27

WHERE I’M IMMORTALLY IN EIGHTH GRADE

I’d like to say that’s where it all ended. But school started back up and Mr. Plant was relentless. He called on Henry and me the first day back.

“Ready to present your project, boys?”

Seth and Tia? They’d vanished. Seth being gone was a blessing from the gods. Tia? I looked for her around every corner. There was no sign of her. I should have asked for her number when I had the chance.

“We’re ready,” Henry said, jumping up from his desk. He carted a cardboard box up to the front of the classroom that looked exactly like the funerary box—my sole contribution to the project. The shabtis had done an amazing job painting it alabaster, with dark hieroglyphs covering it in perfect script.

I followed him up, carrying the trifold display board Henry had finished while I’d been asleep. The shabtis had wanted to redo the whole thing, but Henry would have been way offended, so I made them swear not to offer again.

Mr. Plant grilled us, asking us the names of the heads on the Canopic jars, asking us what went in each one. It was almost like he was looking for a reason to give us a bad grade. But when Henry started in on how the goddess Isis must feel when she looks at a Canopic jar, even Mr. Plant wiped a tear from his eye.

Yes, we got an A.

And yes, the rest of the day went on, and then the next and the next.

I looked for Gil everywhere, thinking he’d just show up after school one day like normal to drive me home, but I never saw him. He’d disappeared. But each day that passed, I formulated a plan to find him. It was my new quest.