The bell rings, interrupting us. “Better get to class!”

Lennon bounds down the hallway. I’ve never seen her so excited for school.

The day progresses, and I get the impression no one actually wants to work on Fridays, with the exception of Mr. Val. Students languidly move through lessons, and even Coach David is distracted during PE—not that our class is ever his first priority.

After seventh hour, I walk with Lennon toward the dorms. As we near the front of Emerson, Lennon sticks out her hand to stop me. When I go to open my mouth, she puts her finger to her lips and peers around the side of the building. I follow her example and see Lily and Natalie standing together on the sidewalk.

“Really, Lils, you haven’t damaged your reputation that much. You don’t need to hang out with those death-speakers.”

Based on the fact that Lily is supposed to hang out with me and Lennon tonight, I have to guess Natalie’s referring to us when she says “death-speaker.”

I lean to whisper to Lennon. “What’s a death-speaker?”

She meets my gaze. “It’s…a nickname.”

What kind of nickname is death-speaker? Not only does it sound archaic, it’s very specific. Chills run down my spine, and I have to wonder if Natalie knows more about me than I realize.

Lily continues. “Those death-speakers actually asked me if I was okay. That’s more than I can say for you.”

I can’t see Natalie’s face, but I can tell by the change in her voice that what Lily said upset her.

“Lily…I…”

“I know what you think,” Lily says, and her voice is a whisper, tinged with pain like frost cracking across glass. The silence that follows grows colder too.

I step out from our hiding place and round the corner. Natalie spares me a single, angry glance and leaves. Lily smiles, almost relieved, and I have this feeling she thought I wouldn’t come.

“Hey!” I say, smiling. “Sorry we’re a little late. Coach David made us run extra laps.”

Lily smiles too. “He can be a jerk sometimes.” Her gaze slips hesitantly from me to Lennon, who fills the space beside me.

“Tell me about it,” Lennon says, rolling her eyes. “I think he has it out for us.”

I step forward, looping my arm through Lily’s—much like Lennon does with me—and set off toward Emerson.

“Let’s get ready for the game.”

We make it to Lennon’s dorm and meet her roommate, a short, blond girl named Sara who’s working on smearing black on her cheeks with a kohl pencil. When she looks at us, her eyelids sparkle with blue glitter. She’s also wearing a jersey with the number seven on the front and back.

“Who’s seven?” I ask after introductions are made, curious.

“Jacobi Quinn,” Lily answers.

“Oh…is he your boyfriend?” I ask Sara.