Brian examined it. On the front was a drawing of a bright green creature that looked like a cross between a dinosaur and a dragon. It was swimming, with a big toothy smile.
Over this picture were the words
MEET CHAMP: THE LEGENDARY MONSTER OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN.
Brian snorted. Champ was the Vermont Loch Ness monster. There were lots of Vermont restaurants and car washes called Champ’s. Ollie peered over his shoulder. “I met Champ at a baseball game when I was five years old,” she said. “He was furry and green and wore a striped jersey.” Champ was, among other things, the mascot of Vermont’s minor league team.
“Well,” said Coco’s mom. “If you open the brochure, there’s this guy, Dane Dimmonds—he owns a boat named Cassandra on Lake Champlain. Sails out of Burlington. He has a business called Champ Tours. Takes out tourists, tells people the history of the lake, points out places that are associated with legends of the Abenaki. And places where people have reported Champ sightings. Supposedly. Anyway. I’m going to do an article for the paper about Mr. Dimmonds. I’ll spend a day on the Cassandra, take his tour, and write about it. But the boat’s pretty big—I thought we could all go. Roger?” This was to Ollie’s dad. “Make a day of it. What do you think, kids? Win? Amelia?”
“Yes, for sure,” said Mr. Adler. “This weekend?”
Ms. Zintner nodded.
“I don’t think we have anything else going on,” said Mr. Adler. “Ollie?”
“Yeah!” said Ollie. “Sounds fun.” She eyed the black, streaming windows. “I mean, if it gets warmer and stops raining.”
“For sure,” said Ms. Zintner, and shivered too. “But the forecast is good this weekend.” She smiled at Ollie, and Ollie smiled back, a little uncertainly. Ollie’s dad and Coco’s mom liked each other. They like liked each other. Ollie hadn’t been okay with that at first, but she was trying really hard. So was Ms. Zintner. Sometimes they tried so hard that it was awkward. But at least they were trying.
Brian was delighted, i
magining a day of open water and bright sun. Where nothing could get at them, nothing could knock on a locked door and scratch and leave creepy paper behind. A day of fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun. But he looked at his own parents and found them exchanging glances. “I’m sorry,” said Brian’s dad. “We have plans this weekend.”
Brian stared. He didn’t know about any plans. And he really wanted to go sailing.
“I didn’t know we had plans,” he said.
“We have to uncover the shrubs,” said his mother very firmly. “And weed the garden beds. Summer season will be here before you know it. And your grades are slipping. You need to stay home and study.”
Brian bit his tongue. It wasn’t like his grades were bad. Neither were Ollie’s and Coco’s. But grades were another thing that all three of them had let slip that winter. Brian didn’t want to stay home and study. He wanted to go sailing.
“I’ll study extra hard the day after—” began Brian, but even as he said it, he knew that it was no good.
“We’ll talk about it, don’t worry,” said his mother in the voice that meant no, and took a very decided bite of her pizza.
The conversation turned to a different topic, and Brian was left with Ollie and Coco shooting him sympathetic looks over the table.
3
COCO KEPT THE black circle. “I have some ideas,” she said, holding it by the corner as though she didn’t want to touch it. Even after the girls left and the circle was gone, Brian could still almost see it, floating in front of his eyes like a sunspot. Sun—he wanted to be out in the sun, on open water, where nothing could get him, or scare him, or snatch him.
“But why can’t I go sailing?” Brian asked his parents. “It’s not like I’m failing school. It’s not even like my grades are bad! B’s aren’t bad.”
“They’re not what you’re capable of,” pointed out his mother. She was making tea with pale green leaves. The sweet, grassy smell filled the kitchen. “Besides . . .” She hesitated and glanced at Brian’s dad.
“Brian,” said his dad. “I’m not sure those girls are good for you.”
This was completely out of the blue, and Brian was left gaping, speechless. Finally, he managed to sputter, “What?”
“It’s like this,” said his mom. “You started spending time with those girls in the fall. And since then your grades are worse, you’re over at Olivia Adler’s house every afternoon if you don’t go to Coco’s or bring them here. And you’re different. You used to love hockey, and this season you didn’t even seem to care how the team did. You ignore your old friends. And you only read books about ghosts. Scary things. You used to love fiction! What changed? Brian, we’re worried.”
I’m worried too, Brian thought. Part of him wanted to confess everything in one big speech. Remember when we disappeared last autumn . . . ? But Ollie’s sharp question was clear in his mind: What if he nabs them instead of us? For a minute he was so torn he could hardly make himself talk.
“It’s not the girls,” he managed at last. “Stuff is weird in my life, but it’s not them.”
“What is it, then?” asked his mother. “Brian, what’s wrong?”
Brian opened his mouth, closed it again.