for your help.”

He looked at the clock on the wall. “I guess I should get to grading those papers. I think I'll take them home, though. I just need to grab them from my office.”

She nodded. “Sure. I'll meet you at the front door?”

“Sure. I'll drive you home. Well, not home. Not to Chicago. To Carol's.”

She was noticing their partings were becoming more awkward, neither

certain whether to just say “bye” and leave, or something more. As if they were

some kind of couple and needed to…what? Shake hands? Slap each other on the

back and butt heads? Kiss?

She guessed it was more about whether or when they would see each other

again. Just because she was staying at the house next door didn't mean she could

assume she would see him again before she left.

The twinge jumped in her stomach again. She didn't know if she'd even be

back in Golden Grove.

Okay, deep breath. Stupid thoughts.

She hoisted her purse on her back, turned a corner in the hallway, only to bump into someone.

Freckles, braces. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing herself in high school.

Chapter Thirteen

A couple of books and an art board clapped to the floor. Kate bent to pick them

up, apologizing at the same time. “I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there.”

“No, it was me,” the girl said, her face flushed. “I wasn't watching where I

was going, I guess.”

Kate picked up the books, noticing the covers. Milton's History of Art and Drawing the Human Body. She hadn't heard of the second but the first was the same book she'd used when she was in high school. She handed the books to the

girl, who tucked them into her purple backpack.

She flipped over the art boards in order to pass them to the girl. The one on

top was a sketch of a rearing horse, no rider. She slid that one to the side to see the one under it, which was an acrylic painting of a tulip, up close and in detail.

Both were excellent.

“Did you do these?” she asked the girl, who was shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Yes. In art class.”

Kate noticed the girl hadn't once looked her in the eye. “They're very good.”

There was the hint of a smile on the girl's face that quickly vanished.

“Thanks.”

Kate handed over the boards. The girl took them then sidled to a nearby table where she dumped her backpack. Kate followed, curious. Work could wait

for a few minutes.

“You're here awfully late.”

The girl never turned. “I got permission from Mr. Clark to work on my experiment tonight. I was gone yesterday. And I'm going to help with

Homecoming decorations later.”

“Oh, yes. 'Keeping It Rad In The Eighties', I believe.” She paused. “So. Are

you in Peter's—Mr. Clark's chemistry class?”

“Chemistry 201.” The teenager began busily arranging equipment on the

table.

“201? You must like chemistry.”

“I guess.”

Kate moved closer, putting her things on the table next to the girl's backpack.

She stuck out her hand.

“I'm Kate. I'm a friend of Mr. Clark. He's been helping me with chemistry, too.”

The brief smile returned, and she shook Kate's hand gingerly. “I'm Stacy.”

She went back to work, pulling a thick, heavy-looking textbook from the depths

of her backpack.

“Hi, Stacy.” Stacy…the girl one of the Thread Heads had mentioned the

other morning?