Inside the Shadow City Read Online Free PDF

still. They shift around in their seats, tap their feet, or play with their jewelry. They also touch their faces more often—rubbing their noses, running their fingers through their hair, or brushing their hands against their mouths. The control freaks, on the other hand, go out of their way to avoid looking nervous. They may move very little and avoid gesturing altogether. Some will even go so far as to cross their arms or sit on their hands.

CHAPTER THREE
Hide-and-Co-Seek
    It had been more than a week since I had last thought of Kiki Strike, but the instant I saw her at the Marble Cemetery, I was spellbound once more. I suppose some people might have mistaken the encounter for coincidence. But I had long suspected that there are few true coincidences in this world. Something—or someone— was bringing the two of us together.
    For the first time in my life, I grew impatient for winter break to end. Hoping one of my classmates could give me the lowdown on the mysterious Kiki Strike, I even arrived early the first day back, only to find that two weeks of presents and parties had erased her from everyone’s memories. I was left with no other option but to wait for class to begin, keeping my eye trained on Kiki’s desk at the back of the room.
    Seconds before the bell rang, I saw her. She was even smaller than I remembered—more like a mythical creature than a human being. She was dressed entirely inblack, and though I’ve heard her hair described as blond, the truth was that it lacked any color at all. Instead it was a shocking, almost translucent white, and her skin was a bloodless hue common to corpses and cave-dwelling creatures. In fact, the only color about her person was in the form of two little rubies—one in either ear. Though my description may sound ghoulish, I assure you that the total package was surprisingly attractive.
    I watched, thinking myself unnoticed, as she removed a notebook (black) and a pen (black) from a leather satchel (also black). She spent a moment arranging these tools on her desk, and just as she finished, her eyes snapped up and caught mine. I could feel my face flushing a deep red, for she seemed to be examining every last detail of my appearance. Her pale blue eyes—so light, they were milky—gave nothing away. Her mouth neither smiled nor twitched nor grimaced nor frowned. Finally, she raised one eyebrow, and held it arched high for a moment before she allowed it to fall. I spun around to face the front of the class, my cheeks burning with humiliation. I swore to myself that I would not be caught again.
    â€¢ • •
    For two months, I did my best to stay out of sight as I stalked Kiki Strike among the library stacks and shadowed her through the forest of gym lockers in the school’s basement. But though I tried to be discreet, surveillance was a craft that didn’t come naturally to me. I almost blew my cover one afternoon in the library when I tripped over a kindergartner who was cramming a peanutbutter sandwich between two copies of
Oliver Twist.
And I was certain I’d heard someone laugh the day I was mysteriously drenched while hiding in a shower stall in the gym’s locker room.
    Neglecting my homework, I spent my evenings inventing more foolproof methods of spying on Kiki Strike. I even glued a mirror inside one of my textbooks so I could watch her at the back of the classroom. But everything I saw just made her seem stranger. Kiki said nothing during class, and our teachers never called on her. In fact, she was so successful at blending in that everyone seemed to look right through her.
    After several weeks of watching her, I began to wonder if Kiki might be watching someone else. She showed no interest in making friends, but on several occasions, I saw her studying a group of ninth graders like a scientist keeping track of a pack of gorillas. Following her lead, I made my own list of observations.
    1. Kiki Strike always