But I'd found a shortcut by walking through a park nicknamed Hungry Hollow, which was at the bottom of a deep ravine and shrouded by thick trees. If I crossed a bridge over a narrow, meandering river, went past a parking lot-empty at this time of year since it was meant for people using the soccer field during the warmer months-and past a small kiddies' area with swings and a seesaw, then up the equivalent of three flights of wooden stairs to get to ravine-set houses, it was only ten minutes from school to home. Twelve if I took my time.

I'd walked the same route for two months and hadn't run into a single problem, except for the odd monster snowdrift. I always made sure I was fully aware of my surroundings. You never could be too careful.

Unfortunately, today was going to be the exception. I was in such a good mood after what had happened with Chris, and I was so caught up in wondering what I was going to wear to the dance, that I didn't notice somebody was following me until after I'd fully entered the poorly lit park. And by then it was too late to change my mind about the direction I was going in.

With a sick, sinking feeling I realized it was the weird guy who'd been staring at me in school that day. I recognized the sweatshirt after a quick glance behind me.

Who was he? What did he want?

Maybe nothing, I thought. Maybe he's just taking the same route as me. Coincidence only.

If that was the case, then fine. But if it wasn't. .

I swallowed hard and picked up my pace. I had a ways to go before I got to the wooden stairs, but first I reached a big oak tree and a patch of thick foliage that stood in the center of the park. As soon as I knew I was out of sight from the main path, I ducked behind some snow-covered bushes.

The guy stopped in front of the huge tree and turned around with an expression of confusion showing under the dark hood of his sweatshirt. He craned his neck to see where I'd disappeared to. When his gaze reached the bushes, he paused.