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from. He wondered if the blond boy who smelled like bug spray would be at school tomorrow. It was possible that they might even be in the same classes. If he could get up the nerve, Eddie would have another chance to ask for his help. As he went downstairs for dinner, he decided that’s what he would do.

5
    The first day of school, Eddie kept embarrassing himself.
    During homeroom, Ms. Phelps made him introduce himself. As he’d already learned, new kids were rare to Gatesweed. Everyone already seemed to know each other. Eddie was so nervous and spoke so quietly, Ms. Phelps forced him to repeat everything he said. Twice! His face burned when his new classmates rolled their eyes at him.
    In the cafeteria line, Eddie meant to ask the lunch lady for a tuna melt, but he stammered when he ordered and accidentally called it a
tuba
melt. Everyone behind him started laughing; one boy made farting noises.
    Finally, after lunch, he bumped into a girl, knocking her book bag off her shoulder. He’d been thinking about the code and didn’t see her coming around the corner. “I’m so sorry!” said Eddie, helping pick up the bag. He halfexpected her to start complaining, but instead she barely looked at him.
    “It’s fine. I can get it,” said the girl.
    She wore a faded black T-shirt, worn-out black jeans, and boots that looked as if they’d been boiled. Her stringy hair hung down either side of her face, tucked behind her big ears. Her skin was pale, but her eyes were dark circles. She looked like a character he imagined would live in a Nathaniel Olmstead book. He realized he was staring, and he felt his face turning red. But before he could introduce himself, the girl blinked at him, fixed her bag, and walked briskly away.
    “Nice one,” said someone from across the hallway.
    When Eddie turned, he saw the blond boy from the bookstore standing near Eddie’s locker with his arms folded across his chest. He wore a navy blue polo shirt and dark jeans; he no longer smelled like bug spray. Eddie felt his stomach clench. Last night, he’d imagined that the boy would be here at school, but after yesterday, Eddie thought he would have to track him down to ask for his help. Now he felt unprepared.
    “You might want to stay away from her,” said the boy.
    “Who—who is she?” said Eddie as he put away the textbooks he’d been given that morning.
    “Freaky Maggie Ringer. She lives up near the Olmstead estate.”
    Eddie blushed. “Why do you think she’s a freak?”
    “Look at her.”
    “Because she dresses in black?”
    “Well … yeah. And she doesn’t have any friends.”
    Eddie knew what that felt like. “That doesn’t mean she’s a freak.”
    “If you say so,” said the boy. He tugged at his belt loop anxiously. After a moment, he said, “I’m Harris. Harris May. From the bookstore yesterday?”
    “Uh, yeah, I remember you,” said Eddie. “I’m Eddie.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me you lived here?” said Harris. “In Gatesweed,” he added.
    “I didn’t really have time,” said Eddie. “You sorta took off.”
    Harris blushed. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I never saw you before. Everyone knows everyone else in this town, but sometimes weird people pass through. … I thought you were—”
    “One of them?” said Eddie. “Gee, thanks.”
    Harris laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just … Wally was watching you.”
    “Wally?” said Eddie.
    “The one cop this town can afford to keep on its force,” said Harris. “He doesn’t like Olmstead hunters.” “Olmstead hunters?”
    “Fans. They’re my mom’s biggest customers. Nobody else ever really comes to Gatesweed. When you mentioned the Olmstead Curse stuff …” He sighed. “Wally had stopped by in the morning, before you showed up. He spent, like, an hourinterrogating me about the new graffiti in the park. He thinks
I
had something to do with it.”
    “Did you?”
    Harris smirked. “No,” he said simply. “It’s actually