School Spirits - By Rachel Hawkins Page 0,10

my room to watch my brand-new TV shows on my brand-new computer when Mom stopped me.

“Should we… Do you want to go back and get you some new clothes? I didn’t even think about that.”

My entire wardrobe consisted of black jeans, black T-shirts, and a selection of hoodies. Those were black, too, except for the pink one Finn had once gotten me as a joke. “I’ll be fine,” I told her. I’d seen enough kids to know that, while I wouldn’t exactly be a supermodel, I wouldn’t look like a total freak, either.

Mom nodded. “Okay. What about your cover story? Should we go over that one more time?”

I just barely managed to keep from rolling my eyes. We’d been over my cover story at least half a dozen times on the drive from Tennessee to Alabama, and then again on the drive from Maya’s to here. I could have recited it in my sleep. The gist of it was that I was Izzy Brannick—Mom let me use my real name since this was my first time doing a case solo—and I was from Tennessee. My mom had taken a job in the next town over, but we moved to Ideal because the schools were better. Short, simple, sweet.

Still, I repeated it to Mom. When I was done, she seemed satisfied, although I had a feeling I’d have to do it again before school tomorrow. “Anything else you want to talk about?” Mom asked, and I shook my head.

“You good for the rest of the night?” Mom was already glancing down the stairs.

“Sure,” I told her. “Go…do your thing.”

Mom’s “thing” was locking herself in the spare bedroom and poring over books and journals and weird magical documents. I wasn’t sure if she was searching for something that would help us on this case or just boning up on her General Monster Research. And there was that little part of me that wondered if she was looking for clues about Finn, but I never asked. I didn’t even know where any of that stuff had come from. It had just started showing up at the house right after we moved in last week. From more of Mom’s “friends,” I guessed.

Once I was in my room, I sorted through the DVDs, trying to decide which one to watch first. The one with the girl who falls in love with an alien sounded the most interesting, but I figured it, like the Secret Twin Murder Show, wouldn’t be that useful. So in the end, I picked the show about the poor girl who transfers to the rich-kid high school, Ivy Springs.

The cover was pretty boring, but by episode three, I was so into it that I didn’t even notice Torin in my mirror until he cleared his throat. Frowning, I reached out and clicked pause right before Everton, the rich boy, told Leslie, our impoverished heroine, that he had feelings for her. “What?” I snapped at Torin.

“Just checking in on you. You could be a little thankful, you know. Getting out of my own mirror requires considerable power on my part.”

“First of all, no, it doesn’t,” I countered. “You zip in and out of those things all the time. And secondly, I would be thankful if I wanted to talk to you, but I don’t, so I’m not.” I had too much on my plate right now to deal with Torin. Especially since I was still irritated about the dream invasion.

“That is unkind,” Torin sniffed. In the mirror, he was sitting on my bed. Mom had let me pick out a new bedspread yesterday, but I’d been so overwhelmed by all the patterns and the flowers and the pop stars that I’d ended up picking a plain green blanket that looked almost identical to the covers I’d left behind.

Ignoring Torin, I started the show up again. Everton confessed his love, Leslie swooned, and just as they were about to kiss, Torin piped up, “Those two seem insipid.”

I shot a look at him. “Shut up.”

“I mean it. And doesn’t that lad have another girl? This can really only end badly for everyone involved.”

In spite of myself, I smiled a little. “I guess I should get used to this kind of drama.”

Torin smiled back. “Certainly scarier than staking vampires, isn’t it?”

I wondered what it said about me that watching a teen soap opera with a four-hundred-year-old warlock felt, well…normal.

“I don’t know why I’m doing all of this,” I said, not taking my eyes off the screen.