seemed to be winking at her.
The short boy was gazing at her with a strange, eager expression. As if he were drinking in her horror. As if it intoxicated htm.
"Aren't you going to report that? Shouldn't you go to the principal's office?" he said. His voice was high and excited.
Cassie just stared at him, her breath coming quickly.
Then: "Yes, I am," she said. She grabbed the doll and jerked it and the twine came free. Slamming the locker shut, she headed for the stairs.
The principal's office was on the second floor. Cassie thought she'd have to wait, but to her surprise the secretary ushered her in as soon as she gave her name.
"Can I help you?" The principal was tall, with an austere, forbidding face. His office had a fireplace, Cassie noted distractedly, and he stood in front of it with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Yes," she said. Her voice was shaking. And now that she'd gotten here, she wasn't at all sure that this was a good idea. "I'm new at school; my name is Cassie Blake - "
"I'm aware of who you are." His voice was clipped and brusque.
"Well..." Cassie faltered. "I just wanted to report... Yesterday, I saw this girl having a fight with another girl, and she pushed her..." What was she talking about? She was babbling. "And I saw it, and so she threatened me. She's in this club - but the point is, she threatened me. And I wasn't going to do anything about it, but then today I found this in my locker."
He took the doll, holding it by the back of the dress with two fingers. He looked at it as if she'd handed him something the dog had dug up in the yard. His lip was curled in a way that reminded Cassie somehow of Portia.
"Very amusing," he said. "How apt."
Cassie had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Apt meant appropriate, didn't it? It was appropriate that somebody was hanging dolls in her locker?
"It was Faye Chamberlain," she said.
"Oh, no doubt," he said. "I'm quite aware of the problems Miss Chamberlain has in interacting with other students. I've even had a report about this incident yesterday, about how you tried to push Sally Waltman down the stairs - "
Cassie stared, then blurted out, "I what ? Who told you that?"
"I believe it was Suzan Whittier."
"It isn't true! I never - "
"Be that as it may," the principal interrupted, "I really think you'd better learn to solve these problems among yourselves, don't you? Instead of relying on - outside help."
Cassie just went on staring, speechless.
"That's all." The principal tossed the doll in the wastebasket, where it hit with a resounding plastic clunk.
Cassie realized she was dismissed. There was nothing to do but turn around and walk out.
She was late for her next class. As she walked in the door all eyes turned to her, and for an instant she felt a flash of paranoia. But at least no one got up and left when she took a desk.
She was watching the teacher do an example on the board when her backpack moved.
It was lying on the floor beside her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the dark blue nylon hump up. She thought she saw it. When she turned to stare at it, it was still.
Imagination...
As soon as she faced the board, it happened again.
Turn and stare. It was still. Look at the board. It humped up. As if something were wriggling inside it.
It must be waves of hot air, or something wrong with her eyes.
Very slowly and carefully, Cassie edged her foot over to the backpack. She stared at the blackboard as she lifted her foot and then brought it down suddenly on the "hump."
All she felt was the flatness of her French book.
She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until it sighed out. Her eyes shut in helpless relief...
And then something beneath her foot writhed. She felt it under her Reebok.
With a piercing shriek, she leaped to her feet.
"What is the matter?" the teacher cried. Now everyone really was staring at her.
"There's something - something in my backpack. It moved." Cassie had a hard time not clutching at the teacher's arm. "No, don't - don't reach in there..."
Shaking her off, the teacher held the backpack open. Then she plunged her hand inside and pulled out a long rubber snake.
Rubber.
"Is this supposed to be funny?" the teacher demanded.
"It's not mine," Cassie said stupidly.