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"Well, she's right to be angry. Why didn't you tell her?"

"Because I knew exactly how she would react. I wanted to hold off telling her until it was absolutely too late for her to say or do anything about it."

"What do you mean? What did she say and what can she do about it?"

He was quiet as we drove on to school. I sat patiently waiting. If anyone should know how difficult it was to explain, rationalize and cover for the words and actions of our parents, it was surely I, I thought.

"I wasn't exactly truthful

and accurate about everything I've told you," he continued.

"Like what?"

"The reason I started to research and investigate the Pearson murder in our house. It didn't bother me at all that we were moving into that house, and I didn't think much about your mother until--"

"Until what?"

"Until I started thinking about you. You intrigued me for some time, Alice. I wasn't kidding about looking at you all the time and hoping you would show some interest in me. It was not because of the house and what happened in it that I tried to learn everything I could about your mother; it was because of you. I thought that someday, I'd be able to discuss it intelligently with you and win your interest in me."

"Isn't that what happened?" I asked, now feeling like I had been manipulated after all. He heard the note of annoyance in my voice.

"Yes, but I was and have been very interested in you for some time," he quickly replied. "Anyway, my mother found out about the research, as I said, and was angry about it and said all sorts of nasty things to me. All the rest I told you was true: how she fixed up the house to erase the event and the history and ignore any references to it."

"And then you start to go out with me and ask me to the prom," I said, understanding. He didn't reply, so I turned on him. "She thinks that's sick, right? She thinks I'm sick, as sick as my mother, and she doesn't want you to have anything to do with me, especially go out with me and ask me to the prom."

He didn't try to deny it.

"What she thinks and what she wants doesn't matter to me," he said. "She's not going to run my life."

"Great," I said, turning away and pouting. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing. Like I said at the start, nothing will change between us."

"What about your father? What does he say?"

"My father's always taken the easiest way out. He gives her what she wants and does his own thing " "What does that mean exactly, Craig?"

"Well, I can't bring you to the house anymore. I wanted you to understand why not."

"And? C'mon, what else?" I demanded.

"My father's threatening to take away my car and my allowance. But," he added quickly, "I've got my own money. I've put away a ton, and they can't do anything about that. I could easily rent a car for the night of the prom, or we could go with the others in the limousine."

I felt my insides tighten like a fist. It made it hard for me to breathe. I was like a leper in this village. He wasn't wrong to say that nothing had changed. Nothing had. Despite my changing appearance and more socializing, I was still

considered an undesirable in this village.

"I'm not proud of my parents," he continued. "The truth is, Alice, I can't wait to leave home, go to college, and start my own life. So don't you dare think that anything I do or say now is your fault."

"It doesn't make me feel too good, Craig."

"We'll just ignore it," he said. "Just forget about them. It's not your problem anyway. It's mine, and I'll handle it. The only reason I'm telling you now is because I thought you might not understand why I wasn't bringing you around to meet my parents, or just in case--"

"What?"

"The gossip spreads and your grandparents hear about it. My mother can be very vicious when she doesn't get what she wants."

"Great. Just what I need, another dog yapping at my heels in this community," I muttered.