My whole body freezes as the bell rings and everyone rushes to be the first out of the room. A shadow falls over my desk and I look up to see Miss. Grong standing before me, her red nails pushing her glasses up. "Lumi. Times up," she says, not unkindly.

"Can I get more time?" I ask. It feels like there's sweat rolling down the back of my neck.

"I'm afraid you had to ask about that beforehand."

"But Miss. Grong-"

"I know you have been dealing with some stuff but I have rules that need to be followed."

I hang my head in shame. I shouldn't have stared at the first question for twenty minutes. I should have moved on, but even if I had, would it have made any difference?

I sigh and hand her my test. I'm sure I failed.

"I am sorry for your loss Lumi," she says, gently.

"Thanks," I whisper as I stand up and leave the room.

When Mom sees my grade on the test she will for sure say I shouldn't have gone to school today. But there's nothing I can do about it now.

I round a corner, head down. Is everyone still staring at me? I'm sure they are. They all know I have magic. I wonder if they think I killed Madam Mara. I'm in the right position for it to be believable.

"Why won't she talk to me?"

I stop and press myself against the wall. It's Amber. She doesn't sound like she's walking but I get ready to run in case she rounds the corner.

"Maybe 'cause you wrote about her without her permission?" a new voice suggests. It's Neo, Amber's cousin.

I hear Amber sigh. "I had to! Mr. M was pushing me for more information and I couldn't think of anything else to include!"

"Why didn't you ask her first?" He doesn't say it meanly, just more curious.

"I didn't have time."

"You could have warned her."

I can imagine Amber running her hand through her hair and making that face that says she's waring between two thoughts. "Okay, maybe I could have," she admits.

"Then why didn't you?"

"I don't know."

"You need to talk to her."

"I know," Amber says.

Then the sound of footfalls starts heading towards me.

I spin on my heel and duck into the bathroom. I wait as their footfalls pass and fall away. I sigh.

That was close. I'm not trying to avoid Amber, I swear, I'm not. But I'm not ready to talk about why she didn't tell me about the article, and by the sounds of it she wouldn't know the answer.

I head over to the sink and stare at myself. My blue hair is wild. Sticking up in places and knots knotted throughout. I damp my hand and hold it over my head, letting water drip onto my hair. Then I run my hands over it, trying to get it under control.

It works. But now my hair is wet and there's no air dryers to dry it.

"Lumi?"

I look over my shoulder and see Mia standing in the doorway.

"Hey." I wave.

Her face softens. "How you doing?" she asks, coming over and placing a cold hand on my shoulder.

I shrug it off. "I'm okay,"

"It really sucks that you found her dead," she says. She's looking in the mirror now, fixing her ear length black hair.

"I guess."

She turns to me, a smile breaking out on her face. She leans in close and the scent of strawberries fills my noise. "Can you really do magic?" she whispers.

I nod.

"That's so cool!" she exclaims, her voice going back to normal. She leans back and looks into the mirror again. "You should come over sometime, and maybe show me some of your magic."

"No thanks."

She juts her bottom lip out and gives me puppy dog eyes. "Why not?"

"I don't show off my magic," I tell her. I try to step around her but she blocks me off.

"Clearly not if you kept it hidden for so long."

"I had to," I tell her.

She nods. "I get it." I raise an eyebrow and she elaborates. "I do, really."

"How so?" I ask, putting my hands on my hips. What kind of secrets has she had to keep?

She looks around, as if we aren't the only two in the bathroom. She leans in and my nose fills with her perfume again. "I was at the mall and my friends were messing around, and they spilled smoothie all over me!"

I laugh, and the sound echoes around the empty bathroom. When she doesn't join in, my laughter dies away.

"Why was that funny to you?" she asks, hurt evident in her voice.

"Cause it's not a secret?" I suggest.

"What do you mean it's not a secret?"

"The whole school knows about that, and I don't think that counts as a secret."

"The whole school?" Her face loses all its color. She stumbles back and grips the counter. "How does the whole school know?"

"Your friends gossip," I tell her. How does she think that's a secret? The whole school knew about it the day after it happened. Her 'friends' are huge gossips, and probably couldn't keep a secret if their lives depended on it.

"No." She shakes her head. "No," she repeats, louder this time. Her grip on the counter tightens and her eyes turn glossy.

Does this really hurt her so much? It's a silly little thing. So why is she taking it so hard?

"I'm sorry," I say, reaching out and patting her arm.

"Are you?" she snaps, glaring at me.

I quickly remove my hand. "I am. But I don't see why this is affecting you so much."

She takes a deep breath. "Sorry," she says sheepishly. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "That day was really bad and," she pauses. "And I guess just thinking about something from that day still reminds me of," she waves a hand, "everything."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I hedge.

She shakes her head. "No, but thanks."

I nod, unsure of what to say now. "I should get going." I gesture towards the door.

She blinks, as if she forgot where we were. "Oh. Yeah, of course. Again, I'm sorry about Madam Mara."

"Thanks," I say, ducking out of the bathroom.

It's weird how Mia can change emotions so fast. Mia has always seemed so far from me. I never would have thought that magic was a thing she'd like. But I guess with her anything that is big talk is interesting.

What could have happened that day to make her react like that? I try to think back to when it happened but I can't remember. It's possible it happened when I was consumed with training. Madam Mara had really been pushing me there for awhile.

The halls are as crowded as a can of sardines. I keep my head down. Lots of people are wearing sneakers. I even spot some slippers in the mix. I smile at that.

I get to my locker without being stopped. Are they giving me space? Or do they think I'll use magic on them?

I quickly spin my combination and open my locker.

Something flutters in front of my face.

I look up. Where the heck did that come from? I scan the hall but no one's paying attention to me.

I pick up the note.

Since you've decided to avoid me, and not answer my texts, I've resorted to notes. Can you please meet me out front?

I sigh.

I have no choice. If I go out the front and try to avoid her, I won't be able to do it. She'd jump on me. Even if I wanted to avoid her for the rest of my life she would find a way to ambush me. She knows where I live.

So, I grab my bag, slam my locker shut and head for the front doors.

I step out of the building and move to the side out of people's way. I don't even get a chance to look around before there's a hand around my arm, nails digging in and piercing my skin. I get pulled down the stairs, my arm almost falling out of its socket. Pulled around a corner and swung around so my back is against the wall.

"Ow!" I objected, but it falls on death ears.

"You've been avoiding me all day!" Amber's blonde hair is frizzy, sticking straight up, and to the sides. Her face isn't as glossy and bright as it usually is. I wonder if she's been stressed about this, or if she didn't put make-up on today.

"Yeah," I say flatly.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the article! I thought I would get more time to tell you, but I didn't and then you weren't answering my texts and-" Her arms fly around her, as if telling the story through shadow puppets.

"Why didn't you ask me first?" I interrupt.

She freezes. She closes her eyes and sighs. "My boss didn't give me enough time to ask. He wanted the article in twenty minutes and that's all I came up with. I told him to give me time to talk to you before publishing it, but clearly he didn't." She stares at me, waiting for a response.

"But you still didn't text me right after. Why?" Should I be going easier on her? I get that her boss was, well, was being bossy, but she still could have texted me after.

"I got swept up in other stuff," she says. When I don't say anything she adds, "I know it isn't an excuse but I really am sorry." Guilt dances in her eyes.

I know she's sorry. I knew it when she kept looking for me and texting me. But it hurt when she posted that. It was like telling the town I was scared and unsure of myself. Sure, I was one of those things, but I didn't want the town to know that. Not with the ceremony coming up.

"I guess I can forgive you," I say. "On one condition."

"What?" she asks, eagerly. Perking up like a puppy that just got a new toy.

"You have to keep me in the loop with anything the police do or don't tell you. Before you write about them."

"Yes! Of course!" She wraps her arms around me, and I wrap mine around her. "Thank you for forgiving me," she whispers, her breath hot on my ear.

"Of course," I whisper back.

***

"I'm home!" I call out as I shut the door behind me.

"In here!" Mom calls from the kitchen.

I kick my shoes off and leave them on the rug by the door. I drop my bag down there too. I make my way into the kitchen and am hit with the smell of bananas and chocolate. There's flour coating the counter like snow coating the ground. There's containers of sugar, baking powder, and chocolate chips scattered around the kitchen. An egg container sits open with one egg in it.

"What's going on here?" I ask, coming to the island and pulling out a stool.

"I'm doing some baking!" Mom exclaims. She's bent over, her attention focused on making sure the water is measured correctly.

"What for?" I ask.

"The funeral on Saturday."

"Why? Shouldn't other people be doing that? And why are you starting so early?" I ask.

"I volunteered! And this way I won't be doing it at the last minute," she explains, standing up and dumping the water into a white bowl.

"Why?"

"I thought it would be nice. And, this way you can help me!" she exclaims.

"Mom. I don't want-"

She glances up at me with a hard look. "You will be helping."

"But Mom, I really don't-"

"You are helping," she says.

I deflate. There's no point in fighting her. When she says stuff hard it's final.

"Now can you go to the store for me please?" she asks.

I sigh. "What do you need?"

"There's a list right there." She gestures to a sticky note sitting on the counter. "You can grab some money from my purse. Now hurry, I need all this for my next batch."

I nod and hop off the stool. I grab the list and some money from Mom's purse. "I'll try to be fast," I say as I leave the house.

I start off at a jog, but then it feels like people might think I'm running from someone so I slow to a walk.

Traffic buzzes past me. The breeze slightly lifts my hair from my shoulders.

I come to a stop at a crosswalk. The street is extra busy today, it's the time that everyone is off of work.

"Lumi."

I look over my shoulder, suddenly feeling deja vu. "Lucas."

"Funny running into you here again," he says sheepishly, rubbing his neck and not looking at me.

"Yeah." Why can't I say more than one word?

He comes and stands beside me. I turn to face him. "I'm sorry about Madam Mara. Is... is that what you um..." he trails off. Again he avoids my eyes.

"Is that what?" I ask. My mind seems to have gone blank. I wonder if the police talked to him.

He looks up, finally making eye contact. "Is that where you were going on Saturday?"

I nod.

"So you were lying about getting flour for your mom?"

I nod again. "But, this time I really am going and getting ingredients for baking," I tell him, showing him the list.

He scans through it and then turns back to me. "Why is she doing so much baking?"

"It's for the funeral," I say. I glance away and notice that the walk sign is up. "Looks like we can cross."

Lucas looks too and nods. We cross together, in silence.

When we get to the other side Lucas stops and turns to me. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, okay. Bye."

He waves and turns away. I start to head to the store but stop. I turn around and call his name.

"Yeah?" he asks, stopping and turning to face me.

"Did the cops question you?"

He raises an eyebrow and slowly shakes his head. "No. Why?"

I sigh. That must mean they don't have him on their radar. "I told them that I ran into you on my way there."

He stays very still. Slowly he starts to ask, "should I watch out for them then?"

"I'm not sure."

He nods. "Thank you for letting me know."

"You're welcome."

Then we go our separate ways.

The rest of the trip goes uneventfully. It's not till I'm home and dumping the stuff on the counter that something happens.

"Thank you honey," Mom says, coming over and hugging me.

"You're welcome," I say.

"Can you get an apron and help me?"

"Yeah," I grumble.

"Thank you!" she sings. She goes back to mixing whatever's in the bowl.

As I'm putting an apron on my phone dings. I pull it out of my pocket. My phone almost slips out of my hand as I read Amber's text.

The police think you did it and are coming to talk to you.