Free Trail of Secrets by Brenda Chapman

the principal’s office after school for an hour of verb conjugation. Today, they were subdued and had stopped calling out ridiculous French answers that had nothing to do with the lesson Madame Grégoire was trying to teach. She had that determined look on her face that new teachers get when they’ve had enough of having their buttons pushed. I figured she might make it as a teacher after all.
    Ambie was already in her desk in English class when I settled into mine. She leaned over and said, “Did you hear about Evan Quinn?”
    â€œNo, what now?” Something in her tone told me this wasn’t going to be good.
    â€œHe started acting all weird last period, and his sister had to take him home.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, weird?”
    â€œI don’t know exactly. Disoriented and staggering around.”
    â€œHe seemed fine first period. I wonder what happened.”
    â€œEveryone thinks he’s crazy and into things he shouldn’t be messing with. You should be careful around him, Jen.”
    â€œDo you think he’s crazy, Ambie?”
    â€œI don’t know him well enough to say, but his reputation isn’t good.”
    I opened my copy of
Hamlet
, but the words on the page swam in front of my eyes. I didn’t want Evan to be weird. I didn’t want Mom and Leslie to live in Los Angeles and Pete to live in Montreal. All these awful, unchangeable things were piling up and threatening to collapse on me.
    I heard Ambie’s voice soften. “Meet you after school,Jen. We’ll go to my house and talk things over.” Her eyes were filled with concern.
    â€œI’m okay, Ambie. I’ll meet you in our usual spot.”
    From that moment on, I lost my ability to concentrate. Good thing the weekend started at four o’clock. I was going to need a few days to regroup.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    I sat in my usual chair under the window while Ambie sat facing me cross-legged on her bed. Today Mrs. Guido had baked peanut butter cookies, and I managed to eat four, along with a tall glass of milk. I sighed happily and repositioned myself to stretch my legs over the arm of the chair.
    Ambie absentmindedly flipped through a
Teen Rocks
magazine as she talked. “So what do you think is going on with Evan and Karly Quinn? I hear you’ve been seen talking with Evan. The gossip lines are buzzing.”
    I shrugged. “There are some things that are hard to explain, but I don’t buy into the crime syndicate theory.”
    â€œWhat about his strange behaviour yesterday? Cindy was there and said he was acting all freaky, like he was high on something.”
    This worried me more than anything, but not because I thought he was dangerous. “I hope he’s okay,” I said.
    â€œYeah, well, who’s being naive now?” Ambie asked, smiling. She was the one with the reputation for being a pushover when it came to trusting people. She added, “You’re going to ignore all the warning signs and decide to like Evan Quinn?”
    â€œI calls ’em like I sees ’em,” I said, doing my best toughguy imitation. “If you must know, I feel kind of sorry for him. It’s hard trying to make friends in a small town when you don’t fit the mould. Besides, he’s kind of interesting.”
    â€œInteresting but weird.”
    â€œMaybe what everyone thinks of as weird is just unique,” I said. “Everybody doesn’t have to be the same to . . . oh, I don’t know . . . be normal.”
    â€œThank goodness for that,” Ambie breathed.
    â€œAny more e-mails from Martin Donaldson?” I asked, ready to move on to a new topic.
    Ambie threw down the magazine and flopped back on the bed. “No. I think he’s gone back to Hong Kong. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
    â€œAre you okay with that, Amb?”
    â€œWhatever. Still, I was hoping I could get to know my real dad at