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  Over two hundred thousand options appeared. My eyes widened. Most of the links were new age information pieces, which of course it might have been… maybe Nell was into crystals and all that? Somehow it didn’t seem likely to me. These seemed to be mostly innocuous articles about lightness and goodness and peace, and none of those applied to Nell.

  About halfway down the first page, I saw a simple line reading “The Occult and Music/Chanting”. I clicked on it, scrolled down through several pages of musical history, skimming it to see that nothing related to what I had heard. Finally, a line caught my eye: Chanting can be an integral part of spell casting and the working of magiks. Most spell chanting is performed in the ancient languages such as Latin, although there has been a recent movement toward using a primitive Egyptian as well as other African tribal tongues. Some smaller sects utilize their own mother tongues, including Russian, Greek or Romanian.

  Something clicked. I was sure that Nell had not been thinking of Latin chanting; I knew it wasn’t Egyptian or African, and I didn’t think it sounded Greek. I thought Russian or Romanian might be stronger possibilities.

  I copied that part of the article and pasted it into a blank email. Above it, in bold print, I added,

  Found this online. Maybe it was Russian or Romanian? Any thoughts? See you in a few hours.

  Love,

  Tas

  I typed Michael’s address in the TO: section and hit send.

  I closed the computer and put it next to the bed. Sleep was what I needed now, even if I was still a little jumpy. I knew the sleepiness would end up hitting me in mid-morning if I didn’t catch at least another two hours. So I burrowed my face into my pillow and wrapped the blanket around my shoulder, up by my ears.

  But I left the bedside light burning. Just in case.

  When I got into the car the next morning, Michael was looking at me speculatively.

  “Insomnia?” he inquired.

  I sighed. “Bad dream, which led to about an hour of missed sleep. So I made the most of it.”

  “Well, as nice as it was to wake up to an email from you, I’m sorry about your bad dream. At least you accomplished something while you were up.”

  “What did you think my information?” I asked.

  “Hard for me to say, since I didn’t hear the chant.”

  I frowned slightly. “I wonder if there’s any way for me to hear Romanian and Russian, to see if either sounds familiar.”

  Michael’s face brightened. “I bet if you searched ‘Romanian’ under video or audio, you’d find some site in that language and could listen to it.”

  “Good idea. I’ll check after school today.”

  “What was the dream about?”

  I blew out a breath. “Amber, Nell… bad scary stuff. I was trying to find you, but it was night. Really dark.” I shuddered a little, remembering. “I knew if I found you, I’d be okay.”

  He reached over to grip my hand briefly. “You’d be right.”

  We were both quiet for the rest of the ride.

  At my locker, I pulled out my books while Michael crammed for a History test.

  “I can never keep the order of the British monarchs in line,” he was complaining to me, when abruptly I felt a change in the air around us.

  “Michael.” I knew the voice, and it seemed my nightmare was suddenly upon us. Nell stood behind me, turned to face Michael. She was wearing jeans that hugged her body, and a light black shirt. Her hair fell straight down her back, and her odd blue eyes were icily livid.

  Michael didn’t move from where he leaned against the lockers next to mine. “Nell,” he returned, gazing at her levelly.

  “I was very disturbed last night when I spoke to some of my friends.” Nell kept her own voice modulated, even as her face clearly displayed anger. “Apparently you were harassing one of them.”

  Michael made a show of innocence and ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about Amber,” Nell all but hissed. “You cornered her in the library yesterday and intimated some not very pleasant things about me.”

  “I did talk with Amber yesterday in the library, but what we said really had little to do with you. I’ve known Amber for as long as you have, remember. And maybe my memory of the past is even a little clearer than Amber’s.”

  Nell regarded him steadily for a moment. “What happened in elementary school was a long time ago, Michael. And I wouldn’t expect you to understand the female mind and how it works. Amber and I are past all that, and we’re friends now. Would you take that away from her?” For the first time, Nell shifted her gaze to me. “Is this a way to strike back at me for what your—your girlfriend—” she snarled the word, “—imagines I’ve done to her? What’s the matter, Tasmyn, can’t you fight your own battles?”

  Up to this point, Michael hadn’t moved from his relaxed position. Now he stood up and moved closer to me, so that he towered over Nell.

  “Leave Tasmyn alone, Nell,” he instructed tightly. “I don’t know why you’re threatened that I talked with Amber yesterday, but Tas didn’t have anything to do with it. And as for fighting her own battles, if I really thought that, do you think I would have let you get away with half of what you have? Tasmyn is very capable of standing up for herself.”

  Nell’s withering eyes swept over both of us. “As long we understand each other. Stay away from my friends.” She pinned me with her glare. “All of them. And mind your own business.” She turned and disappeared into the crowd moving on the sidewalk.

  I slowly closed my locker and looked at Michael with wide eyes. “What was that?” I asked in a whisper.

  He gave me a half-smile and took my hand as we began walking. “I think we rattled some cages yesterday. Nell is feeling just a tad insecure, I’d say.”

  I shivered. “Is that it? It felt more like an attack than a defensive move.”

  We stopped at the corner, where I had to turn toward French and Michael had to cross the grass to his classroom. He dropped my hand and stroked my hair back away from my face.

  “Remember the most dangerous creature is a cornered animal. Give Nell lots of room today, okay?” When I opened my mouth, possibly to protest, he put a finger on my lips. “I know you can take care of yourself. But I’ll feel better if I also know you’re not going to be in any form of danger this morning. I’m not sure anymore what Nell is or isn’t capable of doing, and I don’t really feel like putting it to the test today.” He replaced his finger with his lips and lightly brushed a kiss onto my mouth. “See you at lunch.”

  A light rain began to fall about mid-morning, so I knew that we would be eating inside today. Because I felt I needed a little relief from the whole Nell and Amber drama, I made a point of inviting Cara to eat lunch with us. We had just a minute to talk at the end of class, since I just barely made it into my seat before the first bell rang and Madame taught right up to the closing bell. Cara brightened at my invitation and promised to see me in the cafeteria.

  Nell had returned to her ignoring-me mode in Chemistry. Her back was stiff and straight, and her head never turned. Ms. Lacusta was lecturing again, and although I noticed her eyes rest curiously on me as well as on Nell several times, she didn’t directly address me at all. I was relieved. I had the sense that when Nell warned me away from all of her friends, she had been including our Chemistry teacher. A little weird, but I was beginning to realize that was the way Nell’s mind worked.

  When I arrived at lunch, slightly breathless from rushing, I found Michael sitting at our regular table, with the requisite two trays overflowing with food. Everyone else was already there, too, including Cara, who was sitting across from Michael. When she saw me, she gave a wave and then, oddly, flushed a little.

  Senses prickling, I slid onto the bench next to Michael. He smiled his greeting, leaning in to kiss my cheek and whisper in my ear. “This morning go okay?”

  I smiled in return and nodded. “Uneventful.” I turned to Cara
. “I’m glad to see you found the table! I always get to lunch later than everybody else. Mrs. Cook keeps us until the bitter end.”

  Cara nodded, and I could feel something coming from her—was that relief? I wasn’t sure. “I have her in the afternoon for English, in seventh period, and we’re always the last class out. She packs a lot in each day, though.” She took a bite of the hamburger on her tray.

  That reminded me of my own lunch. “So what are you forcing down my throat today?” I asked Michael in mock resignation.

  He spread his hands over the trays. “Anything you like. Take your pick. And if you eat all this, I can always get more.”

  I laughed. “As if! You’re just trying to cover up your own massive appetite. I’ll take some pizza, thanks.”

  He handed the slice to me and also pushed over a bowl of salad. “Here’s your rabbit food, too.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled up at him again. It was still such a new experience to have someone other than my parents who knew me, who cared about my wants and needs. I liked it.

  Further down the table, Anne leaned back to see me around Michael. “Hey, Tasmyn. I keep meaning to ask you. Are you and Michael going to the Harvest Moon Dance?”

  Taken completely by surprise, I wasn’t sure what to say. Michael hadn’t asked me, but I hadn’t thought about it either. I’d heard about it from Anne, who was on the committee planning the dance, and I had certainly seen the posters advertising it that lined the outdoor hallways and the cafeteria.

  I was interested to notice a look that I couldn’t read in Anne’s eyes. It almost felt like a warning, and in the low buzz that occupied my head nearly constantly these days, I caught a few words: watch out… wouldn’t trust that Cara too far… she seemed too chummy with Michael… I frowned, looking more intently at Anne and wondering exactly what had made her so suspicious.

  Michael glanced over at Anne but kept eating his fries. “We haven’t talked about it yet,” he answered her. Then he smiled at me directly and added, “But thanks for reminding me. I’d better ask her before someone else beats me to the punch.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, because they’re lined up around the corner to ask me.”

  He regarded me seriously. “You really have no idea. I am the only one standing between you and the possibility of a stampede of boys who’d happily take you to the dance.”

  “Well, thanks for putting yourself at risk for me,” I said dryly.

  I saw that Anne was watching Cara curiously during this exchange, and though I wondered what she saw, I purposely redirected my inner ear to Michael. I didn’t want to deliberately invade Anne’s private thoughts, and I was also reluctant to think too badly of Cara. Maybe Anne was jumping to conclusions. Cara had looked a little uncomfortable when she first spotted me, but maybe she had just felt funny that I had seen her laughing with Michael before I sat down. I didn’t worry about Michael at all; my trust in him was complete. And while Cara hadn’t given me any legitimate cause for concern, I appreciated Anne looking out for me.

  As lunch neared its end, Michael and I headed out to our lockers as usual. I told Cara I’d see her in History, and she nodded, smiling.

  In the outside corridor, Michael took my hand and I smiled up at him as we walked.

  “Will you always want me?” I asked him suddenly.

  The question didn’t seem to startle him. “Always,” he answered without hesitation. “From now into eternity. I promise.”

  “But how do you know?” I persisted.

  This time he did consider. “I don’t know how I know, but I do know. Maybe the whys and the hows aren’t as important as just the knowing.”

  I thought about this, and then nodded in agreement. “Okay, I guess I can accept that.”

  “Good.” Michael glanced up and down the sidewalk, which was still deserted, and then abruptly stopped walked and swung me around, pulling me close and dropping his hands to my back. We were both careful about over the top displays of affection in school; neither of us liked making a spectacle. But no one was near us now.

  “So,” he said softly, looking down into my eyes. “What about you? Will you always want me?”

  “Forever,” I promised.

  “Then,” he continued, “will you go with me to the Harvest Moon Dance?”

  I made a face. “Do we have to go?”

  “Why wouldn’t we? Are you opposed to music, autumnal decorations and seeing my cool dance moves?”

  I laughed at that, resting my forehead on his chest. “Not opposed to any of that. But I’ve never been to a dance. I have no idea what to expect, and I know my parents will make a huge deal out of it.”

  Michael’s hands stroked my hair down my back. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll dress up, dance a little and then we can go home. Okay?”

  I sighed in martyrdom. “I guess so.” Michael laughed at me, and then tilted my head up so he could see my eyes again.

  “Remember,” he breathed. “Always.”

  The rest of the week passed quickly and quietly. Nell continued her trend of pretending that I didn’t exist. Although we had a lab in Chemistry at the end of the week, Liza managed to get through it with a minimum of interaction with me. Ms. Lacusta didn’t mention her invitation to the chemistry club, and I was very relieved.

  Cara continued to eat lunch with us. I didn’t see anything odd about the way she reacted to Michael, and this too was a relief. She began to chat with the others who sat at our table, and I thought I noticed that Dan Hillinger, one of Michael’s friends, seemed to particularly like her. I wondered if he would ask her to the upcoming dance. Michael had told me that through high school, the six of them usually went to the formal dances in a group, although now and then one of them would include an outside date.

  I knew that Brea was toying with the idea of inviting a boy from my class to be her date. She thought he liked her, but he didn’t seem to have the nerve to actually ask her out. Brea was so much the opposite of Anne that it was sometimes hard to believe that they had been best friends for years. Brea was tall and athletic, and although she might have been considered striking, she was not exactly pretty. She eschewed any makeup or hair fussing, which annoyed Anne to no end. I knew that Anne and I had more in common when it came to primping and cosmetics, but Brea didn’t seem threatened by me at all. While we didn’t have the instant rapport that I’d felt with Anne, Brea was kind to me, pleasant to talk with, and very secure with her role in the group around the lunch table.

  I had observed too that Jim Shuller seemed to rest his eyes on Anne more than on anyone else. I remembered her telling me that he had been the one to warn her about Nick, the loser who’d broken her heart last summer. I wondered idly if Jim had had a greater motivation than Anne realized for wanting her to stay away from Nick. It was tempting to listen to his mind for a bit in order to get Anne the inside scoop, but I knew meddling could be dangerous. I decided to watch only with my eyes and hope that Jim would act on his feelings toward Anne sooner rather than later.

  Craig Donalson was the quietest of the group. He was a football player, and Michael had told me with pride that Craig had won a scholarship to a Florida state school. Apparently, he was not only an athlete, but also an excellent scholar. He and I had had our longest conversation to date about Shakespeare; I was amazed that he knew the plays so well.

  It was mind boggling for me to realize that I actually had a small group of friends. Michael had definitely helped by introducing me to Anne and the others, but Cara I had found on my own. Or rather, she had found me, thanks to Nell. Irony abounded.

  We had come to the end of October, and the weather was still beautifully warm each day. The daily afternoon thunderstorms that I had come to expect had disappeared. I missed the changing of the leaves and the chilly evenings that were common in the north this time of year, but I knew I wouldn’t miss the long winters.

  I broke the news of the Harvest Moon Dance to my mother after school on Fr
iday. Michael had dropped me off on the way to work, with the promise to pick me up before lunch the next day for our date at the nursery.

  My mom was sitting at the kitchen table having iced tea and flipping through the mail. She had been preoccupied lately with one of her projects; it was a more involved children’s book, with lots of intricate illustrations. She loved the work, but sometimes she seemed to be in another world.

  “So…” I cleared my throat as I wandered into the room. “Ummm… there’s a dance at school, some kind of harvest dance, I guess, and Michael asked me to go with him.”

  My mother shook off her absent look immediately. “A dance? Like a real, dressy dance?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I mumbled, hoping against hope that she wasn’t going to let her excitement get too out of hand.

  “Oh sweetie!!” My hopes were dashed as her voice rose several octaves. “That’s wonderful! We’ll have to go shopping for a dress and shoes… I haven’t found a good hair place yet, but maybe I can ask around... ”

  “Mom!” I needed to nip this in the bud. “Listen. We can get a dress and shoes, that’ll be fun, but no hair appointment, no big deal, okay? I want to keep this low key.”

  “Why?” The vibes of excitement and giddiness were still rolling off her, and I felt guilty once again for not being the daughter I could have been.

  “Because… just because. This is my first dance, and I’m looking forward to it, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not that big a deal.”

  She looked at me in exasperated confusion. “Every other dance, at every other school, I got the feeling you wanted to go. I always thought it was Daddy and me keeping you from getting involved.”