I didn’t know I’d made Kandi mad until we were back in the classroom after lunch. Even then it took a little while to sink in because my mind was still on my story. I’d only had fifteen minutes in the beanbag chair, and the killer was now about to crest the roof while Lucas frantically looked for a way down.

“Did you hear me?” Kandi asked with a huff.

“Huh?” I asked back, ’cause I had no idea that she’d said anything.

“You were really mean to me,” she said, and was she ever pouting!

“Uh…sorry. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Well, you were,” she said, and stomped off.

Next to me, Rayne put a clip back in her hair and giggled.

I looked at her. “What?”

“She’s not used to that.”

“Used to what?”

Colby had her feather pencil out, ready for action. “Being ignored,” she said without even looking at me.

Wynne leaned closer across our continent and whispered, “Can we pay you to keep doing it?” and the three of them giggled.

I didn’t get it, but I also didn’t care. It seemed like gossipy girl stuff to me. And then Ms. Miller started us on a timed write. My favorite weather is…, she wrote on the board, and like a switch going off, I forgot everything else and started writing.

When time was up, Kandi volunteered to collect the papers, and I could tell her eyes were slurping up words from the pages as she walked them up to Ms. Miller.

“She’s reading yours,” Rayne said, pulling the same hair clip back out.

“Who says it’s mine?” I asked.

“Invasion of privacy,” Colby called over her shoulder as she watched Kandi move toward Ms. Miller’s desk.

Wynne was watching Kandi, too, and when she turned back around, she leaned forward and whispered, “You should complain.”

“Who says it’s mine?” I asked again, and this time they all answered me with looks that said I was dumber’n a load of bricks.

Which I guess I am, ’cause once again, I didn’t hear Kandi coming up behind me on my way to Brookside. Lucas was still on the rooftop in my mind, and I was trying to figure out how to get him down alive when she spooked me with “Don’t you love this weather?”

I jumped. She laughed.

“Stop that!” I spat out.

“Why are you so skittery?”

“I’m not! I was just thinking!”

“About…?”

“Look,” I said, stopping dead in my tracks. “What do you want?”

“Nothing! I’m just in a great mood!” She gave me a big, sunny smile and said, “I think it’s the weather. I just love the wind.” She put her arms out and twirled around. “All that…energy!”

My jaw went for a dangle.

“What?” she asked.

“You read my paper.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, but guilt was stamped all over her face.

I gave her the stink-eye. “Don’t lie!”

“Okay! So what if I read it?” she laughed. “It’s not like it was personal.” I was still giving her the stink-eye, so she said, “You’re a good writer, Lincoln, you really are.”

Then she twirled around and ran away.