When Stars Come Out (When Stars Come Out 1)

I sigh. “I hate high school.” But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d asked for exactly this—the normalcy of high school, even if it comes with real bitches.

Lennon sits next to me in every class and points to the people I should know.

“That’s Maia Ledford. Her father walked out a couple months ago. She hasn’t spoken since. That’s Caroline Miller. She’s first in the class and plans to go to Oxford when she graduates. I’m convinced she’ll kill anyone who threatens her GPA. And that....” she points to a boy sitting against the wall. His hair is dark, coming to rest on his shoulders, and his lips are a perfect bow. He doesn’t look interested in anything going on around him. “That’s Thane Treadway. He’s super rich and super powerful.”

“Does he know that? Because he doesn’t look happy at all.”

She leans toward me, her chin rests on her hand. “He’s just bored.”

I glance at the boy again and find him looking at me. His face remains blank, like I’m the color beige or Mr. Val’s math homework. As quick as he glances in my direction, he looks away, and I might have taken it for disinterest if I didn’t recognize the expression. It’s one I’ve been wearing the last four months. It’s grief.

Thane has just become ten times more interesting.

“Speaking of homecoming, you have to go to the dance!”

I refocus my attention on Lennon whose eyes have brightened at the topic. “I don’t really like dancing.”

She shrugs. “It’s not really about the dancing—it’s about the dresses.” I try imagining Lennon’s lithe frame, swallowed by that huge cardigan, wearing a snug-fitting gown, and can’t. “Besides, it might be a requirement for you. Rumor is the football team’s considering making you their princess.”

“Their what?”

“Princess…for Queen’s Ransom,” she says. “Every homecoming they nominate one girl. It’s a tradition.”

I have so many questions.

“What’s Queen’s Ransom?”

“It’s like...capture the flag. We play with our rival, Rayon High School. Each school offers up one girl to be exchanged and hidden by the other team. Whoever finds and rescues their princess first wins the homecoming seat, and the girl becomes Homecoming Queen. There’s a huge risk—I mean, Rayon’s princess could win,” she offers a small laugh. “But that hasn’t happened in over twenty years.”

I don’t like the idea of being exchanged or hidden, and screw waiting to be rescued.

“Why would they nominate me? No one knows who I am.”

“Everyone knows who you are,” Lennon says. “Your new-girl status makes you the perfect choice—they think of it as offering up the virgin for sacrifice.”

Oh, god.

“Can I refuse?”

Lennon’s bony shoulder pokes out of the fabric of her cardigan as she shrugs. “No one ever has, but if you’re not queen then Natalie will be.”

Imagine the kind of enemy Natalie

will become if I beat her out of Homecoming Queen. Isn’t Shy on the football team? Maybe I can request he leave my name out of it.

“When’s the dance?” I ask.

“In three weeks,” Lennon says. “Football is really big here. Homecoming is a holiday. Anyway, even if you don’t get Queen of the Field, you should still go to the dance—we can go together.”

“What if someone asks you to the dance?”

She smiles ruefully. “No one will ask me.”

“You can’t know that. Haven’t you been asked before?”

“No, and I won’t be asked this year, either,” she says, adamant—as if the future is etched in stone—and maybe for her, it is.

At lunch, I follow Lennon back to Emerson Hall, deposit my books into my locker, and meld with a crowd of students heading toward the cafeteria. It feels like joining a hoard of hungry zombies—they all moan about classes and can’t seem to walk straight, knocking shoulders with the person beside them. I don’t like physical contact, and I don’t like crowds—more bodies mean it’s harder to find an escape route if things go south.