“I have an idea.”

  “Of course you do.” I gathered my books for my first couple classes.

  “Come on. I have great ideas.”

  “Your ideas are okay. It’s your follow-through that makes me nervous.”

  She nudged me as we headed to class. “You love it and you know it.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. But my smile dissolved when I spotted Luke coming toward us. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to Mara’s ex-boyfriend. I wanted to pretend not to see him and slip into class, but Naomi ruined my plan.

  “Hey, Luke.”

  He nodded at us. “How’s Mara? Any change?”

  I narrowed my eyes at Naomi before turning to face him.

  “No. My dad and I are going to the hospital on Wednesday to see her. Maybe there’ll be good news.”

  He studied my face, maybe waiting to see if I’d offer more information. But I was the one with questions. Questions Luke might know the answers to—like if he really had broken up with Mara, or if he knew why she might want to hurt herself.

  “Luke …” I clung harder to my books, trying to muster up my courage. But what if the rumors were wrong? What if he had nothing to do with Mara’s accident, and my questions simply made a concerned friend even more uncomfortable? I shook my head. “Never mind.”

  His brows came down. “Okay. Talk to you later.”

  Naomi pulled me along to class. “So, about this idea of mine.”

  “Do I really want to know?”

  “Two words: Ouija Board.”

  I suppressed a groan and prepared myself for what I was sure would be a crazy proposal. Only I didn’t get to hear her plan right away, because we were confronted halfway to my classroom.

  “Hey, freak.” Emily was flanked by Kelly and Nicole, all wearing outfits two sizes too small. Skin was pushed up and squeezed together and threatened to pop free at any moment. It looked awfully uncomfortable.

  “Can I help you?” I asked. Maybe they needed to borrow a crowbar to change for gym class.

  “We need to talk.” Emily plastered on a condescending smile and hung an arm over my shoulder, steering me away from her lemmings and Naomi.

  “What about?”

  “Are you lost, Stonebrook?” she asked.

  “Um, no?”

  “Because it seems to me like you’re forgetting your place. You are a sophomore.”

  Duh. “Your point?”

  “Sophomores don’t belong at parties thrown by upperclassmen. Meaning you and Thing Two had no business being at the graveyard this weekend.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t know you owned the graveyard.”

  She ignored my remark. “The point is, you need to keep your nose in your books and stay away from boys who are too old for you.”

  Oh. This was about Gavin. I supposed it could have been about Danny or another guy at the party, but since Gavin and I shared one, tiny, perfect moment, I had to assume she meant him. I had no idea she liked him, especially since Emily didn’t seem the kind of girl to step out of her comfort zone and go after a guy so different from her type. Not that it mattered; I didn’t give a crap about rules Emily thought she had the authority to dish out.

  “Yeah, thanks for your advice, Emily. But I’ve really got to get to class. Because, unlike you, I have no intention of repeating my sophomore year.”

  Her lemmings gasped as I shrugged her arm off me and turned to head down the hall. Naomi rushed up to my side, giggling.

  “Since when did you become so badass?” Naomi nudged my shoulder with hers. Little did she know how much I felt like throwing up. I’d never spoken up to Emily before. Usually Mara was around to soften any blows headed my way. But something had come over me, something about the way Emily was acting. Like she owned Gavin or something.

  Naomi and I split up outside my History class. She promised to fill me in on her grand scheme during lunch. I waved at her, a small pulse of insecurity developing when she left my side. Not that I expected Emily to hunt me down or anything, but my stomach churned at the possibility.

  I was all ready to tune out Mr. Boyle’s lecture on the Civil War—having read the entire chapter already—when a tall boy with short, wavy blond hair interrupted the class. I’d never seen him before, so he must have been new. Why was he wearing a black trench coat on such a warm day? Judging by the looks on the other students’ faces, I wasn’t the only one wondering. The new kid handed Mr. Boyle a slip of paper and the two talked quietly for a minute.

  “Class, this is Chase Black. He’s new to the district. Do we have an empty seat for him?”

  No one made an effort to help the new kid out. He found his way to the desk diagonally behind mine, examining me as he walked past. I couldn’t help but think that he’d be cute if he only smiled. I forced myself not to look back at him during class, but I felt him there. When the bell rang to end the lesson, I snuck a glance. He stared back, so I tried to lighten things up with a smile. His expression didn’t change. Feeling like an idiot, I swiftly gathered my things and left.

  At lunch, Naomi finally got her chance to tell me her plan. My eyes flitted to Gavin’s table across the lunchroom. He and Danny played table soccer with a crumpled ball of paper.

  “So I figure we need to get Gavin and Danny to meet us somewhere, so you can perform this so-called spell to get your sister out of the coma.”

  I blinked at her.

  “Okay, first of all, I don’t really know any spells. I just said that.”

  “Of course you don’t. That’s not the point. The point is getting them to meet up with us. And when the spell doesn’t work, you’ll be so upset you’ll need comforting. That’s what Gavin is for. And Danny’s pretty cute, so, you know, I’ll keep him busy.”

  “So you’re saying this is a fake out?”

  “Well, obviously. But it won’t matter, because once we all hook up, they won’t be thinking about spells anymore.” She wagged her brows at me as she took a bite of her sandwich.

  “What makes you so sure we’re going to hook up?”

  “Come on, Zadie. Picture it. Moonlight. Maybe some candles. Sitting together in the dark. It’s inevitable.”

  “Not if they’re not into us, it’s not.” I poked a fork at my mashed potatoes, frowning at the thought. Naomi was pretty, in an edgy way. Her brunette hair, which she used a razor blade to cut, came down in shredded layers to frame her naturally tan face. Beneath the layers of mismatched shirts, she had a nice figure. I rubbed my hands on my jeans, wondering if I was even curvy enough to have a boy want to hook up with me.

  “Have a little more confidence. I saw the way Gavin looked at you in the graveyard.”

  I swallowed hard. “How was he looking at me?”

  “Like he wouldn’t mind hittin’ that.”

  “Naomi!”

  She laughed as I crumpled my napkin and threw it at her.

  “Look what we’ve got here.” Brent stopped at our table, lunch tray in his hands. Tasha hovered as close as she could. “It’s coma girl’s sister and her cave-troll friend.”

  “Go away, Brent,” Naomi said.

  Tasha tilted her long nose into the air. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and use one of your magic spells to make yourselves invisible. Or is that what you were trying to do by coloring your hair black?”

  All my blood rushed to my face.

  “Hey, if you want more color, how about green?” Brent grabbed some peas from his tray and tossed them at me.

  I tried to duck away, but his aim was too good. Tasha laughed as Brent threw a few more peas my way.

  “Real mature,” I said.

  “Real fun is more like it.” Brent whistled as he threw another pea.

  “What the hell, ass-wad?” Naomi stood from her chair. “You still heartbroken because Zadie turned you down in the second grade?”

  Brent scowled. “You wish. It’s more like I came to my senses and figured out what a freak she is.” On the word freak, he lobbed another pea at me.

  With my head down to avoid getting hit in the face, a pair of sneakers came into view beside my chair. I looked up, my breath hitching when I saw Gavin. A whole new level of embarrassment kicked me in the stomach.

  “Not cool, Brent,” Gavin said. He stood between me and my attacker, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t as tall as Brent, and not nearly as bulky, but he stood his ground. Danny positioned himself beside Gavin with his hands in his pockets.

  I glanced at Naomi with wide eyes. She smiled and gave me a thumbs-up as she sat back down. I shifted in my seat so I could see Gavin better.

  “Come on, man,” Brent said. “Didn’t you know? I was thinking of trying out for basketball. I’ve got to practice my aim somehow.”

  “Just leave her alone,” Gavin said. “Or do we need to have a repeat of what happened on the class trip last year?”

  Brent’s smile faltered. “Nah, man. It’s cool.” He looked at Tasha and gestured with his head. “Let’s go.”

  I watched in amazement as they left.

  “You okay?” Gavin asked.

  I looked up at him and swallowed. Deep, blue eyes gazed back at me, hypnotic and kind. I got so lost in them I almost forgot to answer his question. “Yeah. Um, thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said, then turned to go.

  Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”

  He stopped and raised a brow at me.

  “The least I could do is, um …” I panicked and grabbed for something on my lunch tray, “offer you my apple.”

  He smirked and took the apple, tossed it in the air and caught it with his other hand.

  “Very Adam and Eve of you, Zadie,” Naomi said. “Why don’t you boys join us?”

  Gavin and Danny regarded each other.

  “Sure, why not,” Gavin said.

  I tried to steady my heartbeat as Gavin took the seat next to me. He was close enough to smell, and I took in his peppermint and clean laundry scent. It was a relief after enduring Brent’s odor, which was more like month-old salami.

  “What happened last year on the class trip?” I asked. It was a surprise that I could think coherently.

  Danny leaned forward on the table. “You know that expression, ‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall?’”

  “Yeah,” Naomi and I said at the same time.

  Danny jerked his thumb toward Gavin. Apparently no explanation was needed. I looked at Gavin for confirmation. He gave a half-smile and shrugged. Then he set the apple on the table and rubbed the space between his chin and bottom lip.

  “I was thinking about what you said at the party.” The low, velvety rumble of his voice sent shivers over my skin. “About bringing your sister back.”

  “Right,” I said, shifting in my chair. This was my chance to redeem myself. To make up some story about being drunk or high on flu medicine that night. “About that …”

  “We should totally try it,” Naomi butted in. “Wouldn’t it be cool?” She took a bite of her sandwich and grinned at Danny. He only raised an eyebrow and returned his attention to Gavin and me.

  “Might be cool.” Gavin said, propping his elbow on the table and studying my face. “Do you practice witchcraft or something?”

  “No.” Why couldn’t my voice be stronger? Was it because I was afraid Gavin would think I was some demon-worshiping, animal-sacrificing, occultist lunatic? Or was it because a small part of me thought I could actually get my sister out of her coma? I rubbed my hands on my jeans. “Nothing like that.”

  “But if you two aren’t chicken or anything,” Naomi said, “we should get together and try it out.”

  I bit my lip and waited for Gavin’s reaction. He and Danny eyed each other.

  “Yeah, why not?” Gavin’s smile comforted me. “It could be interesting.”

  “We have it all planned out.” Naomi set down her sandwich and leaned into the table as if she was sharing top-secret information. “But it has to be done during the full moon. And we need to gather some supplies. And you can’t have any doubts or be skeptical, ’cause it totally won’t work if there’s, like, negative energy involved.”

  I almost rolled my eyes at her. Gavin pulled out his phone, pressing and swiping the screen a few times.

  “Full moon is Saturday,” he said.

  My eyes widened, and I gaped at Naomi.

  She smiled. “Cool. We’ll let you know if we can have everything prepared by then. It can’t be done all half-assed, you know.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Gavin said. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was really intrigued by the thought of magic or if he was just humoring us. He stood. “Let us know.”

  “Okay,” I said meekly.

  He stopped suddenly. “Oh, Zadie?”

  “Yeah?”

  He reached for me. I held my breath. What was he doing? His fingers went to my hair. I froze, not knowing what to do. He pulled his hand away, holding something small and green.

  “You had a pea in your hair,” he said.

  My cheeks were on fire. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said.

  No problem there.

  “Bye, Danny.” Naomi added a breathy touch to his name, like she was trying to be sultry or something.

  Once the boys were gone, I turned on her. “A full moon? We have to get everything prepared? Are you crazy?”

  She picked up her sandwich and shrugged. “Yeah. But you knew that when you met me.”

  Chapter Three

  I crinkled my nose at the antiseptic smell that lived in the hospital waiting room. To kill time while we waited for the doctor, I opened my Algebra book across my knees and attacked the homework problems.

  Dad shifted beside me, flipping the pages of a magazine too quickly to be reading them. Gray streaked his dark blond hair—more than I remembered him having before Mara’s accident—and the bags under his eyes made me uneasy. I reached out and squeezed his hand, surprising myself. He looked down at our joined hands, startled. For a second I could see the worry on his face, but then he donned his “everything is going to be fine” mask. I wasn’t buying it.

  I averted my eyes. What if the doctor gave us bad news? What if … what if they couldn’t help, but I could? I’d been so careful not to want anything too badly ever since the frogs. But what if I let myself need Mara?

  No. I was crazy to even be thinking it.

  “Mr. Stonebrook.” A guy in light blue scrubs approached us. “Dr. Thompson will see you now.”

  “Thank you.” Dad ran a hand through his hair as he stood.

  I threw my stuff in my backpack. When I stood, I felt light-headed. Maybe it was the antiseptic fumes. Or maybe it was the dizzying lifestyle I had been forced to adjust to. Visits to intensive care units and psychiatric wards. Maybe Emily wasn’t wrong to call me a freak.

  Dr. Thompson’s office was filled with a billion pictures of his kids. I supposed he meant the office to feel homey, but I felt like they were mocking us. Like they were showing off how normal and healthy and alive they were.

  Dad seemed stiff as he shook the doctor’s hand. “How is she, Doc?” We sank into the chairs opposite Dr. Thompson.

  For some reason, I couldn’t look him in the eyes as he told us about Mara’s progress. I counted the pens in his penholder as he talked about how her injuries had almost fully healed. While he told us Mara’s arm was still in a cast, I read the titles of the medical books on the shelf behind him. I studied the diploma on the wall when he noted that they didn’t expect any problems with Mara’s mobility, since her surgery had gone well.

  “Okay.” Dad sounded guarded, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Since we replaced the EEG, everything appears to be normal. There’s still some swelling around the brain that we’d like to monitor. We’re hoping it recedes enough that we can bring her out of the coma soon.”

  “How soon is soon?” Dad asked.

  “We’re monitoring her very closely to assure there are minimal risks. It’s hard to say for sure, but if the swelling continues to recede at the rate it is now, probably by the end of this week, early next week.”

  Silence flooded the room. Dad scratched at the scruff on his chin and nodded. “That … that sounds good.”

  “She’ll have to remain here for a while after she wakes up, at least until we’re sure she’s stable. And, of course, she’ll need physical therapy to regain her muscle control. But we’re very optimistic about her recovery, Mr. Stonebrook.”

  “Can we see her?” I asked. My eyes followed the edge of the doctor’s desk.

  “Of course.” Dr. Thompson got to his feet and gestured toward the door.

  Dad and I exchanged a long look before we stood. It was a look full of hope and fear, and it sent a shockwave of emotion through me. Was Mara going to make it? Dr. Thompson’s words were encouraging, but something caught in the pit of my stomach: dread. I followed Dad out of the room, telling myself to focus on positive thoughts as we walked toward the ICU. It didn’t work.

  The anxiety that crept through me the closer we got to Mara’s room was as strong as it had been the day after the accident. Nurses shuffled briskly through the halls, and I clenched my teeth against the urge to flatten myself against the wall. Or better yet, to turn and run.

  When we reached Mara’s room, Dad rushed over to her side while I hung back, lurking in the doorway and working up the courage to join them. When I finally did, I was surprised by how peaceful Mara looked. Maybe she really was getting better.

  “Hey, baby.” Dad took her hand. “You look good.”

  I held my breath and waited for Mara to respond. I don’t know why I always did that, but when she didn’t answer, the disappointment was all too familiar. Since our first visit, the doctors had been telling us it was common for family members to talk to coma patients. Helpful, even. Something to do with Mara hearing us, which supposedly aided in her recovery and helped us cope. But no matter how often we spoke to her, there was never so much as a flutter from her eyelids or a twitch of her hand.

  “The doctors say you’re getting better,” Dad said to her. “Looking at your pretty face, I know they must be right. I have a feeling you’ll be coming home with us soon.”