Claire stopped at the corner and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder. The wind blew strongly and small droplets of rain hit her skin. Her yellow hair, long and straight, whipped around her face.

"Oh my god, Henry Hunt kept smiling at me at lunch today." The light changed, and she and Jocelyn crossed the intersection.

"So?" Jocelyn asked. "He's not...ugly."

"He's not cute, either."

"So, who do you think is cute? James Parkway?"

"James Parkway," she said at the same time.

"Of course," Jocelyn snickered. "You only like older guys."

"What's wrong with that?"

They climbed the steps to the library's entrance and the automatic doors parted in front of them. The inside was carpeted and serene. Claire saw her mother behind the counter.

"Hello, girls," she said. "How was your day?"

"Boring," said Claire.

"Have a lot of homework?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

A man came to the counter with a large pile of books. Claire and Jocelyn crossed the floor to an empty table. They let their backpacks slide from their shoulders and sat down.

Leaning back, Jocelyn plucked a copy of Seventeen from the magazine rack. "It's prom season," she said.

"In the States," said Claire. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out her math book.

"Oh, look," said Jocelyn. "I'm going to find true love this month. I'm an Aries."

"What does it say about Scorpio?"

"'If you are a Scorpio, James Parkway will – '"

"Give it," said Claire, laughing. She snatched the magazine from Jocelyn's hand. "'If you are a Scorpio, you will soon receive vital information,'" she read.

"Vital information about what?"

"It doesn't say."

"Those things are stupid, anyway."

"No, they're not. But magazines don't tell that much. There was a book that I..."

Pushing back her chair, she stood up and went to the nonfiction section. Wandering through the tall bookcases, she let her eyes scan the titles. Horoscopes, 1994-1996, she read. And then she saw another one: Messages from Beyond. She pulled it from the shelf and carried it back to the table.

"Ooh, spooky," Jocelyn said.

Claire turned the pages. "Do you know what necromancy is?" she asked.

"Do I know what what is?"

"Necromancy. It's when you contact a dead person and they tell you the future."

"Do dead people know the future?"

"Of course," she said. "They know everything."

She read a few pages. "Let's make a Ouija board," she said. She turned her head sideways to glance at her mum, and saw that she was busy at a computer. "I want to contact my father."

"Your father's dead?"

"Shhh." Claire looked at her mum again. Then, she told Jocelyn, "He died when I was two. My mum won't talk about him."

Suddenly, she stood up and gathered her books and her backpack into her arms. "Let's go in the other room."

The Reference Room was empty except for shelves of encyclopedias and dictionaries. Claire walked to the back corner and sat down on the carpet. Jocelyn sat in front of her.

"I don't even know what his name was," Claire said. "My mum changes the subject every time I try to ask her, and my aunt gets really mad and says I wouldn't want to have known him anyway."

"How do you make a Ouija board?"

"You just tear up scraps of paper, and..." She pulled a notebook out of her backpack and tore out a sheet of blank paper. She found a pen and wrote each letter of the alphabet. She tore them apart and placed them on the carpet, between her and Jocelyn's folded legs.

"What do we use for a pointer?"

"Anything," Claire said. "This." She pulled a mirror out of her purse and set it on the floor.

"Claire's father," Jocelyn said in a low, spooky voice. "What's to become of us?"

"Be serious," Claire said. She placed her fingers lightly on the mirror and Jocelyn copied.

"Don't push it. Just let it move."

She closed her eyes.

"What's your name?" she asked aloud.

She opened her eyes, and the mirror moved.

"You're pushing it," said Jocelyn.

"No, I'm not."

It moved to the letter A. Then I, and then R. "Air," she said.

PLANE. "Airplane."

"Your dad's name is Airplane – "

"Shh."

ARRIVESREADY –

"Airplane arrives ready."

The mirror moved again. ORNOT. And then it stopped.

"Airplane arrives ready or not," said Jocelyn. "That's weird."

Claire turned to a blank page in her notebook and found her pen.

Airplane

Arrives

Ready

Or

Not

She woke up. It was dark. She thought that her dream was real and her room was a dream. The door flew open and her mum was beside her. "Claire! Claire, stop screaming!"

"I'm not screaming!" she shouted.

"Yes, you are." The light was switched on. Her mum stood in the doorway and Claire sat in bed.

"It must have been some nightmare."

"Who said it was a nightmare?" Claire lay down and pulled the covers over her face.

April 2, 1995

Dear Diary,

Last night I woke up screaming. I must have had a bad dream, but I can't remember anything. Then this morning when I went to the bathroom there was blood on my underwear. Jocelyn said I was a late bloomer. Thirteen is kinda late to start your period, I guess. It's really weird. I haven't told Mum yet. I don't really know why.