OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL BEHIND THE NONDENOMINATIONAL CHAPEL

Monday, April 5th

4:04 P.M.

“Ew! What was that?” Alicia screeched, after accidentally grazing the back of Claire's light blue puffy jacket with her hand. “Can't we puh-lease turn on the lights? I'm scared.”

“Shhhhh,” Massie hissed. “No lights.”

“What are we doing back here?” Dylan insisted.

“Waiting to die.” Alicia sounded on the verge of tears.

Claire was relieved to know she wasn't the only one freaking out. For the last twenty minutes, she hadn't been able to shake the feeling that they were being watched. Not by Principal Burns or even Skye—more like by God or a serial killer.

The back of the chapel was creepy as it was, with the choir's black robes hanging on hooks and the row of narrow, windowless rooms used for meditation and silent prayer. But now, in the dark, with just the bluish glow from their open cell phones to guide them, it was horror-film creepy. It smelled like stale carpet and dusty old books. And all Claire could hear was Massie rattling doorknobs and knocking lightly on walls, obviously searching for the one thing they were forbidden to discuss.

“Kuh-laire, did you hear back from Cam yet?” Massie jiggled the last handle.

“I left three messages and still no—”

Distant footsteps distracted her.

“What was that?“ Alicia grabbed the back of Claire's jacket.

“Sounded like ballet flats on the chapel floor,” whispered Kristen.

“More like cheap Steve Maddens,” Massie corrected. “Come on.” She held her cell phone in front of her and hurried toward the noise. Claire was in awe of Massie's fearlessness, especially since Alicia, Dylan, Kristen, and her were clutching one another's palms, even though they were sweaty.

“Who's here?” Massie pushed through the blue velvet wings on the side of the stage like a fed-up Broadway actress and flicked on the lights.

Kaya and Penelope ducked behind a pew.

Massie glanced at Dylan and air-scribbled, letting her know to add Kaya and Penelope to the list of girls who got Skye's CD-ROM.

Dylan flashed her the thumbs-up.

“I see you.”

“So?” called Kaya, still crouched like a chipmunk. “It's not a crime to be here.”

“Actually, it is.” Kristen put her hands on her hips. “No one is allowed to be on school property after hours unless accompanied by a member of the faculty. It says so in the OCD handbook.”

“Then why are you here?” Penelope straightened up and twirled her curly brown high-pony. As usual, she was dressed like a burglar, in black AG cords and a black turtleneck.

“I lost my keys,” Massie jumped in.

The two girls exchanged a glance.

“In the chapel?” Kaya stood beside her partner in crime.

“Yeah. I was praying this morning.” Massie smirked. “But it didn't work. You're still ah-nnoying.”

Kaya gasped.

The Pretty Committee giggled.

“Penelope, are you a big boob?”

“No.” She snorted.

“Then why are you hanging?”

The Pretty Committee burst out laughing.

“You heard her,” Alicia snarled. “Leave!”

Penelope and Kaya stared back defiantly.

“Okay, then.” Massie flipped the power switch on the thin microphone clamped to the side of the altar. She leaned forward and pressed her glossed lips against it. “Kaya peed in her sleeping bag at my third-grade birthday party! And Penelope once sneezed during synchronized swim and—”

“Okay, fine!” Penelope took off faster than the cowardly lion in The Wizard of Oz. And Kaya was right behind her.

The girls exploded with laughter until Claire's cell rang.

“Is it Cam?” Massie wiped her tear-soaked cheeks.

“Yup,” Claire said before checking the screen. Her tingling feet were never wrong. “Hullo?” She jumped off the stage.

“Hey.” He sounded like he was jogging or pacing. “What's wrong? Did you make your decision? Are you moving?”

“What?” Claire's blond eyebrows practically smashed together. “No. Why?”

“You called like three times and I got worried.”

“Oh.” Claire felt an overwhelming need to touch his shoulder. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

He sighed. She could hear his relief.

Massie gave Claire the hurry-up-and-get-on-with-it hand signal.

“Um.” She walked up the steps to the stage. “I was thinking, uh, maybe we could come over tonight.”

“We?”

Claire walked down the steps.

“Yeah.” She looked at Massie, her wide blue eyes screaming for help. “We.”

“Soccer lessons,” Massie mouthed.

Kristen rolled her eyes.

“We want soccer lessons.” She hated lying to him, and wondered if he sensed her blushing. “‘Cause we're joining the OCD Sirens.”

“Sure.” He laughed. “But I can't tonight.”

“Why?” Disappointment spread through Claire's body like a wave of prickly heat. And would rage through Massie's like a brush fire.

“I have a science test first period tomorrow and if I don't get a B-plus or higher, I'll—”

“We'll only be there for a few minutes,” Claire heard herself whine.

Massie stomped her foot, obviously sensing the outcome. “Make him say yes.”

“How about tomorrow?” Cam asked, sounding hopeful.

“Uhhhh, hold on, I'm losing my signal,” Claire lied again. Once she was by the chapel doors, she said, “That's better,” much louder than she needed to. Then she turned in toward her phone. “I can't tomorrow,” she whispered. “I'll be in Manhattan, meeting with my agent. What about Thursday?”

“Soccer practice.”

“Oh.” Claire bit her thumbnail.

“How about Friday?” he offered.

“Are you sure you can't do tonight?”

“I wish I could, but—”

“That's okay, I understand.” Claire didn't have to look up to know that the Pretty Committee was surrounding her. She could hear them whispering and shushing one another. “See you Friday.”

“Bye.”

Claire said goodbye in her head, but in reality she just hung up the phone.

“Friday?” Massie snapped. “That's the soonest we can get in there? What if someone else gets there first?” She gestured to the pews where Kaya and Penelope had been hiding.

“He has to study tonight.” Claire's entire body felt heavy.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Uh, his uncle is visiting.” She lied a third time. But she couldn't bear the thought of the girls at Cam's house without her. What if he realized that Massie was cooler than she was? Or that Alicia was prettier? Or that Dylan was funnier? Or that Kristen was a better athlete?

But then again, what if Massie knew that Claire's insecurities were keeping them from finding the key? Could anything be worse than that? There was no easy way out of this.

All Claire could do was lift her eyes toward the stained-glass dome above her head and pray for the best.