Free The Stranger by Caroline B. Cooney Page B

It wasn’t enough that she would be saddled with one friend; now there were two. They slammed their doors hard enough to rock the little car and purposely leapt onto untouched snow, rather than using the path, tagging each other and giggling.
    She was framed in the doorway anyhow; there was no escape; so she flung it open and said hi.
    “Nickie!” they cried. “You have to tell us everything. We’re dying to hear about it.”
    Her heart tightened. How could Rachel and Cath know? She had said nothing! Only Christo had been there, and he’d had no sense of what was going on. He’d been too in love with Nicoletta to see anything.
    And yet Rachel and Cathy knew.
    Nicoletta struggled to remain composed. She could not talk to anybody until she had talked to Jethro. That was all, that was that.
    Rachel flung her arms around Nicoletta. “It’s terrible not to see you all the time,” she said. “We’re so out of touch. Now get inside where it’s toasty-oasty warm and tell us all about it.” Rachel shoved Nicoletta into her own house.
    Cathy tap-danced after them. “You’re so lucky, Nickie,” she said, admiring her own steps. “Did you dance all night?”
    They even knew that she had danced under the moon and across the snow!
    “Hi, Jamie,” said Rachel. “Are you still worthless or have you improved since we saw you last?”
    “I’m flawless,” said Jamie. “Get out of my living room. I’m watching television. But if you pay me, I’ll describe Christo’s good-night kiss. It was very long and—“
    Christo.
    This was about Christo! The dance at Top o’ the Town. Not the dance to find Jethro.
    Nicoletta surfaced. It was sticky coming up, as if, like the pancake men, she had drowned under syrup.
    How quickly can I get rid of them? she wondered. She would have to give them every detail, assuming she could remember any details; and then what excuse could she use to make them leave her alone? She wondered if there was any way she could get Rachel to drive her to the dead-end road, save her that long hike. She could think of no way to explain being dropped off there.
    “And then,” said Jamie, accepting a pack of Starburst candy in payment, “Christo staggered back to the car like a drunk. Except he was drunk with Nickie.” Jamie laughed insanely. “Men,” she said, shaking her head in dismay. Clearly she had expected men to have higher standards in love than her own sister.
    “Oh, that’s beautiful,” sighed Cathy. “Come on, Nickie, into your room for your version. We’ve already had Christo’s and now Jamie’s.”
    “You’ve already had Christo’s?”
    “Of course. We had an extra rehearsal this morning. At Anne-Louise’s. She has the most wonderful house, Nickie. It’s on Fairest Lane, as a matter-of-fact. Her family bought the house three down from your old one, and her living room is huge. The whole chorus can fit in easily. Plus she has a grand piano, not to mention a fabulous electric keyboard. There’s nothing that keyboard isn’t programmed to do.”
    “Cathy,” muttered Rachel. “I don’t think Nickie is thrilled to hear that.”
    Cathy apologized desperately.
    “It doesn’t matter,” said Nicoletta. It didn’t. All that mattered was getting to the boulder, the path, the two lakes, the cave.
    And Jethro.
    Is he the monster? she thought. How can he be? How can anybody be?
    “So,” said Rachel, hugging herself with eagerness. She lowered her voice. Excitedly she whispered, “Are you in love with him?”
    Nicoletta stared into the faces of her former friends. Still friends, she supposed. Friends because they had not forgotten her … and yet, friends she’d forgotten.
    Am I in love with him? she thought. Which him do we mean?
    She told them many lies. At the time she uttered each sentence, she swore to remember it, so they wouldn’t know she was lying, but she tripped continually. She could not remember one lie even through the following lie.
    Cathy and Rachel thought it