“Sorry,” Reg said with a wave to the crowd and a great big grin.

I flinched, thinking he was apologizing for me, his strangely dressed sister, but as he tugged one of the giant doors closed, I realized his apology was for the noise.

The hallway wasn’t exactly silent, with its slamming lockers and the sound of friends reuniting after a long summer apart, but it did seem like it had gone a little quiet after our entrance. Or maybe that was just the ringing in my ears. I closed my eyes, a wave of dizziness washing over me as my newly beating heart pumped double time.

When I opened my eyes again, most of the staring had stopped, but a few gazes lingered. A girl who had been eyeballing my skirt now turned to whisper something to a friend, and I pulled self-consciously at the hem of my vintage leather.

How could I have gotten this so wrong?

Okay, so Reg and I had spent most of the last century in big cities, and sure, we hadn’t had any experience inside actual high schools, but we’d spent enough time with teenagers. Hell, it was a teenager who got us into this mortal mess! And that teen was just like all the others we’d known, from Beverly Hills to Dubai. Sure, they wore ripped jeans, but those holes cost hundreds of dollars and were straight off the runway. Could small-town Iowa really be this out of touch? I glanced at Reg in his plaid flannel shirt. Or maybe I’m the one out of touch here.

The only thing I had in common with the rest of these students was the backpack strapped to my shoulders, and I had Reg to thank for that. He’d convinced me to leave my Birkin bag at home, saying it might split at the seams if I tried to stuff it full of textbooks. I realized now that he’d just said it to protect me. He knew—or at least, he suspected—what we might find here. And while he’d never be able to talk me out of my designer duds, he’d done what little he could to keep me from looking foolish. Maybe Sal was right to make him the older one. In that moment, he did feel like my big brother.

“Pardon me,” Reg said, touching the shoulder of a passing student—a not-unpleasant-looking boy with sun-kissed skin and shaggy blond hair. “We’re new and in need of guidance. Perhaps you could come to our aid?”

My really embarrassing big brother.

“Oh, okay.” The boy looked surprised to be addressed by strangers—or maybe to be addressed so strangely—and when he stopped, it was with some reluctance. “What, uh—what can I help you with?”