LITMIR.BIZ

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finished the word, then carefully unfolded the paper.

      I looked up. The desks in Mr. Randolph’s room are in a big horseshoe, and Heidi was all the way on the other side of it, but her eyes met mine and she raised her exquisitely shaped eyebrows. I nodded almost imperceptibly, grateful to have something to think about besides Amanda knowing even more about my screwed-up family than she had last week. This Saturday’s party was going to be amazing, and the I-Girls—Kelli, Heidi, Traci, and yours truly (okay, I briefly spelled my name with an “i,” but not anymore!)—the reigning queens of the ninth grade, were going in green. That was cool—I have a dark green fitted T-shirt, and once when we all went to the movies I wore it. Lee was there, and he’d said my eyes looked really pretty when I wore green. Thinking about Lee, I felt my face go pink, which is what happens to redheaded Irish girls when we’re embarrassed. Or scared. Or hot. Or just the slightest bit nervous or uncomfortable. Basically between twenty and a thousand times a day. “Callista Leary?”

      My head shot up at the sound of my full name. Had Mr. Randolph noticed the note going around the horseshoe? Some teachers, if they catch you passing a note, make you read it out loud to the class. Not that this was such an incriminating missive, but still. Then I realized it was a woman’s voice that had said my name and Mr. Randolph wasn’t even looking at me; he (along with everyone else in the room) had turned toward the door where one of the secretaries from the main office was standing.

      “Um … that’s me.” Everyone was staring, and I could feel the heat spreading across my face and down my chest in a hard-core blush.

      “You’re wanted in the vice principal’s office.”

      For a split second it was as though I’d just been addressed in a language other than English; I literally couldn’t make sense of the words she’d spoken. “I’m … ?” I repeated stupidly.

      “You can take your things,” she added, bobbing her head with its tight bun. “You won’t be coming back this period.”

      As if my befuddlement were written on my face, Mr. Randolph said, “You’ll get the notes from someone tomorrow, Callie. Go with Mrs. Leong for now.”

      Suddenly I wasn’t confused anymore, I was frightened.

      Could this have something to do with my mom? I stood up fast, nearly toppling my desk. Then my backpack got twisted up in the chair and my shaking fingers couldn’t work the zipper. I could practically hear everyone in the room pitying me.

      As I passed her, Heidi whispered, “What happened?” Unlike Traci and Kelli, Heidi knew about my mom. She knew, but we never talked about it. Just like we never talked about anything else that happened that night. Ever.

      I shook my head as a way of saying I had no idea, and as she reached out her hand to touch mine for a second, her lovely face wrinkled with concern, I had this really ugly thought. Is she doing that because she’s worried about me or because she wants it to look like she’s worried about me?

      I seemed to be having those thoughts about Heidi a lot lately, but before I could turn back to check the expression on her face, I was outside the classroom with the door swinging shut behind me.

      It was weird walking down the silent hallway. Normally I’m only in the corridors between classes, when there are a million other Endeavor students elbowing past one another to get to class. Now it was so silent I could actually feel the echo from the click of Mrs. Leong’s chunky heels. I noticed a corner of an old homecoming banner had come loose, the heavy blue felt swaying in a breeze I couldn’t feel. “The Endeavor Enders: We don’t GOT spirit, we ARE spirits!” How had anyone ever thought having a ghost for a mascot was a good idea? And why did I have to be reminded of ghosts now, when for all I knew I was about to find out that my mom was …

      Mrs. Leong pushed open the door to the main office. Here there was no hint of the silence of the hallways—a dozen phones seemed to be ringing at once, a Xerox machine was going about a hundred miles a minute and at least two other secretaries were busily typing away at their computers. It was like I was in the headquarters of a major corporation instead of the office of the Endeavor Unified Middle and High School.

      Remembering Amanda’s suggestion for a new school motto ("We don’t stand a ghost of a chance!") momentarily held my anxiety at bay, but my stomach sank as Mrs. Leong gestured toward Vice Principal Thornhill’s office. “Go in. He’s expecting you.” I had a second to consider the irony that it was Mr. Thornhill who was about to witness my getting the worst possible news about my mom. For no good reason, my dad totally hates him, yet it was in this man’s office that he’d have to tell me the awful truth.

      Heart pounding, I pushed open the door, sure the next sight I’d see would be my father’s tear-stained face.

       CHAPTER 2

      But my dad wasn’t even there.

      Three chairs faced Mr. Thornhill’s desk. The middle one was empty, while the other two were filled by Nia Rivera, the biggest freak in the ninth grade, and Hal Bennett, who I guess is what you could call a recovering loser. All through middle school, Hal was this bean pole who wore high-waisted, too-short pants and looked like his mom cut his hair by putting a bowl over his head and trimming around the base of it. But he must have spent his summer watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy or something because when we got back to school in September, he had become Über-cool. Now he wore vintage T-shirts and worn jeans that he totally filled out, if you know what I’m saying, and his dark blond hair had this whole shaggy-but-styled thing going on. Also, he was, like, an artistic genius. Maybe he always had been, but this year he’d done a devastating caricature of Thornhill in the school paper that created a buzz for a few days, and then he was chosen to go to New York to represent the entire state of Maryland in a contest that some big museum sponsored back in November. He’d even shown up on the I-Girls' radar—Kelli and Traci were talking at lunch last week about what a hottie Hal Bennett was becoming, and after years of being afraid that they would somehow find out that he and I had hung out together before I became an I-Girl, I suddenly wanted to tell them. I didn’t say anything, though. I noticed that Heidi did not weigh in at all, and what if I told them about our once having been friends and then he somehow got re-dorkified?

      “Have a seat, Callie,” said Mr. Thornhill. Totally confused, I slipped into the empty chair. Clearly my being summoned here had nothing to do with my mother.

      Mr. Thornhill had his hands folded under his chin, his index fingers touching the ends of his short, bristly moustache, forming a V around his mouth. The fluorescent light shone on his bald head, so shiny you’d have thought he spent his mornings polishing it.

      No one was talking, and no one other than Mr. Thornhill acknowledged my entry. Since I’d never been in the vice principal’s office before, I checked out the room. There wasn’t a whole lot there, no diplomas or pictures of his family. One wall was covered in file cabinets with alphabetized labels, and in the center of the desk was a small pile of manila folders but nothing personal—no Endeavor mug to hold his pencils or a #1 DAD paperweight. It was almost weird how blank the room was considering Mr. Thornhill had been the vice principal here since I started middle school.

      The silence grew. I turned my head slightly to look first at Hal and then at Nia, but he was staring at the carpet, and her thick hair hung along the side of her face so I couldn’t see her expression. As my eyes swept the room, Mr. Thornhill and I made eye contact for a second and his stare was so intense I had to look away. It was like he was … angry at me or something. For the first time, it occurred to me that I could be in trouble. I mean, he was the vice principal. I tried to think of a rule I might have broken recently, but it wasn’t like I’d been smoking in the bathroom or not doing my homework or anything.

      “Well,” he announced finally, “I think you all know why you’re here.”

      Okay, this was getting really weird. For the first time since Mrs. Leong had called my name, I actually started to

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