The Amanda Project: Book One

The Amanda Project: Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Maybe if I'd had a good night's sleep I wouldn't have minded waking up in spite of the weather, but in my exhausted state, the freezing rain and gale-level winds made getting myself out of bed feel like a nearly impossible feat. And one glance at my face was enough to make me want to crawl back into bed and never emerge from it again-my skin was pasty white, almost gray, and there were creepy dark circles under my eyes, as if looking for Amanda were turning me into some kind of vampire.

After I'd seen the writing on the wall, I rushed out of the bathroom, sure I'd find something that explained the message. But nothing had changed-the music blared, the audience was full of strangers. There was no indication that Amanda had ever set foot in there.

Except that she had. Or someone who knew her had.

I raced upstairs to find Hal and told him what I'd seen, and he went back downstairs to the guy's bathroom. But there was nothing written on any of the stalls in there, and a second circuit he did of the club proved as fruitless as the first.

"At least we know someone else is looking for her," he said when he came upstairs to meet me.

"Yes, but who? And why?" Finding this tiny clue was almost more frustrating than not finding anything at all. I wanted to tear my hair out.

"I'm going to text Nia," said Hal. He took out his phone. "Damn, I'm gonna be late. Look, are you okay biking home alone?"

Biking home alone seemed like the least of my problems at this point, so I just told him not to worry about it and got on my bike, thinking that what I needed was a restful night of sleep to make sense of everything. Unfortunately, I had the exact opposite of a restful night, and now I was as exhausted and wired and confused as I'd been since this whole nightmare had started.

Which wasn't exactly a great way to start the day.

I'd mentioned to my dad that I had to be at school early, but he was still sleeping, so I just pulled my mom's slicker over what I was wearing and climbed on my bike. It was really cold out-any promises the air had held that spring was coming had been totally obliterated by the storm-but pedaling all the way to school was hard work, and by the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was sweating underneath my heavy sweater and down vest. I'd only been awake for an hour, and all I wanted was to have another shower and get back into bed.

The parking lot only had a few cars in it-usually there's a lot going on at Endeavor on the weekends, like rehearsals and yearbook meetings and practices, but apparently March was a slow month, or maybe it was too early in the morning for any non-punitive school activities. I saw Thornhill's car parked in its usual spot in the faculty parking lot, and again I couldn't help thinking about the letter that the three of us might or might not have seen in it. If ever there was a good day to break into the vice principal's car, it would be today, but no sooner had I had the thought than I pushed it out of my head. What were we supposed to do if we broke into the car and didn't find the letter-was his house going to be next?

Nia and Hal were already sitting in their seats from last week when I pushed open the door of the library. There were four other kids there, three guys and one girl, none of whom I recognized; I wondered what their crimes were in Thornhill's eyes. Nia and Hal and I made eye contact, but even though Thornhill wasn't sitting at his desk at the front of the room, I was too scared of his catching us talking when he walked in to say anything to them. One of the guys was sitting where I'd been last week, so I just picked another table in the back.