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seriously disturbing stuff—that was pretty much what I got from it. Maybe that was all I would write across the test: Seriously disturbing.
And receive a big, fat F , no doubt.
After what seemed like hours of going over the themes and tones of the story—the type of stuff that would probably be on the test—Charlotte flopped back onto the shag carpet, blond hair fanning out around her like a halo. She huffed loudly and stretched her arms out.
"I don't know about you, but I'm done. I've had enough death and despair for one night."
"Yeah." I shut the book with a snap, relieved. Truthfully, I hadn't been studying very well. Mostly, I'd been craning my neck to check the window every six seconds, looking for that car again. A few trucks had gone past, but no black town car.
Charlotte was right. I was being paranoid.
We put the notes away and sat back on the couch, debating which movie we should watch. Finally we settled on something called The Marigold Hotel , and moved to the kitchen to lean on the counter while the popcorn popped.
“I still can't believe the Barbies started talking to me."
“I’m surprised you even humor them." I wrinkled my nose. "I thought you hated them."
"I don't hate them." Charlotte stretched up on her tiptoes, opened one of the cupboards with a loud creak, and pulled a pair of chipped, blue mugs down. "We just don't travel in the same circles. Ever."
Shrugging, I took one of the mugs as she began to dole out hot chocolate powder. "They sound crazy to me. And Amy is really...intense."
"She's like that about everything," Charlotte said. “I remember when she and her friend last year liked the same guy. Becca, I think it was. I'm not sure though."
My eyes went wide. "I can only imagine. Did they fight to the death or what?"
Charlotte snorted. "Hardly. There was a throwdown in the hallway, and Amy reduced Becca to tears and made her swear off Jonathan."
“Not surprised. Did Amy date this guy after?"
"Yeah—for, like, three days. Then she dumped him for some new guy and that was it." Charlotte rolled her eyes and headed for the living room. "There's always some kind of drama going on in the group, but Amy's the leader. They don't go up against her. At least, not if they want to stay friends."
"Why would they want to stay friends?" I retrieved the popcorn and followed her. "Because they all think they're some kind of weird connection between them? Like they came from the same planet or something?"
"Yeah. Like Scientology."
"So...a cult."
"Exactly." Charlotte laughed, but she had popcorn in her mouth, so it came out in a sort of snort, which reduced us both to fits of helpless giggles.
We ended up doing more gossiping than movie watching. Then it was already nine o’clock, and my cell was vibrating my leg through my sweatshirt pocket. Uncle Dave was on his way.
Charlotte hugged me goodbye at the door, and I stiffened at first, surprised. After a second I relaxed. She’d brushed my arm and nothing had happened. There was nothing to worry about.
Dave cheerfully grilled me about my new friend as we picked our way down the icy driveway. I told him that it was the best study date I'd ever had, and surprisingly, I meant it.

Chapter Six
     
Amy grabbed my arm the second I walked through the door, yanking me into the hallway that lead to the bathroom. "Did you see it?"
I pulled out of her grip, uneasy. "What? See what?" There was a thick jacket between my arm and her hand, but she was still too close for comfort.
"There was a creepy black car in the parking lot yesterday. One I've never seen before. Then it showed up at my house. I mean, parked down the street, but it was the same car. The other girls think I'm being paranoid." She glared over her shoulder at her little crew.
The other girls flinched, and Malibu Barbie—Stacey—shrugged apologetically.
"I didn't see anything.”
Everyone seemed to agree, but nobody actually spoke up. Apparently, they were all too cowed by Amy. I could only stare at