Legend of Witchtrot Road - By E.J. Stevens Page 0,13

puffy and she was holding her car keys so tightly that I thought she might turn them into diamonds. She was total y wound up and it was freaking me out.

“Feeling any better today?” I asked.

“Right as rain,” Emma said, fidgeting with the button on her blouse. “Wel , you know, so long as it isn’t, like, acid rain. If I was right as acid rain, then I wouldn’t be alright, right?”

Woah. Emma was one of the most eloquent people I knew. She never talked in muddled up run-on sentences.

That was my job.

“Dude, you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” Emma said, rol ing her eyes. Her big, scared, open a bit too wide alien eyes.

Agitated ghosts, irritated witches, angry werewolves, and the horrors of high school were al things that I could face head on. But Emma’s bugged out alien eyes? That was truly spooky.

I tried to think of my biggest fear. What was making my spidey sense go al tingly? Why was Emma’s behavior making my skin itch?

Oh no. There was one thing I never thought that I’d have to worry about with Emma. I mean, of al my friends she was the most level headed. There was no way she’d go al crazy and start experimenting with something harder than herbal teas and tinctures, right?

“You’re not, like, on drugs, are you?” I asked. Oh yeah, Yuki. That was smooth.

“What?” she asked, indignant. Emma put her hands on her hips and glared at me.

I was never so happy to see the Emma glare…even if it was, for once, aimed at me.

“Never mind,” I mumbled. “So, uhm, you hungry?” I pul ed a granola bar from the side pocket of my backpack and waved it in front of Emma’s face. Food always works to distract me, so it was worth a try. Maybe she had skipped breakfast.

“You are not getting away with this that easily,” Emma said.

The hardness of her glare was beginning to soften, but she stil appeared irritated when she looked imperiously down at me with one eyebrow raised. How do people do that?

I began picking at my nail polish, trying to think of how to explain myself, but Emma let out a giggle.

“How could you think I was On The Drugs?” Emma asked. She imitated our old guidance counselor from middle school, which made me start to giggle too.

“Seriously, girl, I don’t know,” I said. I raised my hands in surrender and managed to drop my granola bar. “See, I’m a total mess. No way I’m thinking straight.”

“Obviously,” Emma said. She reached down and snatched my granola bar from the carpet. “This is payment for the insult.”

“No way!” I said, laughing. “That was my breakfast.”

“Halfsies?” Emma asked.

“Deal,” I agreed.

We ran to the car, but stil arrived late for school.

Emma was back to her normal, sensible self and drove the exact speed limit the entire way. I tried urging her to go faster, but she either didn’t listen or couldn’t understand what I was saying around my mouthful of granola bar.

The school lobby was already empty when my boots hit the tile. We didn’t have time to talk so we just waved as I ran toward homeroom hoping to beat the final tardy bel . I caught one last glimpse of Emma’s disheveled appearance as she disappeared down the east hal and felt a pang of worry.

She may have dodged my questions so far, but I would get to the bottom of this. Emma had always been there for me, no matter how weird or dangerous my problems were, and I wasn’t going to let her face whatever she was going through alone.

*****

My butt hit the seat just as the final tardy bel rang.

Phew! Saved by the bel . I was breathing heavy from my sprint down the school hal s and suddenly realized that I hadn’t had time to brush my teeth. Gross. I snuck a glance at Cal and hoped I didn’t have morning breath. He flashed me a toothy grin and I looked back to the front of the room where our teacher was droning on about an assembly later in the day.

I rested my chin on my hand and tried to turn my head and sneak a ninja stealthy breath check. Smells like granola bar…and motor oil.

Great, I either had motor oil breath or the ghost of Dylan Jacobs was back. I wondered if he was doomed to haunt the hal s of Wakefield High. The thought fil ed me with dread. Being