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come after me? The footsteps continued, and I darted a look over my shoulder.
    Nothing.
    I slowed down further, and the sound grew softer, barely audible. Too scared not to look, I stopped and spun around.
    The street was empty.
    I wiped the sweat from my forehead and forced myself to smile. Tattoo Kid must have really gotten to me. Now I was imagining that I was being followed. How ridiculous was that?
    I started walking, my gaze darting back and forth across the street. When I heard a noise again, I yelled, “Who’s there?”
    A woman opened the front door of a tiny bungalow with peeling yellow paint. She looked up and down the block and then stared at me, obviously thinking I must be crazy, yelling at myself like that. I laughed nervously and started running.
    A few houses down, a fat orange-and-white tabby cat padded down a driveway to sit in the middle of the sidewalk. It sat there, licking one paw and staring at me.
    I stuck out my tongue and picked up the pace. This time I didn’t stop until I got home.

A WEEK later, as Grandma and I pulled into the Delcroix Academy parking lot, I was filled with confidence and optimism about the year to come. I emerged from the car ready for the first day of school, smiling at everyone I saw, knowing I would be a success at anything I tried.…
    Ha! Actually, as I unbuckled my seat belt and prepared to haul myself out of our old Volvo station wagon, I decided that agreeing to go to Delcroix was the worst decision I had ever made.
    Because the more I’d thought about crashing that car, the worse I felt. They used the accident on the news that night as an excuse to talk about the importance of seat belts, and to show gory pictures of what can happen if you aren’t properly buckled. They showed pictures of one guy who’d hit his head on the windshield and died two days later from a brain injury. I could have done that. Killed someone.
    I couldn’t blend in at Delcroix. I crashed cars on a whim and dropped branches on kids’ heads. Within a week of starting school I’d probably send an anvil crashing down on some Delcroix genius and end up the subject of a top-secret government investigation.
    â€œI’m so proud of you, Dancia, for deciding to give Delcroix a try. I’m sure it seems a little intimidating now, but I know you’re going to love it here.” Grandma beamed at me, happiness radiating from her watery eyes.
    I mustered a half smile. “Yeah, right. Well, I guess I’ll see you on Friday.” I leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek, and then jumped out of the car before she could say anything else.
    I walked around to the back of the Volvo and whacked the trunk panel right next to the latch three times, hard, so the door would open. When it finally did, I scooted my hideous, second-hand silver-and-black trunk back and forth until I could haul it out and let it fall to the ground with a thud. They said we were each allowed to bring one trunkful of stuff, and that it would be collected from the parking lot and taken to our room while we were at orientation.
    With my belongings settled, I took a look around. Rows of parking spaces lined the narrow lot. A lone oak tree sat at one end, about twenty feet outside the edge of the iron fence that encircled the bright green, perfectly manicured Delcroix grass. The tree had spreading, scraggly branches and an uneven crown. On one side, the dark green leaves dipped low enough to touch, while on the other, the stump of a branch fifteen feet high sprouted thick bunches of new twigs.
    The uneven branches were soothing, for some reason, and the tree looked almost big enough to hide behind.
    Always good to know you’ve got options.
    I stood for a minute looking at Grandma through the window. She waved and then slipped on the enormous plastic sunglasses she wore over her regular glasses. She was ready for a morning of mall walking in matching blue-and-white velour and