"So – she just asked you to hang out and ..." Rhys said.

"Be friends. Clearly, somewhere on me is the sign, 'Pity me, for I am friendless'. I told her I'd consider it just so she'd drop it. If I didn't know better, I'd swear my aunt had something to do with this."

"Amazing. I wish I could accidentally bump into someone and be offered something."

"Watch what you wish for," I said. "Speaking of which, here comes ..."

"Your new best friend," he mumbled as he leaned against his locker.

Katrina came over. Looking past me, she said cheerily, "Hi, Rhys."

I glanced at him over my shoulder. He gave her a small wave. "Hi, Katrina."

She looked back at me and said, "Ashe – so, some of us are going shopping this afternoon and I thought I'd ask you to come with. I can introduce you to some of the other girls and maybe you can join our club."

"Club?"

"Yeah. It's mainly for us, but we're friendly and not cliquish so anyone can join. It's informal, nothing that has to do with school. We sometimes volunteer around town, but we mainly just hang out and talk 'girl stuff'." She smiled broadly. "And, on Saturday nights we usually get together and do each other's hair, try out different styles, and paint each other's nails. It's a lot of fun." She looked at my hair. "Your hair's so pretty. Do you curl it?"

"Um, thanks. It's natural – but I can't this afternoon. I have plans."

"Then, later?"

"I'll have to let you know." Ready for a change of subject, I said, "I was wondering ... is there a guy at this school with a French accent?"

"'French Accent' guy again?" Rhys mumbled.

Katrina instantly perked up. "Not that I know of, but if you find him, point him out. I love foreign accents. Okay, let me know. Bye."

I watched her walk away and mumbled, "She reminds me of someone – oh yeah, a younger carbon copy of Aunt Karen. She's bubbly." I turned to look at Rhys. "Should I be worried?"

Rhys smiled. "She's always like that." He pushed away from the locker. "Let's go to the cafeteria."

"Isn't she your type?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Ask her out."

"I can't."

"Why not, if you like her?"

"Because I'm hanging out with someone who's dark and morose now. The two wouldn't blend."

"I think they would. She said 'we' can be friends. Besides, with you there to distract her, I can get away a lot easier."

He chuckled and opened the cafeteria door. We started through when someone from behind said, "Ladies, first."

I turned and the guy smiled. "Remember me? First day – we shared a moment ... well, not really, but we shared a book."

"Jenson, right?"

"Absolutely. Good memory."

Taking a chance he'd have the answer to the topmost thing on my mind, I went for it. "Jenson, do you know of anyone, a guy, at this school who has a French accent?"

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

Looking amused, Jenson said to Rhys. "Ouch. Lost out to a French guy, huh?" He looked back at me. "No, and if he does, it's probably fake. But if I see him, I'll be sure to let him know you're asking around about him."

Wishing I hadn't asked, I told Rhys I'd see him inside and walked into the cafeteria, but not before I heard Jenson ask, "What's with the French thing?"

"It's nothing. She met someone and was just curious."

"So you still have a chance? I mean ... she's kind of cute."

"You're reading it all wrong, man. Just friends."

The door closed.

I looked to where a long line of other students were standing in a single-file line with trays, waiting their turn to get their lunches, and saw a large tray with some small milk cartons on it. I went over to it and grabbed two of them and then, spotting a center table near the wall, I went over and sat. I opened my carton and glanced around the room as I sipped at it. There was no sign of the French guy. It was a letdown that Katrina and Jenson didn't know him – but someone else might. I wanted the chance to find him, confront him on everything, and finally know his name so I could stop calling him 'the French guy'. A few minutes later, Rhys came in and walked over. He sat across from me and opened his backpack to take out his lunch. "'French guy', again? What's your obsession?"

I passed one of the milk cartons to him. "Not an obsession. I'm just curious. I keep hearing I should make friends." I finished off my milk, got up, and tossed the empty carton into a nearby trashcan. "I'm going to the library. I'll see you later."

"What? I just got here."

"I know – and now I'm leaving. You took too long. I'm sure you'll find a replacement for me in seconds." I exited the cafeteria and turned down a long hallway to the left, toward the library. When I got there, I went inside. It was quiet, with muted light. A friendly looking librarian was behind the half-circular counter. "Can I help you?"

"Do you have any books on the history of Mannix?"

"Anything in particular?"

"Cortland Bridge and Cemetery Raven."

"Follow me." She moved out from behind the counter and headed toward the stacks. "Mannix has a lot of history. For instance, when the town was first established, it was named after its first governing official, who died under mysterious circumstances. The population was so small that it didn't even have an actual graveyard. It was more like a plot of land people used for various reasons and burying the dead was one of them. As the population grew, mainly from the influx of pirates, the isolated area officially became known as Cemetery Raven, after its first recorded inhabitant, Cesar D'Ravenne." She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. "Of course, there's speculation that he wasn't the actual first person to be buried there, but the name lends a certain charm. Have you been inside it? I think it's quite lovely."

"Yeah. It's nice for a cemetery. I heard it's haunted."

She abruptly turned to me with a scowl. "I thought you were interested in history, not nonsense." She stormed off back toward the front of the library and went to stand once again behind her desk.

Taken aback by her open hostility, I decided to do my research elsewhere and left. As I started toward my science class, someone called out, "Hey, Ashe! Get your books?"

It was Jenson.

"Not yet."

"Then the librarian's holding out on you. She usually has a lot. Which ones do you need?" He smiled broadly. "Want me to arm wrestle her for them?"

Not anxious to see her again, I said, "Maybe later, but right now, I need one for science."

"You'd have one if you hadn't left so fast."

Rhys was behind me, holding out his science book.

Jenson joked, "Why aren't you already in class, hair slicked back, ready to dazzle the teachers?"

I took the book. "Won't you need it?"

"I had that class earlier. Bring it with you tonight."

Jenson suddenly looked interested. "Tonight? What about 'French Guy?'"

The idea that I was getting around with Rhys made me uncomfortable, even if it was just a joke. Rhys said, "Like I already said, friends only. Don't get excited."

Jenson held up his hands in surrender. "Just a question."

"Thanks for the book. I'll see you later." I left and went to class. The first two hours of the afternoon passed slowly. Finally, the bell rang for the last class – Mythology.

As I made my way to the end of the hallway, I scanned the crowd for the unknown French guy, half hoping I would, and half hoping I wouldn't, see him, with the trouble it was starting to cause. But as I reached the classroom, Amber and her flunkies walked out, blocking the doorway. With her lip curled, she looked at me. "What?"

"I need to get in there – so, excuse me," I said.

She looked me over. "I seriously don't think the teacher will notice if you're not there because – you're nobody. You don't even have friends."

"I don't want to lower my standards by wasting time with you, Amber."

With her right hand over her heart, she said, "You should be so lucky to be in my presence. Everyone wants to be where I am."

"Then why don't you go to Hell and see how many follow you there," I said. "I hope you know how to count to one – and that you can manage squeezing your head through the gates of while doing it."

Clearly shocked at first, she recovered quickly and took a step closer to me. "You need to watch how you speak to me!"

"Or what? You'll ride your broom overhead and cast spells?"

Amber gaped at me while her entourage gasped and whispered amongst themselves before looking back at her to wait for her response.

Her eyes narrowed. "You look more the part than I do with your black hair! You know, one word from me and like this," she snapped her fingers, "no one will talk to you."

"Good," I said, edging closer. "Then I won't have to listen to the dim-witted, inane conversations of The Puppet Master and her puppets." I pushed past her into the classroom and went to my seat. Ignoring her heated stare, I opened my book and started to read.

"I heard your parents are dead!"

Slowly, my eyes met hers. "Talk about my parents again, and you'll regret it." Under extreme control, I pretended to go back to my reading.

She stayed only a moment longer and then left, trailed by her followers.

Other students began to file in, and I could hear their whispers about my confrontation with Amber. I didn't care. Eventually, Rhys was there and came to sit next to me. "What happened? Amber's heated and telling everyone you're a ..."

I looked over at him. "A what?"

"A terrific individual."

"She's just licking her wounds from being put in her place."

He chuckled. "I applaud that. A lot of people have wanted to but never have."

"Including you?"

"I've never had a reason to. I just hope I'm there next time to see the show, first-hand."

Our teacher came in just as the last bell rang and closed the door. Hands clasped before her, she stood at the front of the class quietly until everyone shifted their attention to her. "Today, we're going to cover the topics on the test I've planned."

Moans mixed with some rude comments filled the room.

"No groaning. Those who are smart enough to pay attention ..." she paused dramatically. "Will find the answers are being given."

Inwardly, I smiled. Having the answers meant less time studying and more time looking for ghosts.