“QUIET!” Ms. Rowan shrieks from the desk. “This is a library!”
Jax winks at us. “See? Unfairly targeted. Model citizen, right here.”
As he bends to pick up a book, the stolen tape that is tucked into the back of his waistband beneath his shirt shifts.
“What are you planning to do with that?” I ask.
“With what?”
“The tape you stole.”
“I’m borrowing it.”
“That’s still stealing,” Ivan says. “It’s school property.”
Jax groans. “I’ll bring it back. You two are intense.”
“If by intense you mean having morals, then yes,” Ivan replies.
“What’s so special about it?” I ask.
Jax leans closer to the cart, his voice dropping. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
We keep shelving as he talks, as if we’re not paying attention.
“You ever heard of the Knotted-Hair Girl?” he asks.
Ivan drops a book.
“No,” I say. “Who?”
The boys exchange a look.
Ivan clears his throat. “She disappeared twenty years ago. People said she heard The Pit calling her.”
“So it’s another story about someone running away,” I say.
“You don’t believe it?”
“Of course not.”
Jax’s grin sharpens. “They say it happened on senior dance night. Full moon. She walked out the back door and never came back.”
“And?” I ask.
“And the tape I took—” He taps the back of his shirt. “Dance Night. Twenty years ago.”
I stare at him. “You’re saying?—”
“Worth checking out,” he says. Then nods toward Ivan. “Worth bending a rule or two.”
“You should leave that stuff alone,” I breathe.
Jax glances at me. “Worried?”
“Not worried, just not stupid.”
