Free Rebel Belle by Rachel Hawkins Page A

churchy people.” Other, less nice, people called them “the Jesus freaks.” Basically, if I were looking for one of the nicest people at the Grove, Liz was it.
So that’s why I did feel bad when I fished a pen out of my bag and chucked it at her, figuring that if I were Paladin of the Grove, it would stop about an inch from all that shiny blonde hair.
It didn’t.
I flinched as the pen smacked Liz right in the back of her head. She gave a startled cry and whirled around, hand on her head, eyes full of not-so-churchy anger.
“Harper?”
My teacher, Mrs. Ford, was looking at me with total confusion. “Harper,” she said again, “did you just  .  .  . did you just throw a pen at Liz?”
Now the whole class was looking at me. I turned on my best smile and said, “Oh, my gosh, no, Mrs. Ford! I was just . . . um . . . writing really fast because there was so much information to take in, and I had, like, some lotion? On my hands? Anyway, the pen flew out of my hand and hit Liz.” I turned to Liz. “Really sorry about that. Total accident.”
“It’s okay,” Liz said, but she was scowling and rubbing the back of her head.
Mrs. Ford was watching me like I had just sprouted a second head, but she eventually shrugged and said, “Well, be more careful.”
“Will do!” I chirped. Then I turned back to my notebook, my heart pounding and my mouth dry. Holy crap.
I had a noble cause, all right. But it wasn’t Grove Academy.
It was David Stark.

Chapter 7
    I spent the next three classes pretty out of it. For the first time in history, I took absolutely no notes. I just sat and stared and thought.
    Mr. Hall had been protecting David. Dr. DuPont had been trying to kill David. I now had to protect David. Other people would probably try to kill him. But why? I mean, yes, David Stark  was annoying, but that didn’t make him worth killing . And if Mr. Hall had been protecting him, had he chosen to? Because I sure as heck hadn’t chosen this. What would happen if I just . . . didn’t? Or could I pass the powers on to someone else?
    By the time the bells rang for lunch, one thing was abundantly clear to me:
I needed my mentor-person right now . I had figured out as much as I possibly could, so it was time for my Giles or my Professor X or whoever to get here and start explaining.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and started heading to lunch when it occurred to me that it wasn’t like my Giles/Professor X could just come sashaying into the cafeteria amidst a hundred teenagers. No, I’d have to be on my own.
The problem was—where? The Grove was so small that there were very few places without students lurking. I stood on the steps of Wallace Hall, looking down at the courtyard, which was already filling up. Any minute now, Ryan, Bee, and Brandon would be here. I looked over to Nash, the building that housed the cafeteria and the fine arts classrooms—and the only building on campus that even I had to admit was ugly, all short and squat—and saw Bee coming out the door, a Styrofoam box in her hand. Amanda, Abigail, and Mary Beth were all surrounding her, and she was looking over her shoulder and laughing at someone behind her. Brandon, probably, which meant Ryan wasn’t far behind.
For a second, I thought about going over to meet them. I even started down the steps. But when I got to the bottom, instead of heading across the courtyard, I found myself turning left and heading for the chapel that was in the very back corner of campus. Of course! The chapel was only used for assemblies, so it was deserted most of the time. Plus, the back of it faced the woods. If ever there were a perfect place to wait for superhero instructions, that was it.
The chapel was actually really pretty, and it was a shame that we didn’t use it very often. It was built out of pale gray stone, and there were stained glass windows running down each side. As I walked around toward the back, I decided that at the next SGA meeting, I would