down beside her. “You must be Katelyn McBride.”
She nodded tightly. First impressions were everything. She didn’t want to come off as a standoffish bitch, but the full realization of what was happening to her was crashing down on her. Her mother was dead . And Katelyn was thousands of miles away from her grave, and everything else she cared about.
“Class, we have a new student who just transferred from California,” said a man at the front of the room. He had wheat-colored hair shot through with silver, and blue-gray eyes beneath heavy brows. He was wearing khaki trousers and a white button-down shirt. “Katelyn, why don’t you stand up and tell us a little bit about yourself.”
She stood up slowly, trying to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. I don’t belong here , she wanted to tell him. There’s been a terrible mistake .
She took a deep breath. “I’m Kate—” She hesitated. Then she raised her chin and said, “Kat McBride, from L.A. I came to live with my grandfather; my mother …”
Her voice gave out. It didn’t matter. They all knew anyway. That was what Trick had told her.
“Kat. Okay,” Mr. Henderson said mildly, making a note on a piece of paper.
She wasn’t sure why, but somehow it seemed like it would be easier to go by the nickname Trick had given her than to hear one more stranger call her by her real name.
“We’ll get you a book,” Mr. Henderson said.
She nodded and he turned to address the rest of the class. “Okay. Today we’re going to start a new project. I want you all to become investigative historians, and to that end, I’m going to pair you up. Now that Kat’s here, we have an even number.” He smiled at her as if she’d done him a personal favor by moving to Wolf Springs.
Katelyn winced. A project partner on her first day.
Mr. Henderson began running through the list of names, and chairs squealed as everyone started to move around the room, reorganizing themselves. Some surreptitious texting went on. A few got down to business. Katelyn tried to remember names but it was too much to ask. Just sitting there was too much to ask. She tried not to fall apart.
Finally he said, “Cordelia, how about you partner with Kat?”
Kat, that’s me , she thought, blinking. Cordelia. Which one’s Cordelia?
A tall, slender girl with shoulder-length auburn hair, dark blue eyes, and perfect movie-star looks stood, organized her belongings, and flashed her a kind smile. Katelyn had often been told she was pretty, but next to this girl she felt like a dog.
The girl grabbed her bag and made her way over to Katelyn, holding out her hand. “Hi, Kat. I’m Cordelia Fenner,” she said.
Katelyn ground out a strangled “hi” and took her hand. She wasn’t used to shaking hands with people her own age—maybe it was an Arkansas thing—and she grimaced slightly at the strong grip of the other girl. She wasn’t sure if Cordelia noticed her awkwardness, but the other girl broke away quickly.
“So, welcome to Wolf Springs,” Cordelia said brightly, sitting down. She flicked her glance over Katelyn, checking out her clothes, hair, and shoes. Normally when girls did that, there was an underlying layer of cattiness, of competition. Not so with Cordelia. It felt more like the other girl was taking her measure, trying to understand her instead of judge her. The really beautiful girls back home were never that way. Staring at the other girl, Katelyn couldn’t decide whether Cordelia was just that confident in her own beauty or completely oblivious to it. Either way it was a nice change from what she was used to.
“Thanks,” Katelyn said, warming quickly.
Cordelia cocked her head, silky wisps of red hair brushing a flawless porcelain complexion. “Who do you run with?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry.” Cordelia rolled her eyes at herself. “I mean, who do you hang out with? You know—popular crowd, drama class, chess club, dropouts?”
The question was so direct
She nodded tightly. First impressions were everything. She didn’t want to come off as a standoffish bitch, but the full realization of what was happening to her was crashing down on her. Her mother was dead . And Katelyn was thousands of miles away from her grave, and everything else she cared about.
“Class, we have a new student who just transferred from California,” said a man at the front of the room. He had wheat-colored hair shot through with silver, and blue-gray eyes beneath heavy brows. He was wearing khaki trousers and a white button-down shirt. “Katelyn, why don’t you stand up and tell us a little bit about yourself.”
She stood up slowly, trying to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. I don’t belong here , she wanted to tell him. There’s been a terrible mistake .
She took a deep breath. “I’m Kate—” She hesitated. Then she raised her chin and said, “Kat McBride, from L.A. I came to live with my grandfather; my mother …”
Her voice gave out. It didn’t matter. They all knew anyway. That was what Trick had told her.
“Kat. Okay,” Mr. Henderson said mildly, making a note on a piece of paper.
She wasn’t sure why, but somehow it seemed like it would be easier to go by the nickname Trick had given her than to hear one more stranger call her by her real name.
“We’ll get you a book,” Mr. Henderson said.
She nodded and he turned to address the rest of the class. “Okay. Today we’re going to start a new project. I want you all to become investigative historians, and to that end, I’m going to pair you up. Now that Kat’s here, we have an even number.” He smiled at her as if she’d done him a personal favor by moving to Wolf Springs.
Katelyn winced. A project partner on her first day.
Mr. Henderson began running through the list of names, and chairs squealed as everyone started to move around the room, reorganizing themselves. Some surreptitious texting went on. A few got down to business. Katelyn tried to remember names but it was too much to ask. Just sitting there was too much to ask. She tried not to fall apart.
Finally he said, “Cordelia, how about you partner with Kat?”
Kat, that’s me , she thought, blinking. Cordelia. Which one’s Cordelia?
A tall, slender girl with shoulder-length auburn hair, dark blue eyes, and perfect movie-star looks stood, organized her belongings, and flashed her a kind smile. Katelyn had often been told she was pretty, but next to this girl she felt like a dog.
The girl grabbed her bag and made her way over to Katelyn, holding out her hand. “Hi, Kat. I’m Cordelia Fenner,” she said.
Katelyn ground out a strangled “hi” and took her hand. She wasn’t used to shaking hands with people her own age—maybe it was an Arkansas thing—and she grimaced slightly at the strong grip of the other girl. She wasn’t sure if Cordelia noticed her awkwardness, but the other girl broke away quickly.
“So, welcome to Wolf Springs,” Cordelia said brightly, sitting down. She flicked her glance over Katelyn, checking out her clothes, hair, and shoes. Normally when girls did that, there was an underlying layer of cattiness, of competition. Not so with Cordelia. It felt more like the other girl was taking her measure, trying to understand her instead of judge her. The really beautiful girls back home were never that way. Staring at the other girl, Katelyn couldn’t decide whether Cordelia was just that confident in her own beauty or completely oblivious to it. Either way it was a nice change from what she was used to.
“Thanks,” Katelyn said, warming quickly.
Cordelia cocked her head, silky wisps of red hair brushing a flawless porcelain complexion. “Who do you run with?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry.” Cordelia rolled her eyes at herself. “I mean, who do you hang out with? You know—popular crowd, drama class, chess club, dropouts?”
The question was so direct
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