One Hundred Candles [2] by Mara Purnhagen Page A

to take out our books. I ripped a sheet of paper from my notebook and quickly scrawled a note. Gwyn—can we talk later? Before end of day. Important. Then I folded it, leaned over and flung it onto her desk. I watched as she unfolded the paper, then looked up at me, her expression puzzled.
    Please? I mouthed.
    She nodded yes.
    Good, I thought. Maybe Gwyn had an idea about what this curtain was. Maybe the voice was not at all like the one I had heard. Maybe she had heard wrong, or embellished the story. I wanted a little clarity, something to convince me that our stories were actually totally different. Deep down, I was most afraid that this could be real. If a hundred spirits were going to invade the school, and if one of those spirits happened to be the same one that had spoken to Gwyn, then something bad was hurtling toward us. I felt my sling and the way it hugged my chest. It had taken only seconds for “the Watcher”—whatever it was—to inflict this kind of damage. I wanted to be prepared if it found me again.
    While the teacher droned on about our next test, my mind wandered back to Harris. I was glad that he wasn’t buying into the school’s enthusiasm over the unexplained video clip. Too many people were accepting it as definitive proof of the paranormal, and it bothered me that a few seconds of footage had suddenly converted the entire school into staunch believers that Lincoln High was haunted. I hoped Shane would review the tape I’d given him. I’d asked Dad first, but he was swamped with a caseload that was growing by the hour.
    “We’re getting calls about everything from full-bodied apparitions to UFO sightings,” he complained. “It’s getting more and more difficult to weed out genuine cases of unexplained energy from the nut-job fantasies.”
    I told both my parents about the video and my skepticism, but I had been careful not to mention the hundred-candles game at Gwyn’s house. Not only did I want to avoid their disappointment, but I was afraid they would use it as an excuse to fight, and I was determined not to be the cause of any more of their heated disagreements.
    While my parents were determining their future cases, I was trying to determine my relationship with Harris. He still walked me to and from class each day, but I wondered if he would stop once my sling came off. Our New Year’s kiss was as far as things had gone. Harris was not openly affectionate with me at school. He would sometimes put his arm around my shoulder or give me a light kiss on the cheek, but that was all. I was confused, so I turned to my best friend for advice.
    “Do you think he really likes me?” I asked Avery after school. I had tried to track down Gwyn between classes and, later, in the parking lot, but I couldn’t find her. Our dark discussion would have to wait a little longer.
    Avery and I were sitting on the floor of her room going over our notes for a history test the next day. “He said he owed me for dragging me to that party, but it’s more than that, right?”
    She folded her notebook in half. “Of course Harris likes you. He follows you around everywhere.”
    “I know. But he hasn’t asked me out or anything.”
    “We’ve only been back to school for a week. Give him some more time.”
    “I guess.” I flipped through my own history notes, looking for the tiny stars I usually doodled next to something that indicated a potential test question. I couldn’t concentrate, though. “What’s the story with Gwyn?” I asked. “She seems to know him pretty well.”
    “We’re not going to get much studying done, are we?” Avery asked with a smile.
    “Sorry. I’m just trying to figure him out.”
    I didn’t know why I was having so much trouble clarifying my feelings for Harris. Except for the hundred-candles fiasco, New Year’s Eve had been great. Gazing at the stars with Harris had been, by far, the most romantic moment of my life. In fact, it had been the only romantic moment of my