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She was absolutely breathtaking.

Archer leaned close to whisper something in her ear. She laughed and put her hand on his arm.

I tasted bile.

I suddenly remembered that in Greek mythology, Poseidon had been one of Aphrodite's lovers. Did Sue know that? Did Archer?

Sue placed her hands on Archer's shoulder and pulled herself up on tiptoe to whisper back to him. I saw the curve of her breast press against his arm, and anxiety sped up my heart. I felt the blood pulse in my head with almost unbearable pressure, and I gripped the doorjamb to keep from falling. I wasn't sure how much longer I could watch and still survive.

The DJ saved me. I don't even know what he played, but it was loud and it was fast and it made Ember squeal and dive between Archer and Sue to rally them for a huge group flail-fest.

Eventually, my heartbeat went back to normal and I started breathing again, but I felt exhausted, as if I'd just gotten over a long illness. I knew I needed to leave and recuperate, but ripping myself away from the door was like peeling back Velcro.

"'I've been waiting for you,' Cara Leonard," said a voice from the shadows as I trudged back to my car. "'We meet again at last. The circle is now complete. When I left you, I was but the learner; now
I
am the master.'"

I had to smile. I knew only one person who opened conversations with
Star Wars
quotes, and he was the very first person I'd met at Chrysella. Claudia would kill me, but what the hell. I turned to face him.

"'Only a master of evil,' Robert Schwarner," I continued the quote.

"Nice," he said. Robert sat on the grass between the parking lot and the gym. In the lotus position. He swayed to the music. "How was the dance?" he asked.

"I didn't really go in." I walked over and plopped down next to him. "You?"

"Nah. I don't really like dances. But I like Halloween. And I like music. So I dress in costume and come sit out here."

I checked out his outfit. "Aren't you wearing the same cloak you wear to school every day?"

"It only looks the same. This is Throck Medvale's winter cloak from
BeastSlayer II.
It's for costume purposes only. My daily cloak is from the first
BeastSlayer.
"

"I see." I studied him, then asked, "Robert, are you happy at Chrysella?"

Robert thought a minute, then shrugged. "It's high school. One day it'll all be over."

He went back to swaying. I watched him a moment, then headed to my car.

"Good night, Robert."

"Night. Oh, and Cara—you look really hot."

I laughed. "Thanks."

I drove home thinking about what Robert had said about being happy. He was right. High school was just high school. One day it would all be over. The key wasn't to try to make it amazing, but just to get through. And from now on, that's exactly what I'd do. I'd keep my head down, study, and work like crazy so there was no doubt I'd get into Northwestern.

That's
when everything would change: college. I was done with the social scene at Chrysella, I was done with banging my head against the wall, and despite what Claudia wanted, I was
definitely
done with the Ladder.

Claudia wasn't happy when I told her I had no intention of ever getting back on the Ladder again. I drove to her house to let the bomb drop, then watched her do a ten-minute dumb show of frustration. She threw her arms in the air and stormed away just far enough that it seemed she was leaving me forever—despite the fact that I was in her house and sitting on her bed, so that clearly wasn't an option—then turned her head to me and stared daggers. She stalked back and eyed me appraisingly, twitching her braided loops in a way that should have been physically impossible. She reached her arms to the sky, imploring the Lord Above to help her, help her save this lost and confused soul. She paced in front of me, arms clasped behind her back, and discussed me as if to a jury.

"I ask you," she asked no one, "what am I supposed to do with this woman? How do you help someone who has no idea what's truly good for her? What more can I do?"

I piped up and entered into evidence one fact I hadn't mentioned: that I'd managed to strike up what could conceivably be called a friendship with a member of the Happy Hopeless.

Claudia fell to her knees in shock.

All told, she reveled in her outrage for about a half hour. Then she brought out the Uno cards. After she beat me, I borrowed her mom's old bike and we made the several-mile trek out to Core Creek Park, where we cooled off with an easy cruise by the lake before turning around and cranking it back to Claude's. The fall air was just crisp enough to burn my lungs each time I strained uphill, standing in the saddle and fighting to keep my momentum. I wasn't the most coordinated rider—I had to look straight ahead or I'd veer off in whatever direction my gaze wandered. Still, I couldn't help letting my eyes roam the trees that lined the streets. Every leaf had exploded into color—huge, beautiful flakes of red, orange, and yellow. With each gust of wind, they burst off their branches and rained down on us. It felt like riding through confetti.

That was Sunday, and Sunday was fantastic.

Monday, however, was a misery. I knew I'd have to see Archer. I considered playing sick, but that would only postpone the agony. I reminded myself school was a job, not a social opportunity, and it was time to go to work.

The whole drive there, I fantasized about getting into a car crash. It couldn't be my fault, of course, and I wouldn't want to get hurt in a life- or long-term-quality-of-life-threatening way, but if the crash put me into a coma until after graduation, that would be good.

They say people can hear things in a coma, and I had faith that my mom would read textbooks to me so I'd stay up to date on schoolwork. By the time I woke up, I could ace a GED and go right on to college. Northwestern would go crazy for me. The "I Spent Junior and Senior Years in a Coma" story would make a great application essay. Karl would burst with pride. Maybe I'd even end up on
The Today Show.
Then I could land a motivational speaking tour and make so much money I wouldn't even need college. I'd still go, of course, but money wouldn't be an issue. I'd even give Karl a monthly allowance so he could hit the blackjack tables guilt-free.

Unfortunately, by now I was pulling into school, and since I was decidedly
not
in a coma, I had to deal.

I saw Archer within two seconds of walking in, but he wasn't waiting for me at my locker. He was back by his old window seat with Ember, Sue, Dinah, and the rest of the gang. He stood in the middle of their group, making them all laugh, but he froze when he saw me.

Of course he did. He had thought it was perfectly clear we were just friends, and I'd thrown myself on him like an unhinged nymphomaniac. I was sure the coma-till-graduation option would have been fantastic for him, too.

That's when I realized something. While I couldn't actually disappear, I
could
make what had happened disappear. I'd just act like it had never occurred, and I'd stay far enough away from Archer that we'd never have to deal with it. Ever.

Uh-oh. He was walking toward me. He looked nervous. He was probably worried I was going to do something stupid like collapse into tears or profess my undying love right there in the hall.

"Cara, hey!" he said. "I, um ... didn't see you at the Halloween dance. I would have called, but..."

I laughed, as if the idea of him calling was the most preposterous thing in the universe. "I didn't go," I said with a shrug. " A little under the weather, no biggie. Talk to you later!" I turned and strode toward my locker, but he followed right along.

"I, um..." He took a deep breath, then lowered his voice. "I kind of thought maybe we should talk."

"About what?" I asked. And here was the impressive part: I stopped walking and turned to face him with a perplexed look on my face, like I genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

"About ... you know..."

I gave him nothing. I shrugged my shoulders again and looked at him curiously.

The standoff continued for maybe a minute, and I had no idea how to get out of it gracefully. Then inspiration struck. "Ooh, it's my aunt's birthday! I want to text her before class starts. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, but I was already zipping out a side door to deliver my pretend text.

Wow. That kind of worked. It wasn't fun, but it worked. I could handle being in the same universe as Archer without falling apart. I could.

When I walked into English, I saw Archer had saved my usual spot next to him. I walked right past it and settled in across the room, sitting between a Happy Hopeless and a Cubby Crew. I don't know how Archer reacted. I didn't let myself look.

Lunch was a little more challenging. Finding a whole new group to sit with was way too daunting to handle. Happily, the vending machines still had Diet Cokes and Zone bars. I could've eaten in my car, but it felt conspicuous. I might be a loser, but I didn't have to look like one. I wandered around the main building until I found a small cement stairwell that led to some kind of basement door. The stairwell was littered with dried leaves—not surprising, since the whole area was half hidden by trees. The door itself was padlocked. I could only imagine what was in there—storage, I supposed. Whatever it was, it looked as though it hadn't been disturbed in ages. No one would see me down here, and it offered a bit of shelter from the cold. It was the perfect place to curl up with my lunch, hang out, and read until it was time for my afternoon classes. After school I drove home as quickly as possible.

This became my daily schedule. At first Archer tried to catch my attention and make conversation. I wasn't surprised. He was a nice person; I'm sure he felt obligated. I was always smiley, friendly, and very, very busy, so he soon realized he didn't have to make the effort.

It was perfect. Sure, I was more isolated than I'd have liked, and I did worry a little that someone might catch me in my lunchtime hideaway and mistake me for a homeless person, but I wasn't in pain on a daily basis, and that seemed like a totally reasonable tradeoff. As the weeks rolled by, I even decided the hermit life suited me. Oh, sure, there were some things I missed. I couldn't bring myself to go see Archer in
Cyrano,
for example, even though I knew he'd be brilliant. I'd spent so many weeks running lines with him and imagining he was thinking about
me
when he said each romantic word ... To hear them now would be torture.

I still might have tried if I hadn't already experimented with the previous week's jazz band concert. It was awful. Seeing Archer play piano reminded me of when I used to watch him practice at his house. It hurt too much. I tried to focus on the rest of the band and concentrate on the music, but it didn't help. I sneaked out in the middle of the show. On the plus side, I threw myself into classes and studying, and easily pulled Karl from his newspaper every night at dinner with deep discussions about U.S. history, physics, and what could have possibly driven the otherwise brilliant T. S. Eliot to write
Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats.
I had been a great student all year, but now I was Super Scholar, more knowledgeable than a speeding megacomputer, able to read tall textbooks in a single sitting.

With so much on my plate, time flew, and soon it was Thanksgiving break. It started out perfectly. My report card came in the mail, and it whisked me into Chrysella's honor roll stratosphere. Karl practically had a party for me when he saw it. He faxed the report card right to Stevenson Jaffe. If I got really lucky, I figured Dean Jaffe would be so blown away that he'd suggest I skip the rest of junior and senior years and get my butt to Northwestern immediately.

I spent Thanksgiving morning with my parents—or technically with Mom, since Karl's Thanksgiving was all about the NFL. Mom made the bird, the stuffing, and the pumpkin pie and set the table. I handled the green bean and sweet potato casseroles, and the rolls. I was also the official cranberry sauce musher. I took great pride in crushing away every last vestige of metal can lines. My aunt and uncle came in from Connecticut with my two little cousins and their super-mellow corgi mix, Lulu, and I forgot everything in the happy flurry of family chaos.

That night Karl fell asleep in front of the TV while Mom and I cleaned up. It took forever, but then we settled in at the kitchen table for late-night coffee and pie.

"Did you have fun today?" Mom asked.

I nodded, my mouth full. "I'm totally getting a dog like Lulu when I have my own place."

"She's a sweetie." Mom took her last bite of pie and a swig of coffee, then said, "So I spoke to Bina the other day..."

I froze. I looked at Mom, but she was concentrating on running her finger over her plate to sweep up scrapes of pumpkin. She wasn't giving me her Face of Ultimate Sympathy. That meant she might not know.

"Really?" I asked. "How is she?"

"She's good. She mentioned she hadn't seen you in a while, and I said I'd noticed the same thing, that you and Archer didn't seem to be spending time together. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's great," I said. "We just both got busy, that's all. But if you talk to Bina again, tell her I say hi. I really like her."

Mom smiled, satisfied. "I will. I like her, too."

"Want to play backgammon?"

"We haven't played in ages. I don't even know where the board is."

"I do. I'll get it."

I raced upstairs, pausing for just a moment in the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and shock back the giant lump of emotion threatening to push its way out. I stared at myself in the mirror and took two deep breaths. I was strong. I was fine.

I smiled at my reflection and trotted off to grab the backgammon board.

Friday morning I drove out to Claudia's for the weekend. As always, it made me wish I'd never moved away or that she could go with me to Chrysella. It was just so easy with Claudia. There was no pressure of wondering if this person or that person liked me and wanted me around. There was no second-guessing everything I said and worrying that I was messing up a potential friendship. There was no new-school/new-friends angst. I could just be myself.