Twisted by Francine Pascal

event deemed worthy of a schoolwide announcement had turned out to be a pep rally. Earth-shattering stuff.
    â€œDue to recent events, the school will be dosing early today. The last period will end at one P.M . Additional counselors will be on hand in the lunchroom for any students who feel they would benefit from a counseling session. School hours will return to normal tomorrow. Thank you.” The voice ended with another squirt of static.
    The announcement of an early end to the school day drew a few muted cheers but didn’t get nearly the reaction that Gaia had expected. She leaned toward a skinny, red-haired guy at a nearby desk.
    â€œWhat events are they talking about?” she asked. “Why let us out early?”
    The redhead nodded his pointy chin toward a desk at the front of the room. An empty desk.
    Gaia stared at the desk, trying to remember whose body normally filled it. It wasn’t Hateful Heather. Heather was in her usual place of power at the center of the room. It wasn’t Ed. Ed wasn’t in this class. Gaia frowned as she tried to remember. It was . . . It was . . .
    Cassie Greenman. The girl who had told Gaia about the killing the day before. The girl who had said they looked alike.
    Gaia turned to the red-haired guy again. “What happened to Cassie?”
    Redhead moved his lips to form a single word. Gaia didn’t have to be much of a lip-reader to make it out. Gentleman.
    The headache that had only threatened in Gaia’s bedroom suddenly came on with full force. “Where?” she asked.
    The guy looked toward the teacher and tried to avoid Gaia’s attention.
    â€œWhere?” she said again, more than a little louder. “Where did it happen?”
    â€œIn the park at eleven o’clock,” the redhead shot back. He picked up his book and opened it, angling the pages so they formed a screen to ward off Gaia.
    It didn’t matter. Gaia had asked all the questions that mattered. She closed her eyes and tried to fight back waves of nausea and confusion. It was too coincidental, too weird. Cassie knew about themurderer. Why in the world would she be anywhere near the park at eleven o’clock at night?
    How could Gaia have failed a second time? It almost felt like this killer was taunting her. Once again he had struck right under her nose. And this time it had been someone Gaia knew.
    Gaia had thought she could catch this guy before he did any more damage. She had maybe hoped there was something good in being fearless. Maybe even something good in being a muscle-bound freak. Something that made her life worthwhile.
    Obviously she was wrong.

MARY
    I make friends pretty easily. I’m fun. I’m loud. I know how to have a good time.
    People are drawn to me.
    But I’m not always drawn to them.
    But this Gaia person? I genuinely like her. She intrigues me. That’s why I gave her my number and told her to call if she ever felt like hanging out.
    It’s obvious she never will, but it’s a gesture. And when you make a gesture, sometimes people feel they owe you something. And when people feel they owe you something . . . Well, that can come in handy from time to time.

a simple job
    The sooner the information reached Sam, the better the chance of saving Gaia.
Murphy’s Law
    TOM MOORE TUGGED DOWN ON his brown cap and did his best shade his face. He had no suspect that anyone would recognize him on the campus of NYU, especially dressed as he was in the brown uniform of a package deliveryman, but it didn’t pay to take chances.
    Years of experience had taught Tom that Murphy’s Law was always in full operation when you were undercover. If anything could go wrong, it would. Even when nothing could go wrong, it went wrong, anyway.
    Today’s expedition into the city seemed like a simple thing—drop off a package, run, and hope that the person getting the package knew what to do with the information it contained. That only made