The Unquiet by Jeannine Garsee

details. “And when I found her on the square, she couldn’t talk to me. Her voice was
gone
.”
    Nate, disgusted, shakes his head. “About Lacy. I guess I should’ve warned you.”
    “Warned me that she’s a witch? I figured that out the first day.”
    “So why hang around her?”
    “How can I not hang around her? She’s Meg’s friend, and I like Meg.” Though not so much last night. Remembering something, I add defensively, “Anyway, from what I hear, you used to hang out with her, too.”
    He eyes me. “Meaning?”
    “Meaning I know you hooked up.”
    “Hooked up as in ‘going out,’ which we did, or as in ‘having sex,’ which we did not?”
    Relief washes over me. “You didn’t?”
He didn’t!
    “Cripe, Rinn, gimme credit for a brain.”
    “So why did you stop ‘going out’ with her?”
    “Because she cheated on me the whole time.”
    “Right, with Dino. Uh, Tasha mentioned something,” I add at his sharp look.
    “My fault, for not knowing better. They’ve been messing around since middle school. Sneaking around, really, since Lacy thinks she’s too good for him. But that doesn’t stop her from … well, you get the picture.”
    “He’s sort of her Homecoming date. Unofficially, that is.”
Poor clueless Chad
.
    Nate smiles crookedly. “Anyhow, it’s not like we were serious.” He squeezes my hand, lifting my mood a hundred percent.
    I smile at our entwined fingers as we hop down the steps.

     
    According to King Solomon’s announcement over the PA, the no-cut-through-the-gym rule will not apply during the Homecoming dance. In fact, the tunnel is forbidden tomorrow night, for our “own safety,” he says. Either he caught wind of Lacy’s planned séance or he thinks we’ll use it for an orgy den.
    Cecilia and I reach the art room at the same time. “How’s the voice?” I ask anxiously.
    She clears her throat as if testing it. “Fine now.”
    “Good. I was worried.”
    “I bet.” With that, she stalks away.
    Okay, I get it: she’s mad as hell.
    I trail in and take my ceramic bowl/candleholder/whatever off the shelf. Meg, pale, her un-made-up eyes shadowed, strolls in last and drops into place.
    “I didn’t sleep much last night,” she offers, though I didn’t comment.
    Guilty conscience, I hope.
“Why not?”
    She lifts a shoulder. “My ears again. No biggie.”
    My candleholder looks fabulous now that it’s painted—smooth, dark red, only slightly lopsided, with my name etched into the bottom. I decide to skip the glossy finish so I can take it home tonight, find a candle, and place it on the porch for the trick-or-treaters.
    “Are you mad at me because of what happened with Cecilia?” Meg murmurs.
    “I’m madder at Lacy,” I say truthfully. “Sick of her, too.”
    “Rinn, you really don’t know her that well.”
    “Maybe I don’t want to.”
    “I’ve known her forever. If she acted like that
all
the time, do you think I’d stay friends with her?” I flash her a
hell-if-I-know
look. “Okay, she’s bitchier than usual. But that’s because—”
    I hold up a hand. “I get it already.”
    “Well, good. Because I don’t appreciate having to defend my friends.” Meg’s dirty look surprises me. “And why did
you
have to open your mouth about you know what? To Cecilia yet! She’s not even part of our group.”
    I glance at Cecilia, hoping she didn’t hear. “I don’t know. I was mad. It just slipped out.”
    Pause. “Guess we all have our bitchy moments.”
    “I guess so.” We exchange forgiving smiles, and then I brandish my candleholder. “I think I’ll bring this to the séance.”
    Just like that, Meg shuts down. “Right. That séance.”
    “I’ll protect you,” I joke. She rubs one ear and says nothing. Firmly I add, “Meg, it’s just a
tunnel
. And it’s just a game, okay?”
    She nods, casually.
    I don’t think she believes me.

     
    After school, I catch Cecilia on her way out, to try to make up with her one more time.