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could set Althea free. Free from the hostile cafeteria, free from loneliness. You give me Celeste, and I will give you popularity.
    Althea fastened her eyes on Celeste. Althea’s whispery tremor, deep in her throat, sounded frightening and mysterious. “Nobody ever has. It’s a family tradition. The shutters in the Shuttered Room stay shuttered.” She smiled, first at Celeste, then at Michael.
    The kids laughed, repeating the rule like a tongue twister. Susie sells seashells on the seashore. The shutters in the Shuttered Room stay shuttered.
    The bell rang, and the kids dispersed, as even popular groups must, for class or gym or art or library. Michael strode blithely alone down the hall, headed for something special, no doubt; he could not possibly take dull repetitive classes the way she had to. Ryan was bouncier; he lunged in the other direction, as if he had athletic records to set. Kimmie-Jo was sultry, stunning, the way she always was, sitting, walking, or cheering. Becky, another cheerleader, popped out of a classroom door, and Becky and Kimmie-Jo hugged with that relaxed affection popular people show each other. Unpopular people who did that would just be pathetic.
    Althea caught up to Celeste and walked on with her. Think companionable thoughts, Althea told herself. Don’t let Celeste see through you. Say something normal. “You know which one my house is,” Althea said, “but I don’t know where you live.”
    Celeste made a face. Even pouting, she was very pretty. “Way out of town, Althea. Miles and miles. I hate living there. I can never go anywhere unless somebody’s willing to drive me. They’re always willing the first time, but they make that trip once and they’re not so willing a second time.”
    She’s confiding in me, Althea thought. She’s treating me like a friend.
    Maybe she would not have to deliver Celeste to the vampire after all! She and Celeste would become friends, and that would be the door through which Althea entered popularity.
    “Ryan came once, and after that, he’s just been ‘busy.’” Celeste sighed deeply, very sorry for herself. “And Becky—well, she came once, and when I asked her to drive me again, she frowned and said my parents would have to bring me to the party.”
    Had she been asked to a party of Becky’s, Althea would have slogged across swamps and swum rivers. She was supposed to feel sorry for Celeste, all because Celeste had to get party transportation from relatives? “That’s rough,” said Althea sympathetically.
    “And you heard Michael say he’d drive me, but he’s dating Constance, of course, and I can hardly ask him to pick up Constance first and then come for me.”
    So Michael was dating Constance. Constance was one of those overwhelming people who was simply brilliant at simply everything. There was not an activity in which she did not shine, not a subject in which she was not a scholar, not a sport in which she did not excel. Constance was lovely and willowy, strong and interesting, funny and sweet.
    Of course Michael was dating Constance.
    Althea was exhausted by the mere thought of Constance.
    Celeste gave several more examples of how unpleasant it was to live so many miles out in the country. It became increasingly difficult to grieve for somebody who had been asked to three events last weekend and could get transportation to just two of them.
    “After school today,” said. Althea, “would you like to come over to my house?”
    Celeste gave Althea a dazzling, sparkling smile. It was a smile on a par with Michael’s: a world-class welcome of a smile. Althea warmed inside, forgave Celeste for whining, and thought of friendship.
    “You’re so sweet, Althea,” said Celeste. “That’s so nice of you. But I have cheerleading practice, of course.”

Chapter 3
    A FTER SCHOOL ALTHEA DID not go home. She drove around town in a jealous rage. Street after street passed beneath her tires, like some great black, bleak grid of life.
    If