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the girl than he was willing to admit. “She’s fifteen! Besides, she’s not… She’s…”
    “A freak show?” I finished for him, repeating his own words.
    “Well, yeah,” Garrett said.
    “What does that even mean, freak show ?” I asked.
    “I don’t know,” Garrett said, and it was obvious he was lying. It was clear that he thought both Calvin and I were freak shows , too, and he was nervous about insulting us—which might’ve been a first for him. “I guess it’s because, she’s, you know, all punk and emo? First her hair’s green and then it’s purple. And she wears these weird sunglasses, and God, the music she listens to.” He made a face like he’d just tasted bad milk. “It’s bad. Like, screaming angry-girl rock. And…” He shook his head.
    “And what?” Calvin pushed. There was definitely something Garrett wasn’t telling us.
    “Well—she’s creepy. Like, instead of watching TV and stuff like normal people do, she sits around with her e-reader all day and actually uses it to read instead of play games. Who does that? And then, even the books she chooses are weird! Like, a few weeks ago, she and Rochelle were over at the house, I was on my way to take a piss, and before I got to the bathroom, I read a couple lines over her shoulder, just to see what the hell. And she was deep into this story about a beating heart under the floorboards. How spooky is that ?”
    So the girl liked to read Poe and dye her hair different colors. Jilly actually sounded way cooler than Garrett would ever be—in fact, I already really liked the girl. But Garrett was still clearly leaving information out.
    “All right, doooode.” I knew Cal had started to say douche but then changed it last minute to dude , in an attempt to be diplomatic. “Seriously. It’s time to get to the part that you really want to tell us about.”
    Garrett sighed deeply. “See, I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
    Who would’ve believed it? Garrett McDouche Hathaway was reluctant to break a promise. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
    “If she’s really missing,” I told him as Calvin took the ramp for Harrisburg. We were almost out of time—the Sav’A’Buck was right off the exit. “Whatever this secret is might help us find her.”
    “Are you going to help me?” Garrett said eagerly, leaning forward in his seat at my inadvertent us . “You know. Find her? Jilly? Because I heard that you helped find that dead girl, Tasha.”
    “Her name is Sasha,” I said wearily. “And she wasn’t dead.”
    “And we didn’t find her,” Cal interjected as he braked to a stop at the end of the exit ramp. “She escaped her kidnapper and called Skylar’s cell phone for help. She hid until we picked her up and brought her back home.” He was sticking to our cover story—what we’d told everyone, my mom and the police included—about what had happened. Because We used Sky’s Greater-Than psychic homing superpowers to find Sasha, and then risked our lives going into battle against a giant, bat-wielding beast of a psycho-guard in order to free her and twenty other little girls wouldn’t fly, even though it was the truth.
    “Yeah, well,” Garrett said, “I also heard that Sasha ”—he was careful to get her name right this time—“was kinda freaky, too. Like, um, Jilly freaky.”
    I shot another look at Calvin. Uh-oh.
    “Because that day?” Garrett continued. “After I came back from the bathroom? I saw something deeply freaky.”
    My stomach did a somersault. I had a serious idea about where this was going.
    “Jilly was still sitting on the couch, reading that creepy-ass story. Except, I’d left the football game on TV. She’d been complaining about how it was bugging her, it was super-distracting, whatever. And I told her to deal with it, since it’s my house and stuff, and anyway, everything pisses her off. She was going all bitch-mode on me about how I could at least be considerate enough to turn the