By the time Sarah pulled out her now dust free, but lavender-scented comforter from the dryer, she'd managed to convince herself that there was no use for further investigation. If there was something ominous creeping in her aunt's attic, she definitely didn't want to face it alone. And if instead there was a harmless explanation for last night's weird noises (she refused to acknowledge them as footsteps), then it wasn't worth the trouble, anyway.

When a bit later she found a copy of the latest James Patterson mystery on Jane's side table stamped with "New Bedford Community Library" on the inside cover, she knew exactly how to spend the rest of her day.

Managing to avoid any and all traffic accidents this time, Sarah was pleasantly surprised to find a proper bicycle rack in front of the library. The three-story, red brick building blended seamlessly with the period architecture around the town square, and only the large sign above its entryway made it clear that its purpose was commercial rather than residential.

Apart from the old woman at the front desk, the place appeared deserted, which was fine by her. After filling out a form and handing over her ID to get a library card, Sarah hit the stacks for the young-adult fiction section. She was thumbing through the newest N.K. Jemisin with a pile of Bardugo, Gong, and Chokshi sequels already piled up on a nearby shelf when her phone buzzed.

After fishing it out of her pocket, she saw that it was an unknown number from a Southern California area code. Sarah hit Decline, but she continued watching the screen.

If she was right, the caller wouldn't give up so easily. After about thirty seconds, her instincts were vindicated as the "new voicemail" icon popped up.

She should have deleted it right then, and Sarah wasn't even sure what made her click play. Maybe it was a sense of obligation. Perhaps it was curiosity. Or it was just punishment.

"Sarah Beth, you should eat better," said her mother, using her full name to chastise her as the sound of cars passing by rang out somewhere in the background. "I read on Facebook that there's this fish--oh, I forget the name of it, but if you look it up honey--"

Sarah held the phone away from her ear and sighed in frustration at the familiar rant. Not the topic of course--her mother's manic fixations varied depending on the last source of influence, whether the internet, daytime talk shows, or entertainment channels masquerading as news had on her. But the usually unprovoked and always random outbursts weren't new. And there was nothing Sarah could do about it other than moving two and a half thousand miles across the country.

"--and a half cup of quinoa all mixed together. That'll give you a nice snack for after school. You're going to school, right? You were always such a smart girl, but if you waste your life like I did, I will never forgive you. Do you hear me, Sarah Beth? You better come home before curfew otherwise--"

Sarah paused the message and tapped on the trash can icon, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent herself from bursting out in tears in the middle of the library's fantasy section. Vowing to never again commit the same mistake she just did made her feel a bit better, even if she knew those promises never lasted long. She was too weak, too conscientious, and too loyal to break all family ties. Even if they were slowly suffocating her.

Pulling a random book off the shelf, Sarah sat on the floor right then and there and began to read, if only to get her mind onto something else. The book was actually pretty good, though. She'd made it all the way to chapter six when the shopkeeper's bell on the library's entrance rang out.

Sarah checked the time. Oh, crap. School was out and she promised Jane she'd help clear out the garden before it rained again. Judging by the big, gray clouds outside the window, that could be just in a few hours. And while the chore could probably wait another day, it was more about the principle of it than anything else.

After quickly checking out four books and dumping the in her backpack, Sarah ran out to grab her bike, but the front wheel was completely flat.

"Son of a bitch!" she muttered, kicking the wheel in irritation.

"Is something wrong?" The unexpected question from behind made her jump.

Turning her head, she saw the boy from the high school yesterday leaning across the passenger seat of a Jeep stopped at the curb.

"Uhm, do you know of any places around here to repair a bike tire?" she asked, wondering how he had the knack for always witnessing her personal embarrassments. So far, she was two for two.

Caleb smiled and nodded to the building next door. "Yeah, there might be a place," he said.

Sarah looked at the sign painted in big, white letters: TRUMAN'S HARDWARE AND BICYCLE REPAIR.

The skin on her face nearly burned off from shame. If she hadn't been so focused on the library earlier, maybe she'd done a better job of looking around.

"Thanks," she mumbled, concentrating on dragging the bike inside the shop before she could make herself look even more dumb.

But the slam of a car door signaled that Mr. High School Quarterback wasn't yet ready to leave. "Here, let me help," he offered, already at her side and lifting the busted bike. As they entered the store, he added, "I told you I'd find you."

Arranging for the repairs with Mr. Truman ("it might take a day or two since I'll have to special order the size"), Caleb and Sarah were in and out within five minutes.

"Can I give you a ride home?" he asked, already walking toward his car.

Since she didn't have other options for getting home besides walking the couple of miles, Sarah followed. "Won't your girlfriend mind?" she asked, recalling the scene from when they met the day before.

Rounding the hood, Caleb looked back at her, confused. "Who?"

"You know," she said, opening the passenger door. "Wannabe Lydia Deetz." She hoped he'd get the Beetlejuice reference since the two had nearly identical haircuts.

He laughed and continued to the driver's seat. "Oh, Ever? She's not my girlfriend."

"Does she know that?" Sarah asked when they were both settled and Caleb started the engine.

He pulled away from the curb. "Know? Yes. Accept? Not always."

"Ever," she repeated as they circled back around the square. "Is that really her name?"

"Middle name, actually," he clarified, turning onto the street leading out of downtown.

Sarah scoffed. "What's her first name then? Wait! Let me guess. It's When. No, Where. Or is it How?"

Caleb glanced over at her. "Close. It's Four," he said, obviously eager to see her reaction.

"Four? Like the number?" she asked, sure that he must be joking. There were a lot of dumb names in her generation--usually spelled with a lot of Y's and EE's--but this was new.

"Like forever," he said. When she remained silent, he continued, "As in Four Ever Moore. I'm serious. That's her full name."

"Wow." She shook her head, baffled. "I don't know what to say to that. Did her parents hate her for being born?"

He laughed. "She's really not bad once you get to know her."

Having been the recipient of a drink in her face thanks to the chick, Sarah seriously doubted that. "Cool, but I'm not planning on it."

"What are you planning on doing here?" Caleb asked as the houses became increasingly sparse, replaced with trees that were still shedding their summer regalia. "You're our age, right? I thought by you being at the school yesterday that you'd be enrolling, but then today, I find you hanging out at the library, instead. So you're either ditching on your first day or--"

Sarah didn't want any speculation. There'd be enough of that in time, anyway. "I did enroll," she interrupted. "Sort of. I mean, I think I'm your age if you're seventeen give or take. But technically I've graduated so there's no need for me to complete requirements like all the other Seniors."

He paused for a beat, but then looked over at her again. "I'm confused."

Whether it was real or forced, the cute-but-dumb-jock schtick suited him, and Sarah smiled. "I'll give you the short version, so try to keep up: I have a few months to kill and my aunt thinks I need friends. So I'll go into classes I find interesting, but I don't need to do the same coursework or take tests like you. Savvy?"

"You're so lucky," he said with sincere awe.

She sighed. "I'm glad someone thinks so."

"I'm serious," he said, slowing as they neared the first other car on the road until now. In the distance, a streak of lightning flashed across the sky. "I'd give anything to be done with studying and just have fun with my friends."

Sarah didn't have much to add. "Yeah," she whispered, turning her attention to outside the window as they took the turnoff. "Hey, what do you know about this house?"

"That one?" Caleb asked with a nod toward the gabled, black colonial, although it was the only house for acres. "Nothing, I don't think. It's been empty ever since I can remember and I've lived here my whole life. Why?"

She kept her eyes on the house as it approached and then disappeared from view before turning forward again. "I'm not sure. It has this strange vibe that intrigues me for some reason," she admitted, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she hadn't been so candid. Barely had she attracted the attention of a cool guy and here she was practically stamping a big 'L' on her forehead.

"Sorry I couldn't help," he said, as they approached the cottage at the end of the road. "Is this your place?"

Sarah could already see Jane on the front porch. She appeared to be hammering something to one of the posts.

"Yup. Thanks for the ride. You really didn't have to," she said as the Jeep came to a stop. But as she got out, so did Caleb.

"No worries. Oh, hey Ms. Pulaski," he called out before waving.

Jane waved back. "How are you doing, Caleb?"

Sarah couldn't hide her surprise. "You know my aunt?"

"Sure do. Had her for first grade many, many years ago," he said with a smile.

His attitude was super sweet, but the revelation made Sarah's heart hurt. She found herself envying Caleb for having such a stable childhood and also kind of resenting him for how little he probably appreciated the privilege.

"Cool," she said, forcing a smile before she'd bum herself out even more. But as she was getting ready to say good-bye, Sarah remembered something. "Oh, shoot. Your hoodie. Let me run upstairs--"

"Don't worry about it," he cut her off. "It'll give me a good excuse to see you again." He paused, searching her face. "If you want to."

Sarah opened her mouth and then closed it again. Somewhere in between, she probably made a few awkward expressions, too. "Oh. Uhm. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Okay, then," she blabbered before rushing up the front steps.

Caleb waved. "See you later, then." As he went back to his car, he added, "Oh, will you be coming to school tomorrow?"

Sarah looked at her aunt, who'd just finished putting up the vintage ghost decoration she'd gotten from Officer Quinn. The thing was creepier than she remembered.

Jane shook her head. "No news from Principal Orr yet, so I guess it'll be another day or two."

"Sorry," Sarah said to Caleb with true regret. Although she had no reason to miss AP English, her willingness to attend New Bedford High had just skyrocketed. "I guess I'll have to find something else to entertain me until then," she said as her eyes fell on Casper, the creepy ghost.