen sidling up next to the driver’s door and Isobel to the passenger’s. They stayed low as Gwen stuck the key in and unlocked the car. She slid inside and, hunching down in the driver’s seat, reached across to raise the lock on the passenger side. Isobel grasped the handle and pressed the silver button until she felt the latch give. She shuffled back to open the door but stopped, catching sight of something in the rearview mirror. There was someone else in the parking lot. She turned her head to see.

He sat no more than ten feet away, perched on the hood of a black BMW, another blood-haired boy, dressed in black like Pinfeathers, only it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been, because unlike Pinfeathers, this boy wasn’t missing his cheek. He was missing an entire eye. Even from a distance, Isobel could see the gaping space where one eye and half his nose should have been.