Read White is for Magic for Free Online Page B

"Look." I turn the monitor in his direction.
    "You know the Hangman closes at eleven, don't you?" he says.
    I feel the corners of my mouth sag down even further. I had forgotten the cafe's hours since we hardly ever hang out here.
    "So, what does that mean?" Amber asks. "This guy wants to meet you after hours?"
    "Maybe it's Donovan's successor." Cory stabs at the air with an invisible knife. "Maybe he wants to take revenge."
    'And maybe you're, like, so immature," Amber says to him.
    "You just don't want to admit the inevitable," Cory says. "I think this campus is cursed."
    "Really?" Amber says.
    "Think about it. The Hangman Cafe alone . . ."
    "What about it?" Amber asks.
    "You know that's not really the name, don't you? So, why do you think people call it that?"
    "We know how the legend goes," Amber says. "We're not newbloods here, remember?"
    "It's because some girl hung herself in there, right?" Emma blots at her nose with the tissue.
    "Exactly," Cory says. His eyes are wide with excitement and his lips are practically frothing over from the sheer delight of this conversation. "Fifty years ago. When she didn't get the starring role in the school play. And then everything
     
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    that happened last year with Veronica, splattered on the French room floor--"
    "Shut up," I say, fighting the urge to block my ears.
    "Tell me," he says. "Is it true that when you found Drea, she was tied up in a porta-potty?"
    "Shut the hell up, geek boy," Amber hisses.
    "I think there's more to come," he says. "And when it does, I just hope I'm around to see it."
    Amber plucks the power cable from his computer, zapping away all the pretty pics.
    "You little witch," he says. "Lucky for you I save my work every three minutes."
    At that, Mr. Lecklider makes his way toward us, the heels of his shoes clicking against the linoleum floor. "Can I see what you're working on?"
    "Amber just pulled the plug," Cory says.
    "Well, that's a zero for all of you for today," Mr. Lecklider says. 'And I'll see you all back here at 2:30 to continue your work."
    "Oinkers," Amber says when Lecklider's out of earshot.
    Cory plugs the cable back in and resumes our project in silence. Even though the guy is an ultimate jerk, his comments about the whole Hillcrest hysteria are hardly out of the ordinary.
    After Veronica's death, gobs of kids were pulled out of here by their parents. In return, we got a major transfusion of newbloods, kids like Cory--"ghost groupies" as Amber likes to call them--
    intrigued by all the
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    negative press our school was getting, utterly delighted over the idea that the school might be haunted. And then some parents saw the major bailing of students as an opportunity for their beloved underachievers to get accepted.
    It's almost as if everyone's just waiting for something to happen.
    Everyone, including me.
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    eight
    When I get to the cafeteria, Drea, Amber, and PJ are already sitting in our usual spot by the soda machines. I set my tray on the table and peel open the spout of my chocolate milk. "So, what's up?"
    "Up?" Amber points toward the ceiling with her chopsticks.
    "Yeah," I say "What are you guys talking about?"
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    She plucks a chunk of potato from her salad and pokes it into her mouth. "You," she manages between chews.
    "What about me?"
    "The e-mail," Amber says. 'Are you going tonight?"
    I glance at Drea, who's focusing down at her plate of macaroni.
    "I say go," PJ says, pointing with a cheese doodle for emphasis. "We'll all be there to back you up."
    "Definitely," Amber says.
    "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this now." I gesture to Drea, hoping they get the picture.
    "What's with the silent treatment, Dray?" PJ asks. "You've been comatose-quiet since we got here."
    "Nothing," she says.
    "If it's nothing then why do you look as happy as a fried clam?" PJ asks.
    "Maybe I'm just sick of listening to you guys act like this is some stupid Sega game," she says.
    "It's not a game," Amber says. "It's a quest."
    'A quest for a killer."