it caught her off guard. “I—I haven’t decided yet.”
A smile flitted across Cordelia’s face. “It’s nice to have a choice. Not everyone does. Okay. Let’s make Mr. Henderson happy.”
Katelyn nodded, wishing she had thought to ask Cordelia what group she ran with, though it was easy to guess that whichever it was, she was popular.
“Mr. Henderson used to be an archeologist. He moved here a couple of years ago,” Cordelia added. “So that makes him just about as new as you.”
Katelyn let her confusion show. “Two years ? I’ve only been here four days.”
“It’s different here. We’ve had two newcomers in less than a century—it’s a lot of change for folks around here.”
“Plus there’s that Inner Wolf guy,” Katelyn said.
Cordelia grimaced. “Don’t even get me started on him . Anyway, Mr. Henderson is this big-city guy who thinks outside the box, and you are lucky to be in here, because Mrs. Herbold reads aloud from the textbook. People have been known to jump out the window to end their torment.”
“All right, people,” Mr. Henderson said, handing a stack of papers to a girl in the front row. “What I want you to do is take some aspect of local history and dig a little deeper. A legend like the ones you-all are so fond of out here, a story that’s been passed down in your family, a mystery, something cool.”
Cordelia grinned at Katelyn, and Katelyn returned an answering smile. Apparently they had both had “cool” teachers before.
“Put on your detective hat and find out where your tall tale or your family story came from.” He mimicked pulling on a hat and kept talking. “You have until October twenty-eighth to work on this. A lot of time. Here’s the breakdown.”
The blond guy who’d first identified her as the new girl passed a stack of papers to Katelyn over his shoulder. She took one before handing them to Cordelia and skimmed it. Historical sites. Haunts. Legends. Ballads. The class started buzzing as the newly paired investigative historians got down to the business of picking a topic.
“Legends sounds cool,” Katelyn said.
“Oh. Uh-huh,” Cordelia said, obviously forcing enthusiasm. “There’s all kinds of backwoods stories. About haints. Ghosts, I mean.” Cordelia tapped the paper with her pencil. “I know lots of them. My family’s been here for generations.”
Katelyn was amazed. She couldn’t imagine anyone living in Wolf Springs for generations. It was so isolated.
“Ghosts would be interesting,” Katelyn said.
The blond guy raised his hand. Mr. Henderson acknowledged him with a nod.
“What about Haley?” he asked.
The room fell silent. Mr. Henderson’s expression went carefully neutral.
“What about Haley, Beau?” the teacher asked.
“Well, no one’s sure about how she died,” the guy—Beau—said. “So we could investigate that.”
“Dude, that is not cool.” A tall guy in Katelyn and Cordelia’s row half stood. “Haley’s not a project .”
“Yeah,” a girl in a white sweater said, glaring in Beau’s direction.
“Haley went here,” Cordelia whispered to Katelyn. She had gone deathly pale. “She … died a couple of weeks ago.”
“Trick told me,” Katelyn whispered back.
Cordelia looked startled. “You know Trick Sokolov?”
Katelyn tried to decipher Cordelia’s tone of voice. It didn’t sound as if she liked Trick much, but Katelyn couldn’t tell for sure. Maybe because of the “court” thing?
The girl in the white sweater spoke again. “And besides, we already know how she …” Her voice faltered. “… what happened.”
Beau shook his head. “But my grandma said—”
Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. “I think we’ll leave Haley out of this,” he declared; then he surveyed the class thoughtfully before he spoke again. “I know you miss Haley. Her passing was a shock to all of us. And let me remind you all to be very careful in and around the woods.”
“Right. Like he knows
A smile flitted across Cordelia’s face. “It’s nice to have a choice. Not everyone does. Okay. Let’s make Mr. Henderson happy.”
Katelyn nodded, wishing she had thought to ask Cordelia what group she ran with, though it was easy to guess that whichever it was, she was popular.
“Mr. Henderson used to be an archeologist. He moved here a couple of years ago,” Cordelia added. “So that makes him just about as new as you.”
Katelyn let her confusion show. “Two years ? I’ve only been here four days.”
“It’s different here. We’ve had two newcomers in less than a century—it’s a lot of change for folks around here.”
“Plus there’s that Inner Wolf guy,” Katelyn said.
Cordelia grimaced. “Don’t even get me started on him . Anyway, Mr. Henderson is this big-city guy who thinks outside the box, and you are lucky to be in here, because Mrs. Herbold reads aloud from the textbook. People have been known to jump out the window to end their torment.”
“All right, people,” Mr. Henderson said, handing a stack of papers to a girl in the front row. “What I want you to do is take some aspect of local history and dig a little deeper. A legend like the ones you-all are so fond of out here, a story that’s been passed down in your family, a mystery, something cool.”
Cordelia grinned at Katelyn, and Katelyn returned an answering smile. Apparently they had both had “cool” teachers before.
“Put on your detective hat and find out where your tall tale or your family story came from.” He mimicked pulling on a hat and kept talking. “You have until October twenty-eighth to work on this. A lot of time. Here’s the breakdown.”
The blond guy who’d first identified her as the new girl passed a stack of papers to Katelyn over his shoulder. She took one before handing them to Cordelia and skimmed it. Historical sites. Haunts. Legends. Ballads. The class started buzzing as the newly paired investigative historians got down to the business of picking a topic.
“Legends sounds cool,” Katelyn said.
“Oh. Uh-huh,” Cordelia said, obviously forcing enthusiasm. “There’s all kinds of backwoods stories. About haints. Ghosts, I mean.” Cordelia tapped the paper with her pencil. “I know lots of them. My family’s been here for generations.”
Katelyn was amazed. She couldn’t imagine anyone living in Wolf Springs for generations. It was so isolated.
“Ghosts would be interesting,” Katelyn said.
The blond guy raised his hand. Mr. Henderson acknowledged him with a nod.
“What about Haley?” he asked.
The room fell silent. Mr. Henderson’s expression went carefully neutral.
“What about Haley, Beau?” the teacher asked.
“Well, no one’s sure about how she died,” the guy—Beau—said. “So we could investigate that.”
“Dude, that is not cool.” A tall guy in Katelyn and Cordelia’s row half stood. “Haley’s not a project .”
“Yeah,” a girl in a white sweater said, glaring in Beau’s direction.
“Haley went here,” Cordelia whispered to Katelyn. She had gone deathly pale. “She … died a couple of weeks ago.”
“Trick told me,” Katelyn whispered back.
Cordelia looked startled. “You know Trick Sokolov?”
Katelyn tried to decipher Cordelia’s tone of voice. It didn’t sound as if she liked Trick much, but Katelyn couldn’t tell for sure. Maybe because of the “court” thing?
The girl in the white sweater spoke again. “And besides, we already know how she …” Her voice faltered. “… what happened.”
Beau shook his head. “But my grandma said—”
Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. “I think we’ll leave Haley out of this,” he declared; then he surveyed the class thoughtfully before he spoke again. “I know you miss Haley. Her passing was a shock to all of us. And let me remind you all to be very careful in and around the woods.”
“Right. Like he knows
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