David just nodded. "Sure." It was Gillian who had trouble letting go of his hand, and when she did she still seemed to feel his grip.
(This had better be good, Angel.) She blinked in the light of the hallway.
(Go down to the end of the hall. That's the master bedroom. Go on in. Don't turn on the light.)
The master bedroom was cavernous and dark and filled with large dim shapes like sleeping elephants.
Gillian walked in and immediately banged into a piece of heavy furniture.
(Be careful! See that light over there?)
Light was showing around the edges of double doors on the other side of the room. The doors were closed.
(And locked. That's the bathroom. Now, here's what I want you to do. Walk carefully over to the right of the bathroom and you'll find another door. It's the closet. I want you to quietly open that door and get in it.)
(What?)
Angel's voice was elaborately patient. (Get in the closet and put your ear against the wall.)
Gillian shut her eyes. Then, feeling exactly like a burglar, she slowly turned the handle of the closet door and slipped inside.
It was a walk-in closet, very long but stuffy because of the clothes bristling from both sides. Gillian had a profound feeling of intrusion, of being an invader of privacy. She seemed to walk a long way in before Angel stopped her.
(Okay. Here. Now put your ear against the left wall.)
Eyes still shut-it seemed to make the absolute darkness more bearable-Gillian burrowed between something long sheathed in plastic and something heavy and velvety. With the clothes embracing her on either side, she leaned her head until her bare ear touched wood.
(Angel, I can't believe I'm doing this. I feel really stupid, and I'm scared, and if anybody finds me-)
(Just listen, will you?)
At first Gillian's heart seemed to drown out all other sounds* But then, faint but clear, she heard two voices she recognized.
Chapter 10
"But only if you absolutely swear to me you didn't do it."
"Oh, how many times? I've been telling you all week I didn't. I never said a word to her. I swear."
The first voice, which sounded taut and a little unbalanced, was Tanya's. The second was Kim the Gymnast's. Despite her brave words, Kim sounded scared.
(Angel? What's going on?)
(Trouble.)
"Okay," Tanya's voice was saying. "Then this is your chance to prove it by helping me."
"Tan, look. Look. I'm sorry about you and David breaking up. But maybe it's not Gillian's fault-"
"It's completely her fault. The stuff with Bruce was over. You know that. There was no reason for David to ever find out-until she opened her mouth. And as for how she found out-"
"Not again!" Kim the Gymnast sounded ready to scream. "I didn't do it."
"All right. I believe you." Tanya's voice was calmer. "So in that case there's no reason for us to fight.
We've got to stick together. Hand me that brush, will you?" There was silence for a moment, and Gillian could imagine Tanya brushing her dark hair to a higher gloss, looking in a mirror approvingly.
"So what are you going to do?" Kim's voice asked.
"Get both of them. In a way, I hate him more. I promised he'd be sorry if he dumped me, and I always keep my promises."
Squashed between the heavy, swaying clothes on her right and left, Gillian had a wild and almost fatal impulse to giggle.
She knew what was going on. It was just such a ... a sitcom situation that she had a hard time making herself believe in it. Here she was, listening to two people who were actually plotting against her. She was overhearing their plans to get her. It was... absurd. Bad mystery novel stuff.
And it was happening anyway.
She made a feeble attempt to get back to reality, straightening up slightly.
(Angel-people don't really do these revenge things. Right? They're just talking. And-I mean, I can't even believe I'm hearing all this. It's so ... so ridiculous...)
(You're overhearing it because I brought you here. You have an invisible friend who can lead you to the right place at the right time. And you'd better believe that people carry out these "revenge things." Tanya's never made a plan that she hasn't carried through.)
(The future executive.) Gillian thought it faintly.
(Future CEO. She's deadly serious, kid. And she's smart. She can make things happen.)
Gillian no longer felt like giggling.
When she pressed her ear against the wall again, it was clear she'd missed some of the conversation.
"... David first?" Kim the Gymnast was saying.
"Because I know what to do with him. He wants to get into Ohio University, you know? He sent the application in October. It was already going to be a little hard because his grades aren't great, but he scored really high on the SATs. It was hard, but I'm going to make it..." There was a pause and Tanya's voice seemed to mellow and sweeten. "Absolutely impossible."
"How?" Kim sounded shaken.
"By writing to the university. And to our principal and to Ms. Renquist, the English lit teacher, and to David's grandpa, who's supposed to be giving him money to go to college."
"But why? I mean, if you say something nasty, they'll just think it's sour grapes-"
"I'm going to tell them he passed English lit last year by cheating. We had to turn in a term paper. But he didn't write the paper he turned in. It was bought. From a college guy in Philadelphia."
Kim's breath whooshed out so loudly that Gillian could hear it. "How do you know?"
"Because I arranged it, of course. I wanted him to bring his grades up, to get into a university. To make
something of himself. But of course he can never prove all that. He's the one that paid for it."