Kane cast crumbs too close to the table, and the birds darted so close that Ursula screamed and laughed, tearing backward and dragging Kane with her.
“Jerk.” She punched him playfully. “Good to see you haven’t changed a bit.”
It was odd to learn about himself secondhand, like reading his own biography. It helped that Ursula seemed so sincere. Right now, she seemed like a person who had never successfully lied in her life. The version of her from before—from the path, from the bike rack—seemed at once so improbable and totally expected. When Kane’s world ended, so had the world they once built together. Maybe his limbo hadn’t been so lonely, after all.
For the next few minutes Ursula talked about baking and their teachers and the frustrations of field hockey. Kane allowed himself a momentary peace. Slowly, somewhere within him, his own flock of sparrows was returning. He didn’t dare get too close. He told himself to be patient and keep casting out crumbs to see what showed up.
The door banged open—a teacher finally coming to tell them to get back inside. Kane’s simmering nervousness returned. So did his guilt. As they entered, the first bell rang, and the halls congested with students. All the questions Kane had forgotten to ask crowded his mind.
“Urs, do we…have any friends?”
Ursula laughed. “Sure, Amity Regional isn’t that big. Most of us have been in school together since like, forever.”
Kane fought to keep his head down, not meeting the stares of students watching him. He thought of the photo of the shoes he found in his journal. His shoes, Ursula’s, and two other pairs.
“No I mean like friend friends? Like, other bird-feeding friends?”
“Afraid it’s just you and me. Sorry, bud.”
“No, it’s okay. I just thought…” Kane didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. “I thought I recognized someone. Do we know a boy? Tall, brown skin, freckles, greenish eyes, sort of a gaunt, model look?”
Like a cloud drifting across the sun, the light in Ursula went out.
“You mean Dean Flores.”
“Dean Flores?” Kane tasted familiarity in every syllable. “Do we know him?”
“No. He’s new here. Moved to East Amity late last year, I think. Never talks to anyone. The only reason I know his name is because he showed up at the athletics banquet right before school started and signed up for swim team. Evidently he’s really good. A diver, I think? I don’t know. I don’t trust him.”
“Why not?”
Ursula frowned. “Um, because you told me not to. You told me to avoid him on, like, his second day last year. I think your exact words were, ‘Anyone that pretty and that gloomy has probably killed their whole family or is planning to do it during the next new moon.’ And we’ve avoided him since.”
He laughed. The second bell sounded, and Ursula jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
“I’m this way. You have my number, right?”
He’d punched it into his loaner phone, which he held up to show her. Ursula gave a double thumbs-up.
“Wait, before you go, can I ask another question?”
Tentative, Ursula nodded.
“That night, on the path, there were these…things, with many legs…like, monsters.” A few freshman drifted by, making Kane aware of how strange this sounded. Ursula watched the freshman, as though keeping track of who had overheard. Kane lowered his voice.
“And after you saved me from them, and I mentioned Maxine—”
Ursula cut him off.
“I didn’t save you from anything. I was out for a run. I run outside all the time. I’m very sporty.” This was clearly a rehearsed explanation. Kane was right; she was a terrible liar. She went on. “We can discuss what you think you saw later. Not here. And if you think you see anything else, text me, okay? We usually have lunch together during sixth period. You’ll be fine until then, I promise.”
And she dashed off. Again.
Kane was alone in the hallway, baffled. Somewhere in the last few minutes a grittiness had risen up in the girl who baked cookies and feared birds. He’d glimpsed that edge again, and through it had seen another version of the world. A version that Ursula meant to guard.
His mind returned to the boy. Dean Flores. Even thinking the name brought back that eerie sensation of being watched, as though Dean’s eyes had taken ahold of Kane and never put him back down. Even now, it was like Dean could peer through the bricks and metal of the school to where Kane stood, stupefied, trying to put the pieces together.
Determination spread over him, straightening his back and clenching his fists. Dean Flores. Ursula Abernathy. These people knew him. Or they knew about him. He was sure they stood between him and the answers he needed.
And if they weren’t going to give Kane what he needed, fine. He’d take it at any cost. He had nothing left to lose.
• Six •
THE OTHERS
For half the day no one spoke to Kane, and it was lovely.
In Statistics and Analysis, Kane was allowed to opt out of the pop quiz. In Spanish, Señora Pennington skipped Kane as the class took turns correcting sentences on a handout. In biology, Kane got to sit out the lab and stay at his desk and “catch up on the reading he’d missed.” Instead, he took out the photo and studied it.
And no one cared.
Or, if they cared, no one dared say anything. Rumor had likely spread about Kane’s outburst toward Viv, and the warm welcomes of homeroom had gone cold. People gave Kane space. Kane gave Kane space. He watched over his own shoulder as he scribbled shoes into his journal. He drifted beyond himself, like a demon unsure about possessing this body or a ghost debating residency in this house.
He wondered who wore white sneakers and who wore gray flats.
The bell rang. Kane pushed the photo into his pocket as his classmates returned to their desks to pack up. Adeline Bishop passed out the homework for Mrs. Clark, and when she got to Kane’s desk she lingered, curious about his journal. He slapped it shut and gave her a scornful look and, because she was Adeline Bishop, her glance back held withering amusement. To spite her, Kane left the homework on his desk.
Next up was gym. Kane wished he didn’t remember this and could skip on account of his broken memory, but he was on a mission. He scanned the faces in the hallway for Ursula or Dean and saw neither. Anyone looking at him looked away quickly. It was impossible to figure out who might be hiding something from him, because in a strange reversal, everyone seemed to be hiding from him in general. Frustration threaded through him, and by the time he reached the gymnasium he was in a terrible mood.