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look back a t him from the window. “That's all you have to say? I was stuck with a creepy boy who turns out to be a psycho boy and that's it?”
    Jonathan shrugs. “I don't think he sounds psychotic at all. Weird? Definitely. But it's not like he came after you with a cha insaw.”
    “ Give him a few days.”
    He raises an eyebrow at me and continues. “Lucas obviously knows some things that are strange for him to know. But before you jump to any conclusions, you should find out how he knows them. And then find out why.” He takes a deep breath, seeming inexplicably disappointed. “Who knows? Maybe it's a totally innocent reason.”
    Something about the way Jonathan says this tells me that he doesn't believe that at all. In any case, we quit talking about it and I look back out the window , watching trees and houses fly by. I'm kind of glad he didn't bring up everything else I'd told him. One thing at a time.
    We pass the sign that welcomes us into my neighborhood. Someone standing next to the sign raises a hand in greeting. I look back at t he person, but I can't see him anymore. “Did you see who that was?”
    “ Who?” He asks me this distractedly.
    “ Um, not sure. Someone was standing by the sign back there. He did a still-wave thing.” Jonathan gives me a quizzical look, so I show him.
    “ What was h e wearing?”
    “ Black. That's all I saw.” Of course, at this moment the figure from Salem canyon pops into my head. No way. Not the same thing. I shove it out of my head and say nothing. There's no need for this night to get any weirder.
     
     
     
    Morning comes, but it's dark. I open my eyes and feel – rested. I stretch contentedly. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in so long. The wind has picked up and from my bed I can hear hail hitting the windows and roof with loud pings.
    “ About time, storm. We've been wait ing,” I grumble and get up. Sure enough, when I look out the window dark clouds are swirling in the sky and a couple massacred tree branches roll down the street. The sounds of the storm make me shudder. I've never understood my aversion to storms. Must be some childhood psychological-something.
    Shaking it off, I hum and walk to the bathroom to take a shower. When I flip the switch, however, no juice. An expletive here, an expletive there, and then I'm running down the stairs for the breaker box. Jonathan s teps right in front of me, interrupting my most likely futile mission.
    “ Woah!” I yell, and slide down the last two steps. Luckily I grab the banister before any permanent damage can occur.
    “ WTF, Jonathan? Spooky much?” I glare at him, but secretly I'm tha nkful to not be alone. I'd forgotten he was here.
    “ Sorry, Abby.”
    I brush past him and make my way down the basement stairs. I say this is a futile mission because I am sure the storm knocked down a power line instead of a breaker just tripping, but one can hope. It's pitch dark down here. I'll be the first one to admit that I don't like the dark, but a dark enclosed space is even worse. So pretty much I hate unlit basements. As I reach the last step I pause and clear my throat.
    “ Jonathan?”
    “ Yes?” He's righ t behind me and, startled, I jump the rest of the way into the basement.
    “ Je sus, ” I snap, but again I'm glad to not be alone. I reach blindly out for the breaker box, feeling along the walls until my hand feels metal. Then I about smack myself in the foreh ead. “I have no light.”
    A blue light glows out of nowhere. “Here.” Jonathan shines his Blackberry in my direction.
    As I had suspected, when I open the box all the breakers are flipped the right way. “Well, that blows.”
    We maneuver back through the darkne ss and head upstairs to eat breakfast. I get a couple texts from people – those who have the blessing of working electricity – celebrating the TV's announcement that school has been closed.
    “ No school?” Jonathan asks when I smile. I give him a thumbs up i n