It's fine I said.

But her words haunt me. They laugh like an intruder in the closet, terrifying me but leaving me with no room for escape.

That's what you don't understand, she said. It's not done. It hasn't even started yet.

In the most forgotten hour of day or night, I remember.

And I realize something that's truly paralyzing: If this is how it all starts, where will it end?

7. Two Surprises.

The biggest surprise when I get back to school after a couple of snow days isn't some figure in a black robe and a pitchfork guarding the entrance to Mr. Meiners' classroom. It's not a bloody note in my locker saying You did this. It's not some clique of pale and glistening beautiful people that everybody and their brother should know are vampires.

No. It's when golden boy Ray Spencer comes up and asks me to try out for track.

What?

"Yeah, I heard over break that you were a pretty decent runner at your old school."

Of all the rumors that could have been circulating, this is what he ends up asking about.

I'm quiet and probably seem a bit standoffish because I still don't trust anybody, including this grinning homecoming king. Who once dated Jocelyn.

"What is it?" Ray asks. "Am I wrong?"

"Who told you I was on track?"

He laughs. He's wearing some new sweatshirt that's surely one of the fifty presents he opened on Christmas Day. "Is it some national secret?"

"I'm not a big fan of secrets," I say.

Ray chuckles and scratches his head. "Yeah, well, you moved to the wrong town. Okay-want to know the truth? I was looking you up online, and I saw some stuff on you at your old school. You ran track. Hurdles, right?"

"What were you trying to find out?"

It's the first time I've ever seen the guy look irritated. For a moment he looks like he might walk away, but then he shrugs.

"Look, I'm on the track team, and our team needs as much help as it can get. No big deal. I would have asked you over break, but I was traveling with our family the whole time."

"So you weren't around New Year's Eve?"

"No. Why?"

I try to see if he's lying. "Just curious."

"Haven't seen you at church either."

"Maybe the church thing isn't for me," I say.

"No big deal. So anyway, I was curious, so I googled you and looked up some info from your last school. Okay?"

Everybody isn't a criminal, Chris. Everybody's not to blame.

"Yeah, I ran hurdles. I'm fast but not that fast. My best event is the three-hundred-meter."

"That's awesome."

"Really?"

"Totally," Ray says. "That's a tough race. We haven't had anybody to run that. We're always getting blown out. And if you haven't noticed, we're not exactly into track. Football's the only sport anybody really cares about around here."

"I didn't even know there was a track team," I say.

"See-why do you think I was looking for another runner? I need more people who appreciate track."

"Are you the captain or something?"

He rolls his eyes and just then sees some of his buddies down the hall. "Just think about it, okay? Practice starts this week."

"Do I have to try out or anything?"

"No. If you've been on a team before, you'll be more than welcome on ours."

I see him walk away with the casual cool walk of someone who doesn't know failure.

I think I used to walk like that, back at my old school in Libertyville. It was easy to walk like that with a pack full of friends and a lawyer father who paid the bills even if he didn't pay attention to anything else.

I have to admit that I resent that walk. Quite a bit.

I wonder if I'll ever get it back.

One of the two people I've been waiting to see is walking toward me.

I wondered which one I'd see first. I was hoping to see Rachel, but instead I see her dark-souled sister.

I want to know if she knows. I want to see if she can see the truth, the truth that this school and this town and this air seem to be poisonous. But Poe looks away, as usual. She even appears to be heading past me without a hello.

I keep thinking that somewhere under the black eyeliner and pale skin and those fishnets and boots lies a girl who's just like any ordinary girl.

"Poe."

I stop as she keeps going.

Naturally.

I turn and follow her and call out her name. When she finally turns, I see tears in her eyes.

She knows.

"Are you happy now?" she snaps.

The words bite. I would have been more prepared for her to slap me.

"Happy for what?"

"They're gone."

They? As in plural? Who's she talking about?

"Look-we have to-maybe we shouldn't-" I look around to see if anybody is watching us.

And yes, the usual audience is there. It's like this school employs a bunch of movie extras. Okay, we'll pay you to linger and loiter around Chris and just stare and gawk and act like you have absolutely nothing else to do.

"Get out of my face," she says. Or spits, more like it.

I notice a lip ring that appears to be something new.

"Poe."

"This is all your fault. I hope you're happy now."

I want to pull her back, but I know if I touch her I'll probably get belted.

So, two things I didn't expect on this first day back. An offer for track and all its glory. And being shunned by Poe, one of the only friends I assumed I had left.

There's Newt. Don't forget Newt.

I'm going to find that guy and sit him down and make him talk.

And then ... well, then I'll figure something out.

Like what the heck Poe's talking about.

8. Empty Canvas.

There is a gift in my locker.

No note this time. Not like the others I received, warning me, teasing me, messing with my mind.

No gun either. That nice little gift got me kicked out before the principal and the rest of the school realized that someone planted it.

I still don't know who did that. But that's only number 72 on the list of questions needing answers.

Today the gift is a picture.

I take it out and glance over my shoulder to see if anyone is watching me. Not that I can see.

It's a creased page from a magazine. A photograph of an ordinary road going into the woods. It looks like a colorful fall day. Could have been taken somewhere around here.

At the bottom of the page is something written in black ink. In Jocelyn's handwriting.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

I'm pretty sure that's a famous poem, but I don't know who wrote it.

This was in Jocelyn's locker.

So why is it suddenly in mine?

As I close my door, I wonder what happened to the rest of her stuff.

More than ever before, except maybe on that first day of stepping into a semester already halfway through, I feel eyes on me. Watching and waiting. Wondering when I'm finally going to give up.

I think back to Jared's parting words when he dropped me off.

I'll be in contact with you. That's the way it has to be.

I wonder when I'll see him next.

All I know is that I'm supposed to say and do nothing. Just go with the flow. And that's what I'm doing.

It takes half the day before I find Newt. At lunch I finally sit across from him and give him a look that I hope conveys what I'm thinking.

A look that says If you don't give me answers I'll do exactly what Gus Staunch did to you that first day I saw you being smeared across the school hallway.

"Lunch might be the worst place ever to talk about stuff," he whispers as he smells his white-bread sandwich.

"Do you know?"

He looks one way, then the other. "I know enough."

I shake my head and motion my hands in a So what now? gesture. He takes a bite of the sandwich and then makes a face.

"Well?" I ask.

"Lunch is a time to eat."