“I don’t know his real name. Just some kid. I don’t think he meant to burn me, just scare me a little. It’s just one of those growing-up things, you know?” She often talked to him about “growing-up things.”

She held him at arm’s length now, studying him thoughtfully. He didn’t like the look on her face. This was her best imitation of a lie detector.

“Did you sleep in your clothes?” The dark cloud in her eyes concerned him. “This is the same shirt—these are the same clothes you wore yesterday, for goodness’ sakes!”

As she pieced it together, Finn tried to think of something to distract her. But she was too quick for him. “I don’t remember that hole in your shirt at dinner.”

“Hands beneath the table, Mom.”

“Finn…”

“I can’t help it if you didn’t see it.”

“I should have known, with your going to bed so early last night.” She was thinking aloud. “We can’t tell your father.”

He breathed a huge sigh of relief.

She eyed his wound, “But this did happen to you last night, didn’t it? After you went to sleep.”

He had no choice but to nod. Being grounded for life was better than continuing to lie to her.

“How late were you out?” she asked, heading for his bedroom window to inspect it like a detective.

“Midnight.” This was the truth.

“How’d you do it? Your father and I were downstairs until eleven or later.”

Finn’s window looked down on an area of the driveway in front of the garage. There was no roof below him, just a tiny apron of flower bedding and then the driveway’s black asphalt. He had a brain freeze trying to think up a way to explain his nocturnal escape, knowing from previous experience that the more of the story he made up, the more difficult it would be to keep it straight.

Then he remembered the room’s window box. “The fire ladder!” he said. His grandfather had installed a chain fire ladder several years before. In the event of an emergency he was to block the bottom crack of his door with clothes or bedding and wait for instructions from firemen to use the stow-away ladder. He’d promised a long time ago to never use the ladder to sneak out.

“I see,” she said, clearly disappointed in him.

“If you have to ground me, I understand,” Finn said, trying to subtly encourage her to do so. If grounded, he could spend more time in his room without raising suspicions. More time in his room meant more chances to sleep, and sleep meant crossing over. If he napped, would he cross over into the park during the day?

So many questions to answer.

“Show me!” his mother ordered.

“Show you what?”

“The ladder. How you got down there.”

Finn looked out the window and felt a little dizzy. It looked about a hundred feet down. His mother knew he was afraid of heights.

“You want me to go down the ladder?” He knew she couldn’t possibly want him to do that. It looked like a death wish.

Glancing out the window, she said, “No. It looks dangerous to me.”

“It is dangerous.”

She put her hand down onto the window box’s lid.

He was in big trouble if she opened up the window box. That fire ladder was buried under a pile of unused toys that went back years. Probably dust an inch thick. How would he explain any of that?

He hurried to stop her. “I messed up, Mom! I’m sorry.”

“You’re definitely grounded.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re not to use that ladder except in case of an emergency. I need your word on that.”

She added hotly, “And I’ll expect you to keep it.”

“I promise.” He hung his head, feeling a mixture of shame and excitement. He poked at his wound as if it hurt a lot more than it did.

“Now let’s get that cleaned up!” she said.

10

Finn stood in front of his locker, wondering how he was going to find the remaining two DHIs, Willa and Maybeck. He didn’t trust Charlene to seek out Willa. Just as he was thinking this, a voice said: “Isabella Angelo. They call her Willa.” Amanda stepped out from behind his open locker door.

Where had she come from? Could she read minds?

“What? How?” Surprised by her, he couldn’t get a sentence out.

“Willa,” Amanda repeated.

Finn remembered Willa as a bookish girl with chocolate-brown eyes and a loud voice.

“You found her?” he asked, astonished.

“Maitland Middle School.”

“But how—?”

“I have my ways,” she said.

“She’s into some weird kind of sport,” Finn said, remembering. “It’s not gymnastics.”

“Archery.”

“That’s it!”

“Like cupid,” she said. “And swimming.” Amanda had certainly done her homework. “She said you were cute.”

“You’ve spoken to her?”

“She’ll meet you in VMK tonight, like you suggested.”

“You’re amazing.”

“How was it last night when you went to sleep?” she asked curiously. “Did you…you know?”

“What?” asked Dillard Cole from behind them. Dillard’s sweatshirt was big enough to cover a chair.

“Hey, Dill. I’m kinda busy here.”

Dillard looked between the two. His gaze landed on Finn. He looked hurt. He shuffled off. The sides of his shoes were so worn on the outside edges that his ankles rolled.

Finn felt bad to see Dillard so crushed. He was a good guy. The crossing over was taking Finn away from friends like Dill, making all sorts of trouble for him.

Amanda persisted. “Did you end up in the park last night or not?”

“Yeah. Charlene was there. And Philby. And there were…pirates.”

“Pirates?”

“As in Pirates of the Caribbean. The machines—the guys you see in the ship, and stuff. It’s kinda hard to explain, exactly.”

The shock registered on her face, but dissipated just as quickly. “And?”

“It got a little…weird.”

“Define weird,” she said. “Did you see anyone else?”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know.”

Finn rolled his sleeve up past his elbow to the Band-Aid and the glowing red circle surrounding it. “I took a laser hit,” he said.

Her face twisted. “That looks like a cigarette burn.”

“You and my mother,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m grounded. As in, forever. It’s a long story.”

She said, “Maybeck works at Crazy Glaze.”

Finn looked at her blankly.

“The ceramics shop,” she said. “Over on Kilgore. You decorate mugs and plates and pitchers. Stuff like that. They fire them there, too. It’s his aunt’s store.”

“How do you know all this?” he asked.

She avoided an answer, blushing and staring at her feet. “I’m coming with you,” she announced. “That’s part of the deal.”

“What deal?”

“Our deal.”

“Do we have a deal?” he asked.

“We do now.”

“Maybe you missed the part where I told you I was grounded. I gotta get home after school.”

“Did you ride the bus?”

“My bike.”

“Well, there you go,” she said. “Me too. We’ll just happen to stop there on the way home.”

Amanda lifted her head as if she’d heard something. Her hair whipped around as she turned to look down the hall. “Uh-oh,” she said.

All at once, Finn felt a numbing coldness pass through him, a wave of nausea, as if all the blood had suddenly drained out of him. He sank to his knees.

Amanda caught him as he was going down. Her books spilled. Some kids stepped out of her way.

“Finn? Finn? Are you okay?”

“Cold…” he managed to explain.

She hugged him, trying to warm him. Finn couldn’t keep his teeth from chattering. His whole body was shaking.

Amanda pleaded with him. “Finn…” She rubbed his arms. “Think of someplace warm. A beach. A boat. Hot, hot sun…It’s a hot beach on a summer day.”

Finn felt himself warming. The more he thought of the beach, the warmer he felt.