Free Betrayal by Lee Nichols

over to the bleachers on the other side of the room, and in a minute Natalie came and sat beside me.
    â€œAre you okay?” she asked.
    â€œI’m fine,” I said.
    â€œYou could’ve defended yourself.”
    â€œI deserved it,” I said.
    â€œNo, Emma, that’s where you’re wrong.”
    Someone stole my lunch. My locker had definitely been compromised, and I vowed to carry a bigger bag, so I wouldn’t have to use it anymore. Anatole always packed loads too much, so Natalie shared with me.
    We sat in the corner of the cafeteria, which was nothing like the cafeterias I’d grown up with. It was more like a quaint dining room. There were no gray-haired lunch ladies slopping peas into trays, just the unscrewing of thermoses and quiet tinkling of silverware brought from home. Not wanting to call attention to myself, I answered Natalie’s forays into conversation with monosyllables. I was reminding myself of Bennett.
    â€œI like the lemon dressing on the salad.”
    â€œMm.”
    â€œGood grapes.”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œWant some more chicken?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œYou’re thinking about Bennett, aren’t you?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    I glanced up and saw Sara and Harry frowning at me from across the room. They were backlit by the windows, and for once the sun was shining, making them look like avenging angels. I just couldn’t take it anymore.
    â€œI’ve gotta go,” I told Natalie. I stood and helped her pack up the remains of the lunch, then started for the door.
    I almost made it. I was three steps away when a foot came out from one of the tables and tripped me. I fell to my knees and, as though I was still six years old, I almost burst into tears.
    â€œThis is pathetic,” Natalie said, standing and facing the rest of the cafeteria. “I’m only going to say this once. Emma is not responsible for Coby’s death. He almost killed her by tying her to that torture device you people call a monument. She barely escaped, then Coby took his own life. She doesn’t deserve this. It’s not her fault he’s dead. Mourn him, but don’t smite her. Coby wouldn’t have wanted that.”
    When she’d finished, she led me from the room with her back erect and head high, like a queen having issued her edict.
    â€œYou were awesome,” I said in the hallway outside. “I’ve never heard anyone use the word smite .”
    She grinned. “Old habits die hard.” Then she grew serious. “This is going to blow over, Em. Things will get better.”
    â€œI know,” I said.
    But in Western Civ, someone had carved QBK into my desk. I just wished I knew when they’d get better.
    After school, I dragged my laptop into the museum kitchen. I bit into an apple and sat in the breakfast nook, scanning my messages. Hoping to hear from Bennett.
    He hadn’t e-mailed, of course—but Abby had. Which surprised me, because she’d kind of deserted me. She was a ghostkeeper, too. Sort of. We’d been best friends forever, until she’d hooked up with Max last summer. That’s when she’d discovered she could summon ghosts, though I didn’t know at the time, because I was still in the dark about my own powers.
    I guess Max had freaked out, accused Abby of stealing his powers, and dumped her. But Abby hated seeing ghosts, and was trying to lose her powers altogether. She was weak, so if anything, Max would’ve absorbed her abilities. But they’d both acted like drama queens, so that simple solution had never occurred to them.
    Hey Emma,
    I can’t see ghosts anymore!!!
    This cute guy knocked on my dorm-room door last night and offered to cure me. I kind of freaked out, because I didn’t understand how he could know that I saw ghosts. But they were still coming to me in my dreams, and I was just desperate enough to believe him.
    It worked, Emma. We held hands and he