Telling Elle
Lainie arrived at school after her sleepless night to find it had transformed from a place that reminded her of gym socks and gray lunchmeat into a place of infinite potential and charm, all because theoretically at any moment a boy named Seth Watson might pass by. Why did Elle and Violet have the luck to be in classes with him? During math Lainie daydreamed, trying to imagine Seth speaking French. She wondered if she could teach herself a year and a half of French over the holidays and transfer into his class. She pictured his surprise and happiness as she sat down across from him and chatted fluently. “Bonjour! Baguette! Ooh la la! Voulez-vous la croissant? Merci, my petite éclair. Parlez-vous?” Her extensive knowledge of French pastries would give her a good head start.
But it was a big school, and they rarely crossed paths. Today Lainie could count her Seth sightings on two fingers. Once, she had seen him but he hadn’t seen her; another time, he’d nodded and said “Hey!” as they were hurrying to class in opposite directions. They still hadn’t fixed a time and place for him to show Lainie his papers and photos. But it was just as well. If they had a chance to talk, she would probably only find herself spinning a bigger web of lies. For now, she had to focus on her two-point plan.
At lunch, she found Elle in the cafeteria and nudged her away from the table they usually shared with friends. “We have to talk,” she said. They set their trays on a smaller table near the parking lot windows, and amid the din of hundreds of kids eating lunch, Lainie told Elle everything. When she got to the part about Maddie’s first message, in the bathroom mirror, Elle put down her sandwich, and when Lainie was finished talking it still lay untouched.
Elle looked at her helplessly. “Lainie, this is the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. And I don’t mean I believe some ghost is talking to you. It’s scary because so far every scientific indication is that such events are impossible in actuality. Are you, like, terrified?”
“I don’t think I am anymore,” Lainie replied, realizing that it was true. “It’s more like I’m angry. And sort of jazzed. This stuff is coming from somewhere, and whatever it is that’s messing with me, I want it to stop. I say bring it! I’m almost looking forward to the next time. I want more clues. I feel like I’m on the verge of something. But right now,” she choked up a little on the words, “I need help. I cannot talk to my dad. He’s two weeks away from finishing his book and it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. His whole career hangs on it. Not to mention that he’s responsible for supporting the Uncs and me. If I tell him all this, he might lose focus and stop working on it and miss the editor’s deadline and it won’t be published and he’ll lose his job and we’ll have to move into a shelter or something and—”
“OK—I get all that,” said Elle. “But you have to admit all this sounds pretty crazy.” She frowned. “Of course I’ll help you. But”—she pointed a finger at Lainie—“if these hallucinations get to be a thing, you have to tell your dad.”
“No!” insisted Lainie. “If that’s the deal, I’ll just end up hiding stuff from you. Then I won’t have anyone to keep an eye on me.”
Elle thought about it, then sighed. “Two weeks,” she said.
“Deal!” Lainie launched herself across the table and hugged her friend, who laughed.
“So what exactly am I supposed to help you with?” Elle asked.
Lainie told her about wanting to look for some kind of book, and what a huge task that would be. “I mean, the house is filled with nooks and crannies and secret places. I probably know twenty places to hide things, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there are twenty more I don’t know.”
“You really believe there’s a book?” Elle asked.
Lainie slowly nodded. “It’s like—it’s hard to explain, but a couple of times I’ve had a very strong feeling that all this has something to do with something I can’t remember. And that’s what Maddie keeps saying. I start to remember, but nothing comes to me.”
“Any way to narrow down what kind of book to look for? I mean, your house has a lot of books already just sitting out in plain sight.”
“Nope,” Lainie admitted. “But I have a feeling we’ll know it when we see it.”
