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ended a little after eight o’clock. All over the auditorium, kids were picking up their backpacks, preparing to go home and do their homework. Even though we’re almost out of here, we still have term papers to write and final exams.
    Across the room near the stage, I glimpsed Vincent. He was performing for a group of girls.Some kind of wild dance, flinging his arms up in the air, shaking his whole body.
    They were laughing and shaking their heads. One of them tried dancing with him but couldn’t keep up. Everyone thinks Vincent is so cute—because he is.
    How come he never wants to dance with me?
    I hoisted up my backpack and caught up to Hillary in front of the stage. “Wait up! What’s your hurry?” I called.
    She untangled her long braid from her backpack strap. “It’s so hot in here,” she complained. “And I didn’t think rehearsal would go this long. I’ve got a ton of French to do.”
    Hillary narrowed her eyes at me. She picked a white ball of lint off the front of my tank top. “How come you look so tired, Julie?”
    â€œI didn’t sleep very well last night,” I told her, surprised that it showed. That’s when I told her about my Sandy dream and the snap snap of the blinds.
    She shuddered. “I can’t stop thinking about it, either,” she confessed. “I mean, every time I run into Sandy now, I feel kind of sick. I get this heavy feeling in my stomach.”
    â€œI know,” I agreed, pressing my back against the front of the stage to let some kids squeeze past. “When I see him, I think, ‘You’re not Sandy anymore. You’re a murderer. You’re not the guy I used to know, the guy I used to like.’”
    â€œI—I guess I feel especially bad,” Hillary stammered, “because he thinks he did it for me. He thinks I wanted someone to kill Al.” She sighed. “Ithought we knew Sandy. How could someone we know so well be a … killer?”
    I didn’t have an answer to that question. “I agree with you now,” I told Hillary. “I mean, about him confessing to us. At first, I thought it was okay. But now I’m sorry he decided to tell us.”
    â€œIt’s like the secret is inside me,” Hillary said. “It’s growing … growing. It’s bursting to get out. It was so unfair of Sandy. So totally unfair.”
    â€œAnd now he comes to graduation rehearsal, and goofs with everyone, and kids around, and acts as if everything is fine,” I continued. “If he can get over it, why can’t we?”
    Hillary started to reply—but stopped with her mouth open.
    A shadow fell over us.
    Someone was standing above us on the stage. I realized it at the same time as Hillary.
    I turned. Raised my eyes.
    And saw Taylor.
    Half-hidden by the heavy, maroon curtain. She ducked quickly out of sight as I turned.
    Taylor.
    Hillary and I exchanged glances. I knew the same questions were in our minds:
    How long had she been standing there? What had she heard?
    Had she heard everything we said about Sandy?
    Would she tell him?
    I felt a cold shiver roll slowly down my back.
    If she did tell him, what would Sandy do?

Chapter
    14

    â€œI ’m actually afraid of Sandy now,” I told Hillary. “I’m afraid of what he’s thinking. Of what he might do.”
    We were walking down Park Drive, heading toward our houses. I didn’t feel like waiting for the bus. It came only once every half hour this time of night. And I suddenly felt eager to get away from the school.
    â€œHow can he sleep at night?” I asked her. “How can he say good morning to his mom and dad, knowing what he did? How can he come to school and kid around? How can he concentrate on his work? If I—if I killed someone, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. My life would be over.”
    â€œI know what you mean,” Hillary said, adjusting her backpack