I push myself up on my elbows. “No.” My head drops back and I suck in a big lungful of air. By now Finn has reached us, and he kneels down next to me, kicking some glass out of the way before he does.
“Did you hit your head?” he asks, cradling it in his hand.
“No. Ben pulled me flat on my back.”
He looks over at Ben. “Thank you,” he says.
“You saved my life,” I add. “If that bar had hit my head, I’d be a goner.”
Ben makes a waving motion with his hand, like it’s no big deal.
“She’s right,” Finn says. His mouth turns down in a frown.
I waggle my brows at Ben. “Now who’s got the Spidey sense?”
He sits back on his heels, letting out a sigh of relief. “You must be all right if you’re making nerd jokes.”
“To tell you the truth, now that the adrenaline is leaving my system, I’m feeling kind of faint.” I look up at all the other students and adults who are now gathered around me. Mr. Green, the drama teacher, has come running from the back of the auditorium, along with the lady from the historical society, who was watching a scene rehearsal at the back of the stage.
“Oh, my dear!” she frets. “Goodness! Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay,” I reassure her.
“How did that happen?” Mr. Green asks. “Who was up there last?”
Finn makes a grim face. “I was. Chloe needed the lights adjusted, but she’s afraid of heights and asked me to do it. I thought they were secure when I moved them.”
“You have to retighten the bolts on the bar with a wrench if you’ve been moving them around and adjusting them,” Ben explains. “I worked lights for the last show. The mounting brackets on a lot of those are stripped. They can come loose if you don’t tighten them back down.”
Finn looks down at me, his face full of concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I sit up completely, rolling myself carefully onto my knees away from the pile of broken glass. “I’m okay. Really.”
“I’ll grab a broom,” Ben says, jogging over to the cabinet backstage.
Mr. Green shakes his head, still not over this. “You got cut,” he says. “Your palm is bleeding.”
I look down, and he’s right. “I put my hand up in front of my face when the glass started flying,” I say. “It’s just a nick.”
“I want you to go to the nurse.” Mr. Green is adamant. “She needs to look you over.”
“All right.”
He helps me up to my feet, and Finn reaches out, gently grasping my hand and flipping it over to look at my palm. Then his eyes meet mine.
“I’m sorry, Jessa.”
“I can walk her to the nurse,” Ben volunteers quickly. “She’s still not too steady on her feet.”
He hands Finn the broom, and Finn looks like he wants to object, but I let Ben wrap an arm around my shoulders and off we go.
“That was freaky,” Ben says as he leads me out the door. “You really should take it easy. You might have shaken something loose in that nerd brain of yours.”
I look up at him. “I didn’t know you ran lights for the last school play.”
“It was last semester,” he says. “Somebody got sick, so I was just helping out.”
“You can let go of me now,” I say. “I can walk fine.”
“Just making sure.” He frowns at me, and then his face brightens. “Hey, the lady from the historical society remembers you. Eversor showed her your ghost story, and she wants to use it on her ghost tour.”
“Really?” I know it’s not huge, but I’m stupidly pleased all the same.
“Really. She’s even giving you credit for it, too. She gave me free passes, if you want to go.”
“That’s this Friday, right? I can’t imagine it’ll be a problem. I’ll run it by my mom and let you know.”
“Good.” He opens the door to the nurse’s office. “If she clears you, I’ll pick you up at six. We can hit dinner before.”
“Okay.” My forehead creases as I realize I just got maneuvered into a date. Ben is looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Take it easy, St. Clair,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I mean it.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promise.
But I wonder how long that’ll last. Whoever is after me is getting braver—and closer.
The nurse lets me go with a Band-Aid, and Finn beats me to the doorway when our last class is done. He pulls me down the hall, out the doors and down the street to Mugsy’s, not even letting me stop at my locker.
He holds the door for me as we go in, and then he leans in and says, “You want to go someplace a little more … sparkly?”
I give an affirmative nod, and soon enough, we’re sliding into a high-polished chrome booth with cupcakes and glitter mousse on the table before us.
“Are you feeling all right?” he asks with concern. “That was another close call. Obviously our rogue Traveler is a lot closer to you than we think.”
“You think it’s someone in the school?” I ask.
“Possibly. Someone who could have maneuvered me into fixing that light bar.”
“Chloe?” I ask incredulously. “She doesn’t have a brain in her head.”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”