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better than that. Post-dance parties were a big deal. “Will Ian’s parents be out of town? They’re always away, right?”
    “I heard that they’re going to be around,” Lauren said.
    “Plus we were just there last weekend,” Gabby said. “I mean, I love Ian’s house, but I’d also love a change of venue.” She paused. “What about your new goth friends, Em? Do they ever have parties?”
    She didn’t say it meanly, but Gabby’s message was clear: She’d noticed who Em had been spending more time with, and she didn’t like it.
    Em didn’t have time to think of a response. Just then the wholetable of girls was distracted by a french fry hitting their table, followed by some general hubbub. The boys had gotten into a shoving match and french fries were being used as weapons. For the second time in one lunch period Em was glad she and her friends sat on the other side of the cafeteria from the Sports Section.
    They watched as the boys got rowdier.
    “Can you believe we’re the same age as those primitives?” Fiona asked.
    They watched as a short, cute girl with dirty-blond hair—someone Em had never seen before—got blasted with a tray of spaghetti. They cringed, issuing a chorus of sympathy: “Ooooooh. Oh no!”
    Em ducked her head. She hated watching other people get embarrassed. It was almost worse than being humiliated herself.
    “Oh god, I know that girl,” Gabby said, wincing. “She’s new—I helped her find her bio class today. . . . I wonder—should I go, like, help her?”
    Lauren pointed. “I think she’s okay. Pierce gave her his sweatshirt!” They watched the new girl make a mad dash from the cafeteria.
    “What a terrible way to start at a new school,” Gabby said, turning back to the table.
    “Hey, Laur, you want the rest of this?” Em shoved her tray toward Lauren, who could never turn down pizza—it was one of their shared vices. “I guess I’m not too hungry today.”
    “You should eat, Em. You’re looking borderline rexy,” Gabby said, grabbing Em’s arm and holding it up as evidence. “Not to mention you’re an icicle. Are you getting sick? Do you want to borrow my sweater?”
    You’re an icicle. The expression called to mind the dagger-sharp icicles that pitched down around her last night as though they’d been aimed by dark angels.
    Just as she was about to make some snarky retort, she looked out the cafeteria window and saw JD and his friend Ned jogging across the parking lot, ducking their heads against the cold air. They were probably going to get a burrito from Chalupa’s, where they went at least weekly to gorge on guacamole and talk computer programming. He told her once, It’s safer to talk about computer programming around people who don’t speak English than around Ascension jocks.
    Her heart ached as last night’s interaction with JD came rushing back. Like their shredded childhood flag, the past was slashed. Destroyed. And there was no way for Em to piece it back together. In fact, there was a chance that last night she’d made things even worse.
    “Um, Em? Earth to Em?” Fiona was snapping her fingers lightly in front of Em’s face. “Are you even listening to me? I’m asking what you think about Mr. Landon. Do you think he’s coming back?”
    “Yeah, I’d think you of all people would be interested in thedisappearance of Ascension’s hottest book-nerd teacher,” Lauren said. “Didn’t you have him this year?”
    Em looked at them blankly for a second before nodding vaguely. “Yeah . . . the sub is meh. I’m bummed. I was looking forward to Mr. Landon’s reading list this semester.”
    She couldn’t think of much more to say. Honestly? She was thinking about those icicles and what it would feel like to have one stabbed into her heart.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Skylar was still glowing when she arrived at school the next morning. Her hair was pinned back from her face, and she knew her green sweater made her hazel eyes shine.