"Doesn't your ex- boyfriend go there?"

"You got it,"she says grimly. "I just saw him in Florida, and he kind of wanted to get back together."

"You told him no?"

"Of course. He broke my heart. No way am I putting it out there again with him, especially now that . . ."

"Now that you have Jacy. It's okay. You can say it."

"It doesn't bother you?"

Evangeline shrugs. "If he had to fall in love with one of us- and it couldn't be me- then I'm glad it's you."

Calla can't help but grin at that, even as she protests, "He's not in love with me."

"Oh, yeah, he is. I saw you guys walking together the other day, and it was totally obvious. I've never seen him look that comfortable ever, anywhere, unless he was running."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But listen, about Cornell-just because your old boyfriend is there doesn't mean you shouldn't go look at it."

"True."

"Or that you shouldn't go there, if you want to. I mean, it's a huge school."

Also true. But . . .

Hearing tires crunching on the road behind them, she turns to see Blue Slayton in his BMW.

"Want a ride?"he calls out the window.

"Definitely!"Evangeline answers for both of them. "It's going to start pouring any second."

Then, with a belated glance at Calla, she asks in a low voice, "You don't mind, right? I left my umbrella at school the other day. Unless you have one?"

"No. It's okay, we can ride with Blue."She hasn't seen much of him since they mutually, and without discussing it, concluded they're better off as friends.

He leans over and opens the pa.s.senger- side door. A pair of crutches are propped in the backseat. Evangeline scrambles in beside them, leaving Calla to sit in front with Blue.

"How's your leg?"she asks, thinking she probably should have called to ask him about it when she got back to town.

He was injured a few weeks ago in a soccer game, the night before she was supposed to go to the homecoming dance with him.

"It's better. How was your trip to Florida?"

"Great,"she lies, not wanting to get into it.

"What'd you do?"

"Oh, you know . . . the usual Florida stuff."

"The weather was great, right?"

Was it? That was so far off her radar, given what happened, that there could have been a hurricane and she probably wouldn't remember.

"Sure,"she agrees, because it's easier that way. "The weather was great, and I hung out with my old friends."

"Yeah. I kept seeing you there."

Seeing her?

Oh! He means in a psychic vision, of course.

"What did you see?"she asks cautiously, aware that now he's going to ask her about Sharon Logan, and about her mother, and maybe even about the baby.

And then she's going to have to explain it all to Evange-line, too.

Life was so much less complicated when she wasn't surrounded by people who know as much- or more- about what she's been doing than she does.

"You know, you were in the water-couldn't tell if it was a pool or the Gulf,"Blue says.

Now he's going to tell me someone was trying to drown me, and he's going to ask why . . . unless he already knows.

"You were wearing a bathing suit, and you looked great in it, of course- and you were really relaxed, and there were palm trees, you know, and a bunch of people. You were having a great time."

"Really?"Calla doesn't dare look at Evangeline, who now knows the truth about what happened there.

Calla hasn't worn a bathing suit in ages.

And her time in the water was hardly relaxing.

"Yeah, really."Blue flashes her his familiar, flirty smile. "I like to keep tabs on you, you know?"

Uneasy, she watches the wipers' rhythmic arc across the rain-spattered windshield. "Well, anyway . . . thanks for picking us up. I thought your dad didn't like you to drive to school."

That's because Blue got a speeding ticket one morning, doing sixty in a school zone.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't have much choice. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Hobble down the road on crutches?"

"He could drop you off,"Evangeline points out.

"Yeah, he could . . . if he were around. But he's not."

Typical. Blue's father, David Slayton, is a celebrity medium who spends far more time in front of television cameras in New York and LA than he does with his son in Lily Dale.

Calla has only met the man once, and was unnerved by his warning that she was going to find herself in a dangerous situation. He didn't specify water, as others had, but somehow, his warning left just as great an impact on her.

But . . . what about Blue?

Why is he talking about things that didn't happen, as if he's trying hard- too hard- to convince her of his psychic abilities?

Maybe because he doesn't have any, she realizes, and her stomach turns a little.

Maybe, living in his father's larger-than- life shadow, Blue feels obligated to live up to a larger-than- life reputation. And maybe he thinks that the only way he can do that is to lie.

Sitting beside him, driving toward the school, Calla is certain she made the right choice when she chose Jacy over Blue, the guy all the Lily Dale High girls want.

With Jacy, what you see is what you get.

He doesn't play games, and he doesn't pretend to be someone he's not.

They pull into the crowded school parking lot, and Blue instantly finds an empty spot close to the door.

"This is a miracle,"Evangeline declares, as he turns off the engine. "I thought you'd have to park in, like, the next state. How'd you manage this?"

"Guess I was born under a lucky star. Hey, Calla, can I talk to you for a second?"

Uh- oh.

"Sure."

As Evangeline scrambles out of the backseat, she raises her brows at Calla, who shrugs.

She has no idea what Blue wants to talk about, but she has a feeling it's not the weather.

"See you later, guys. Thanks for the ride, Blue."

"No problem."

Evangeline closes the door behind her, leaving them alone in the car to watch her splash off through the rain toward the redbrick school.

"Calla . . ."

She turns toward him reluctantly, wondering what to say if he asks her out again. She can tell him she can't because of Jacy, though she and Jacy haven't exactly discussed whether they're free to see other people. She knows she doesn't want to, and she's pretty sure he doesn't either.

"What's up, Blue?"she asks breezily, as if she's expecting him to ask her what the cafeteria is serving for lunch today.

"Before my dad left for London last night, he asked me if I'd seen you lately. I kind of . . . told him you were away."

Puzzled, she says, "That's okay. I was."

"No, I mean . . . I told him you were still away last night. And that I didn't know when you were coming back."

"You lied? Why?"

"Because I didn't want him bugging you."

"Bugging me?"she echoes. "Why would he bug me?"

"He can be really pushy. I wasn't even going to tell you about this, but . . . well, he called again this morning to ask if you were back yet. He hardly ever calls when he's on the road, especially from overseas. I told him you were coming back today and that I'd let you know he wants to talk to you."

"What about, though?"

"Something that I'm sure is none of his business,"Blue says with a scowl.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. He wouldn't tell me. All he said was that it's about your mother."

"Tell me, Calla, how is everything going?"asks Mrs. Erskine, an attractive thirty-something blonde who has a framed, recent wedding photo on her desk.

How is everything going? You mean other than the fact that my mother's dead, my father's here, someone tried to kill me over the weekend, and I have no idea what I want to do next year?

"Everything's going great!"She smiles so brightly her face hurts.

"I'm glad."Mrs. Erskine opens a manila folder. "Your transcript shows that you were a straight- A student back in Florida. And your grades are very good so far this term . . . other than math, I see."

She waits for Calla to reply.

What am I supposed to say to that?

"I'm kind of having a hard time getting used to how it, um, works here."

As if math works differently in this part of the country.

Yeah, right.

Mrs. Erskine sort of nods, and Calla can tell she's thinking that's no excuse. A formula is a formula.

She looks away, at the rain-spattered windowpane and the gray world beyond.

"I can recommend some tutors so that you can-"

"Oh, I don't need a tutor. Willow York is my study partner, and my dad is helping me, too."

"Your father?"Mrs. Erskine glances quickly at the folder, then up again. "But he's in California, and it might be more helpful for you to work with someone who's-"

"No,"Calla interrupts again, "actually, he's here now."

"For a visit?"

"To stay."She pauses. "For a while."She pauses again, conscious of the woman's intent stare. "Or maybe for good."

"I'm glad. It's a good idea for you two not to be separated after . . . all you've been through."

Mrs. Erskine doesn't know the half of it.

Uncomfortable, Calla looks at her watch. "Um . . . you had said you wanted to see me about college applications?"