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dialed it, and stayed on hold for about fifteen minutes. She asked her question and was put on hold again.
    A different man came on and told her that her house hadn’t been scheduled for a meter reading that day.
    “Thanks,” Rae murmured. She hung up the phone, checked the clock, then snatched the phone back up again and punched in Anthony’s number. He should have gotten home from school at least an hour ago.
    The phone rang. And rang, and rang. “Come on,Anthony,” she whispered. He was the only one she wanted to talk to right now. No, not wanted to talk to, needed. The phone kept ringing. The answering machine didn’t pick up.
    Reluctantly Rae put down the phone.
    I’ll try him again later, she thought. And if I don’t get him, I’ll track him down at school tomorrow.
    Weird thought. It was hard to believe that Anthony was actually a Sanderson Prep guy. Weird, but good. She’d actually have a real friend at school.
    Suddenly she got this flash of how it felt to have his arms around her that night when he’d told her what it was like to have a father who was a murderer. That night when she’d told him what she never told anyone-that her mother was a murderer, too.
    When Anthony had held her that night, she’d felt like she’d been surrounded in a bubble of warmth, a place where nothing bad could ever happen. She’d never wanted him to let go.
    So was she lying to herself? Was friendship all she wanted from Anthony Fascinelli?

Chapter 3
    ae headed oward the cafeter Tuesday afternoon. Finally she’d get a chance to talk to Anthony. All this stuff was building up inside her. Be honest, she told herself. All this fear. About the non-meter reader. And about what was happening in her body. She’d never told Anthony the numbness she’d experienced that day in the pool wasn’t a onetime thing. But as soon as she saw him, she would. He’d probably be pissed-Anthony hated it when she kept secrets, serious, possibly life-threatening secrets, from him. Rae didn’t care. He could yell as much as he wanted. It would still feel so good to tell him everything.
    As Rae headed past the girls’ bathroom, her feet slowed down. She decided to duck inside, see if sheneeded any repairs. Last year this was her routine, hers and Lea’s. They almost always hit the bathroom before the caf for hair and makeup touch-ups. Rae’d kind of gotten out of the habit, not that she walked around looking like a slob or anything.
    She found a tiny section of free mirror space-no one nearby who’d expect her to talk to them-then pulled out a lipstick and gave herself a fresh coat, enjoying the smooth, moist glide across her lips. Next she added a little mascara and plucked a hair that had somehow sprouted between her eyebrows since that morning. Finally she sprayed a little no-frizz curl tamer on her hair and fluffed it. Did a quick overall inspection, checked her teeth for lipstick, then headed out, satisfied. More than satisfied.
    Rae hurried to the caf with more eagerness than she’d felt in a long time. She pushed open the double doors-the layer of wax on her fingers keeping her from picking up any thoughts-and stepped inside. Her eyes immediately did an Anthony scan.
    “Oh my God.” The words popped out of her mouth without any conscious decision to say them. Anthony-Anthony freakin’ Fascinelli-was sitting at her table. Well, her old table. He was saying something to Marcus that had Marcus cracking up. And Jackie-Jackie the Snowball -was running her fingers through Anthony’s hair.
    Rae backed toward the door, unable to take her eyes off Anthony. When she knocked into one of the long door handles, she turned around and stumbled into the hall, feeling dazed. Definitely not the time to spill my guts to
    Anthony, she thought. He wouldn’t thank her for dragging him away from the group that pretty much everyone in school wanted to be in.
    Or from Jackie’s hands, she thought, wincing. She blinked, trying to clear her mind. Had