The Guidance - By Marley Gibson Page 0,18

my Halloween party? My mother raved about the one you did for her, and it would be awesome to have something like that."

Quickly, I put two and two together and remember the lovely woman from Loreen's shop. "Oh, right. You're Evelyn Crawford's daughter." Man, I should have seen the resemblance.

"That's my mom! Would you be willing to do that for me?"

I glance at Celia and then over my shoulder at Jason, who shrugs his approval. "Why not? That'll be fun. Wicked cool, even."

"Wicked cool it is. I like that," Stephanie says happily. She points at Celia and Clay. "Of course, y'all are invited as well. Everyone's going to be there. Jason, tell Taylor and Ryan to come too."

"And Becca Asiaf?" I ask. We leave no ghost huntress behind.

Stephanie hesitates for a minute and then says, "Yeah, sure."

Right then,another one of Courtney's flock,Megan Bremer, bounces up next to Stephanie and sneers at me. "Are you coming with us, Steph? We're going to Reuben's Deli."

"Absolutely," she says, but I can hear the hesitation in her voice. "It was great talking to you, Kendall. Don't forget the party." She heads off with Megan but then flips back around and waves.

"Wow ... invited to Stephanie Crawford's party," Celia says with a smirk. "'Now go we in content/To liberty, and not to banishment.'"

"Thank you, Celia," I say with a snort.

She and I both double over laughing.

"I don't get it," Jason says.

"Celia ... get it? That's a quote from Celia in As You Like It. See, Celia quoting Celia—" The look on Jason's face reads blank as a fresh notebook. "Never mind."

"It's a Shakespeare thing, Tillson," Celia says. "You wouldn't get it."

I stand tall. "Well, I get that I'm doing readings at Stephanie's party and becoming friends with her, so maybe Courtney will finally get over her problem with me and start being nice."

Jason pulls me back to him and kisses me on the head. "Aww, Kendall. And maybe that dead pig you're dissecting will resurrect itself and fly too."

I quirk my mouth to the side. "Stranger things have happened."

Celia looks at Clay and then says, "And probably will."

Chapter Five

"This was on my locker," I say at lunch on Friday as I slam the crinkled photocopy on the table.

I startle Celia, who grabs the paper and smooths it out. "Ahhh, last year's Valentine's Day dance." Cuddled together in the picture is Jason, in a nice suit, and Courtney, in a blood-red formal holding a bouquet of pink roses.

"She put that on your locker?" Taylor asks.

I breathe out noisily. "For everyone to see. Like she's got a claim on him just because they once dated. How juvenile is this? I'm tired of her shit."

"You and me both," Celia mutters. "Someone needs to put her in her place. You're never going to get her to leave you alone. Either punch her or do something else. This has to end."

I contemplate how it would feel to connect my knuckles with Courtney's right cheekbone, but that's so not me. The only person I've ever hit was Kaitlin, five years ago, when she pulled my Barbie's head off and split her face right in two. I hauled back and smacked her into the middle of next week. Course, when she went running to Mom, I got the worst tongue-lashing of my life, followed by a couple of wallops to my hindquarters from Dad's bedroom slipper. Something tells me if I take a swing at Courtney Langdon, I'll end up spread-eagled against the wall in Principal Trumbell's office while he has batting practice on my rear. Deservedly so.

"What sort of revenge can I take?" I ask instead.

"Copy a bunch of pictures of you and Jason making out and plaster them all over her car," Celia says with a smirk. "Oh, I know—speaking of her car, we could Oreo it."

I shake my head. "Do what?"

Celia sits up. "You get a few packs of Oreos, twist them apart, and stick the icing side to the car. It's a bitch and a half to get them off, and if you go through the car wash, it just looks like total crap. It takes three or four washings to get it clean."

"You sound like an expert in this field," Taylor notes.

I giggle at the thought, but it wouldn't be very Christianlike of me. "Revenge doesn't belong to us."

"True," Celia says sadly.

I crumple up the picture again and chuck it over toward the nearest garbage can. "Something has to break though, before I do."

"I suggest an offre