Twenty-One

“Hey, Skye!”

I turned, and a bunch of junior girls waved at me. They were at least the fifth group of people to call out to me as we came into school. I raised a hand back, and they giggled and scurried down the hall. I watched them round the corner in a tight cluster.

I turned to Drew. “What the hell is going on?”

“Everyone knows you’re the psychic the media is talking about.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Welcome to being famous.”

“Great,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Maybe you can parlay this newfound fame into getting a killer date for prom.” Drew took a careful sip of the coffee we’d stopped to get on the way. Not that she was drinking real coffee: it was some kind of dessert in a cup. If you don’t like coffee, fine, but don’t pretend to like it by making it into a sugar smoothie.

“The last thing I need to worry about is a date,” I said.

“You could go out with that guy from your apartment building. He was hot.”

I stopped. “What guy?”

Drew looked over her shoulder at me. “The one with the dark hair.”

The spit in my mouth turned sour. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I’d lived there since second grade. I would know if there was a hot guy living within a ten-mile radius of the building.

“He was in the parking lot when I picked you up.” She laughed at my expression. “Don’t freak out. He was just some guy. I’m not setting you up or anything.”

“Have you ever seen him before?” I grabbed her arm to make her slow down.

Drew arched her eyebrow. “No.”

“Was he watching me?” It had to be Ryan. He was following me, hoping I’d lead him to Paige. Was there any way he could tap my phone calls?

Drew motioned for me to keep walking. I was going to be late. “I’m sorry I said anything. I was joking. He was just some boy. Probably waiting for a friend. It was no big deal. I only noticed him because he seemed like your type.”

“I think he might be following me,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “Do you think he’s a journalist?”

My mind raced back to yesterday. “I think someone might have been in my room too.” People streamed past us in the hall. The first bell was going to ring any minute.

Drew held her hands out motioning for me to slow down so she could make sense of what I was saying. “Okay, are you listening to yourself?”

“I know it sounds weird, but I’m serious.”

“Was anything stolen?”

I shifted from foot to foot. “No. But I’m sure stuff had been moved around.”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “Skye.” Her voice was slow and measured, like she was trying to talk me off a ledge. “Why would someone slip into your room to move stuff around?”

“He’s not some guy. He’s Paige Bonnet’s ex-boyfriend,” I said, louder than I meant to. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention.

Drew’s mouth made a tiny O. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bathroom. She checked under the stalls to make sure we were alone. “You need to talk to the cops if you think he’s following you. I’ve heard he’s trouble.”

I dragged my foot on the tile floor, making it squeak. “I don’t know.”

Drew leaned against the sink. “I know for a fact he’s got a criminal record.” Her eyes grew wider. “For breaking and entering.”

I let that fact sink in. It shouldn’t have made a difference. It’s not like it would have taken a skilled professional to get into our apartment, but it still made me uneasy.

“Do you want me to drive you to the police station?” Drew offered. “Or we could go to Lester’s office—he could call them. They can take fingerprints or something.”

I tried to slow my thoughts down. If the cops talked to Ryan, he might tell them about the movies. They would want to know what I was doing wandering out behind the theater in the dark. And if they found the cabin—

“Skye?” I jolted. I’d half forgotten that Drew was there. “We should go to the police. If Ryan did, you know, something to Paige and he thinks you might see him in a vision or whatever, he could be after you.”

“He didn’t do anything to Paige,” I said. “He’s probably harmless.”

“You can’t be sure,” she said.

The sink behind us had a steady drip. The plinking sound was drilling through my brain. “I’m sure. Ryan wasn’t involved.”

“What are you talking about? A second ago you thought he might have been in your room. I heard they broke up because he was cheating on her.”

“That gives her a reason to want to hurt him, not the other way around.” The bell rang. “You’re right. I’m just letting my anxiety get the best of me. There’s no reason he’d break into my apartment. I’m not going to involve the cops because I’m a nervous wreck. You know how I get—imagining all sorts of things.” I forced myself to laugh like it was no big deal. I pulled my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks for picking me up.”

She stopped me before I could leave. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

I gave her a thumbs-up. It seemed better than saying I did and adding another lie to the pile.