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Aunt Penny asks, nodding at the TV.
    On the bottom of the screen is a photo of a boy with bright blue eyes, scruffy red hair, and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He’s wearing a baggy sweatshirt and scowling at the camera.
    “Nope,” I say, slurping up the last of my milk. I take my bowl over to the sink and give it a quick wash.
    “I’m going to need you to work at the shop for a bit tonight,” Aunt Penny says as I dry the bowl.
    “What?” I whirl around, tea towel still in hand.
    “I have a meeting with the bank at four. House stuff. It’s really important or I wouldn’t ask.”
    Must stay calm. Must not explode.
    “It’ll be for only a few hours at most,” she adds.
    I’m about to tell her where to shove her bank meeting when I realize that she’s providing me with both the perfect place to perform the locating ceremony and a chunk of unsupervised time.
    “Fine,” I grumble. I chuck the tea towel into the sink for effect and grab my messenger bag.
    “Come straight after school!” she calls to my back as I fly out of the front door into the bright morning sunshine.

    I’ve never been particularly excited to go to school, despite managing straight As in all my classes (which are probably D’s after the mounds of tests and assignments I missed in the sixteen days I’ve been absent), but today, the prospect is especially unappealing. There are a few reasons for this.
    1) Paige is missing—duh.
    2) I look like I should be at home hoarding newspapers and feeding my eighteen cats. Allow me to elaborate: my hair is an Afro on a good day. Without time to blow it out thismorning, it’s an absolute nest of snarly blond curls and I wouldn’t be surprised if an actual bird had made a home in there. I’m also still sporting dark shadows under my eyes that not even Aunt Penny’s Hollywood makeup artistry could conceal, and I’m all too aware that the shirt I grabbed off the back of my chair has a jam stain, which I have to use the strap of my bag to conceal.
    And lastly,
    3) I have to face Bianca and the rest of the people who saw Bishop and me being chased by the dragon that Leo and his goons sent after us the night of homecoming. Despite all signs pointing to their memories of the incident having been wiped clean, I’m still nervous to see everyone for the first time.
    And the worst part? I have to do it alone. I briefly tossed around the idea of begging Aunt Penny to consider home-schooling until I realized QT with my aunt would be more painful than school.
    I park my Sunfire, then take a quick glance in the rearview mirror. I shudder and make a mental note to avoid any reflective surfaces for the rest of the day.
    The hallways are a din of voices, laughter, and the metallicsound of lockers slamming closed. A massive blue and silver banner strung across the hall proudly proclaims Fairfield as the winner of the annual homecoming game against Beverly Hills High—Go Renegades—and members of the football team engage in a wrestling match, which Mrs. Hornby tries to break up as a crowd calls out bets on the winner.
    For a split second, it’s comforting, the familiarity of the place. I start to feel like, hey, maybe the world
hasn’t
tipped off its axis. But in that same split second I remember that—no—everything isn’t normal, Paige isn’t here, and then I’m angry with myself for deigning to think anything could be okay when it’s so, so not.
    At least no one’s staring at me
, I think as I maneuver through the halls toward my locker.
    Someone grabs my arm and says, “Indie?” very hesitantly.
    Thea, all four feet nine of her, stares up at me with eyes the shape of saucers as she realizes that, yes, in fact, it
is
Indie. She drops her hand from my arm as though looking like crap might be contagious.
    Heat creeps up my neck and onto my cheeks. “Hi, Thea.”
    “What happened to you?” she asks.
    I roll my eyes. Does the girl have no tact? I’m inclined to tell her that my chemo