Ten Read Free Page A

I never actually thought you were.”
    â€œBut I don’t understand this whole haunted-house thing. Haunted houses are for Halloween.”
    Then why did you ask for three tattoos? I was tempted to ask, and I would have if I, myself, weren’t also tattooed to the hilt.
    â€œHaunted houses are for Halloween,” I said. “You’re right.”
    â€œThen why—”
    â€œHowever!” I cried, whipping one finger high into the air. “They’re not just for Halloween, now are they?” I took that finger and pointed it dead at Louise. “Do you think ghosts just lollygag about for the three-hundred-and-sixtyfour days of the year that aren’t Halloween?”
    â€œWell—”
    Jab went my finger. “Are witches not allowed out except on October thirty-first? Isn’t that a little unfair?”
    â€œI just—”
    â€œEx act ly,” I said. My finger was a sword, and I the swordsman. Swordsgirl . Whatever. “So let’s just keep our Negative Nelly thoughts to ourselves, shall we?” I waggled my eyebrows. “Unless you’re too afraid ? Is that what you’re trying to say, Louise?”
    She gave me a look, because we both knew she wasn’t. Louise wasn’t as brave as I was, perhaps, but she was certainly no chicken. Once she faked being sick during PE because she didn’t want to play dodgeball. She said, “Oh dear, I feel faint,” and she collapsed on the floor and didn’t open her eyes even when people poked her. One girl even nudged Louise’s ribs with her sneaker, and Louise still kept her eyes shut. And the girl with the sneaker was me.
    I went back and forth between admiring Louise and finding her annoying. Often it was both.
    â€œYou are so weird, Winnie,” she pronounced from her spot at the top of the staircase.
    Karen giggled, and so did Chantelle . My stomach muscles fluttered, because was this what Mom meant about how life might be hard for a girl like me? A girl who was her own self, that is, and thought haunted houses in March were fine?
    I glanced past my friends, anxiously seeking out Mom. She was at the back of the group with Ty, and when our eyes met, she gave me a private, knowing smile. We prefer the term *unique*, don’t we? her smile said . Stand tall, my Winnie. You are fabulous, and I love you.
    My chest swelled. I stood tall. Shifting my gaze back to Louise, I said, “Of course I’m weird. You’re just now figuring that out?” I clapped twice. “Now, enough with the chitchat. This is serious business here, people.”
    I started down the basement stairs. We passed the secret trapdoor, and Amanda said, “Inside that door, there’s dirt.”
    â€œYep,” I confirmed.
    A few feet farther, the stairwell curved to the left, and the inside edges of the stairs grew narrower than ever.
    â€œIf you need to, you can hold onto the wall for balance,” I said, demonstrating. The deeper we went, the cooler it got. The air smelled different, too.
    At last I reached the bottommost stair. In front of me was the thick wooden door that led into the basement—or, as Mom and Dad called it, the furnace room . Because it wasn’t a basement like normal people’s basements. There were no Ping-Pong tables or flat-screen TVs or smooshy sofas. There was just . . . dum dum dum . . . the furnace: huge, ancient, and growly. And today, behind the furnace?
    Sandra , lying in wait in her full witchy glory.
    My heart pounded, and I already knew what was coming.
    I waited until everyone was clumped together. I put my hand on the brass doorknob. “Ready?”
    â€œYou already asked us that, and yes ,” Louise said.
    â€œI’m not,” Dinah said, squeezing up next to me and Amanda. Her skin was moist, and she had a big grin on her face. Her chest went up and down, up and down. “It’s not going to be bad, is it?”
    â€œWell, yes,