"rebel ion evidence." Sure, Kylie rebel ed. But she guessed she did her thing in less noticeable ways, not so much with her clothes and such, but in her surroundings. Like the time she and Sara had painted her room purple without permission. Her mom had freaked. These kids, they didn't just paint their rooms, they wore their rebel ion boldly. Like Miranda's hair or that other kid on the bus who had nose rings and piercings. As Kylie's gaze shifted around, she noticed a couple of kids had tattoos or shaved heads. And there were tons more goth-dressed kids. Black obviously had not gone out of style with troubled kids.

Uneasiness started crawling on Kylie's skin. Maybe she had hung out with Sara too long, but it seemed evident that she didn't fit in. But unlike Sara, Kylie wasn't so eager to become one with this crowd.

Two months. Two months. She repeated the words like a litany in her head. In two months, she'd be out of here. Kylie fol owed Blond Boy to an empty table in the back. And when she got there, she realized al her bus companions had hung together. Not that she felt as if she belonged with them, she hadn't even had eye contact with some of them, but face it, a known freak was better than an unknown one.

Suddenly, Kylie started feeling people turn and look at her. Or were they looking at al of them? The new kids were on display. The crowd's gazes became a col age of cold stares with different-colored eyes, but similar expressions and a lot of eyebrow twitching. Weirded out to the max, she looked at Derek, then Miranda and even Pale Girl and Blond Boy, and damn it if they were doing it, too. The eyebrow thing. It wasn't cartoonish, and not as noticeable as Sara's whole rol your eyes and pucker your brows kind of thing, but just a little twitch. Like Derek had done back at the convenience store.

What was it with the eyebrows?

Looking back into the crowd, fighting the urge to look down at her shoes, she forced herself to hold their gazes. Face it, she didn't want to be the chicken of the bunch. The one everyone picked on. And if that made her like Sara, so be it.

"Looks as if we are al here," a female voice said from the front.

Kylie tried to find the face behind the voice, but her gaze clashed with another stare-a cold, bright blue-eyed stare that somehow stood out from the rest. Pul ing her attention away from just the eyes, Kylie noticed the boy's jet-black hair. And just like that, she remembered. She remembered him.

She remembered ... her cat.

"It can't be," she muttered under her breath.

"What can't be?" Derek asked.

"Nothing." Kylie forced her gaze to the front where the woman spoke in a singsong type of voice.

"Welcome to Shadow Fal s Camp. We are..."

The woman, probably mid-twenties, had long red hair that hung almost to her waist. She wore jeans and a bright yel ow T-shirt. Standing beside her was another woman about the same age, but good God, she wore goth. Al black, even her eyes appeared black. Somebody real y needed to subscribe to a fashion magazine or two.

Kylie looked over at Goth Girl who'd been on her bus. The girl stared at the woman with a sense of admiration.

"My name is Holiday Brandon and this is Sky Peacemaker."

Right then the cabin door opened and a couple of men walked in. They looked like lawyers, or some other serious type of profession that demanded they wear matching black suits.

Kylie watched the two women up front shift their gazes to the visitors and frown. She got the feeling the two men weren't expected. That they were even unwelcome.

Sky, the goth leader, walked over and led the men outside and Holiday continued. "Okay," the singsong voice said. "First we're breaking down into newbies and returnees. Everyone who has been here before wil move outside. You'l find some helpers out there with your schedules and cabin assignments. As always, the rules of this place are posted in your cabins. We expect you to read them. And let me make something clear right now, we're not going to rearrange cabin assignments. You are here to get along, and get along you wil . If a serious problem arises, bring it to the attention of either myself or Sky and we'l discuss it, but not until after twenty-four hours. Any questions?"

Someone in the front raised a hand. "Yeah," the female voice echoed in the room. "I have a question."

Kylie leaned to the right to see the girl. The girl, another goth-dressed individual, turned around. "It doesn't have anything to do with the rules, but ... I want to know, who the hel is she?"

The girl pointed-pointed right at the table where Kylie stood. Or was she pointing right at Kylie? No, she couldn't be. Oh, damn. She was. She was pointing at Kylie. "Crap," she muttered when about sixty pair of eyes al turned and focused directly on her.

Chapter Six

"Relax," Derek said in a voice so low she was certain no one else heard it. And she could barely hear him thanks to the thumping of her own heart.

"Introductions wil happen over lunch," a female voice said. Kylie thought it was Holiday again, but she couldn't be sure. They al continued to stare. Stare at her. Her mind raced and her heart pounded. Gushing sounds echoed in her ears. Tearing her gaze away, she eyed the door and fought the urge to run. Run fast and run hard. But face it, she'd never been a good runner, and too many freaks stood between her and the door. Then, oddly, she remembered something she'd learned about wild animals. If you run, they think you're dinner and wil chase you.

Oh, double crap. Okay, deep breath. Then another one. Her lungs expanded. These weren't wild animals, just weird-ass teenagers. Right then, Kylie's phone beeped with another incoming text. Probably Sara. Kylie ignored it. And for the first time, Kylie decided she possibly could have been wrong about Sara's situation being more difficult than her own. She wasn't a hundred percent certain of that, but something deep in her gut said this wasn't just about her going to Mark Jameson's party.