Just then, Shep comes weaving through the tables with her tray, looking harried. We have US history together right after lunch, and this is the first I’ve seen her all day.
“Aidan,” she says, sliding her tray over next to Sky’s. “Will wonders never cease?”
“Hey, just because you made friends first doesn’t mean I can’t,” Aidan protests. He has the bewildered look on his face of someone who’s used to their friendship being currency, not a bounced check.
The cafeteria is at its peak crowd level, and the noise level rises like a tide in the bay outside. Principal Frankel walks by with a banana in her hand.
She pauses beside us. “Afternoon, Sky, Shep. Billy, good to see you making new friends.”
I stare up at her, but I don’t think she realizes what she just said.
Aidan looks confused. “Who’s Bi—”
Shep’s jaw is hanging open, her eyes glued to Principal Frankel.
“Sam’s awesome!” Sky says brightly, raising his half pint of chocolate milk into the air. “New student extraordinaire. Even Aidan likes them, and he’s usually more interested in balls.”
That snaps Shep out of her stare when she realizes what Sky just said, and Sky looks like he wants to crawl inside his milk carton and die of embarrassment. Weirdly, Aidan doesn’t. Respect.
Principal Frankel, though, goes a paler shade of white and gives a tight nod, walking away with strides so straight she looks like she turned to wood. I can’t help watching her retreat ing figure and wondering what just happened. I do not for one minute think her reaction had anything to do with Sky saying “balls.”
I don’t really look like Billy. He was shorter and way blonder than my dingy, dishwater natural hair. Scrawny where I’m tall and toned. Different faces. Maybe I just brought up the memories of him. But the fact that both I and Principal Frankel have looked at my face and seen Billy is chilling. The cafeteria feels colder.
“Who the eff is Billy?” Aidan says, jolting me back to the table.
“Nobody—” Shep starts.
“Billy Clement,” I say at the same time.
“That kid who died in Sam’s house a bazillion years ago?” Sky says dubiously.
Aidan shakes his head in a I don’t know what the hell you’re saying way. “What kid?”
“You moved here, what, three years ago?” Shep asks, looking resigned at having to explain rather than discuss what Principal Frankel just did. “This kid who died in ’eighty-nine. Supposedly an accident, but we think it was murder, never solved.”
“No way,” Aidan says. He looks at me. “In your house? Oh, shit, you live in that house? Someone said it was haunted or something one day when we were walking into town, but I just thought they were messing with me.”
“Yeah.” I don’t know what else to say. Aidan’s looking at me as if having someone die in my house increases my coolness quotient, and it grosses me out a bit. Me, the macabre morbidity magnet.
The bell rings out just as a crack of thunder makes every one jump.
Saved.
Copyright © 2022 by MacGregor, Maya. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
