Free Paula Morris by Ruined

the storm?"
    "Yes -- well, it was damaged." Lisette seemed uncertain.
"Part of the roof is gone. And there was some water."
    "How awful!" It was bad enough being away from home for
six months, Rebecca thought. But how could Lisette have slept in the cemetery
for so long without anyone finding out or coming to look for her? "What
about your family?"
    Lisette shook her head. "I don't have any family. There was
just me and my mother, and she's been dead a long time."
    "I'm an only child, too," Rebecca told her. "It's
just me and my father. We live in New York -- well, we do usually. He
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    had to go to China and I had to come here. That's another long and
stupid story. Is your house -- I mean, was it close by? I thought this area
didn't flood."
    "It didn't," said Lisette. "My house is a long way
away, on the Creole side of town. It might be all right now. I don't really
know."
    This confused Rebecca. She didn't know New Orleans well enough to
know where, exactly, the Creole part of town was. Maybe Lisette had to walk all
this way just to reach dry land, though that seemed unlikely. And why take
sanctuary in a cemetery, of all places? Why not go back to see if your house
had been fixed? Maybe Lisette was hiding from someone. Maybe she was too scared
to go home.
    But before Rebecca could ask any more questions, Lisette's sweet
smile disappeared and she held a finger to her lips. Above the steady singing
of insects, there were other sounds -- the crunch of leaves and twigs
underfoot, the hum of talk and laughter, the clinking of bottles. Rebecca
flicked off her flashlight.
    "They come by this tomb sometimes," Lisette whispered.
"Helena Bowman and the others."
    "Do they talk to you?"
    Lisette shook her head. "They've never seen me."
    Rebecca's mind started racing: Like Lisette, she'd rather make
herself scarce than face Marianne and her smug band of friends. Sure, over here
she couldn't be accused of eavesdropping, but Rebecca didn't want to have to
answer any rude questions. They might say she'd followed them in; Anton might
have seen her running down the street last
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    week. Maybe he'd recognize her and denounce her in front of his
awful friends.
    "Helena's not here tonight," Rebecca whispered back to
Lisette, and then she wondered: Why did a girl from a far-off neighborhood --
who spent all her time, apparently, hiding out in the cemetery -- know Helena,
of all people, by name?
    "Good," said Lisette, half to herself.
    "But we have to get out of here before the rest of them see
us," said Rebecca, forgetting to lower her voice. The voices were getting
closer, and Rebecca felt sick with anxiety, looking around for the best escape
route. Strangely enough, Lisette didn't seem spooked at all. Didn't she always
try to avoid them? "Quick -- they're coming!"
    Lisette gave an enigmatic smile, her teeth white as the moonlight.
She reached out one hand to Rebecca.
    "Keep still and say nothing," she said in a low voice,
taking Rebecca's hand. Her grasp was surprisingly cool for such a warm and
sticky night. "Believe me. They won't see you if you're with me."
    Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. Anton
and the others were approaching, swarming up the steps and around the tomb like
invading cockroaches. Toby was ineptly juggling two empty beer bottles, and
Julie was laughing at his near misses. Anton was deep in conversation with
another boy, stopping just a few feet from where Lisette and Rebecca stood.
Nobody said a word to them.
    Rebecca's heart was hammering, and she realized she was gripping
Lisette's hand very hard. She swung around to look
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    at her new friend, and Lisette smiled, shaking her head, as if to
remind Rebecca to keep quiet. But this was ridiculous: It couldn't be long
before someone noticed them lurking in the shadows. However still Rebecca tried
to stand, her legs were trembling like trees in a rainstorm. These kids might
be self-absorbed -- and some of them might even be drunk -- but they weren't