a glimpse of the drawing before Horace slipped the notebook into his coat pocket. It was some sort of eagle with an animalâs body.
âHorace, old man. You havenât touched your lunch!â Hacker was back, gesturing toward the uneaten grilled cheese on Horaceâs plate.
âNot hungry,â Horace mumbled.
âYou eat like a bird!â laughed Hacker. He turned to the others, once again amused by his own cleverness. âHorace eats, sleeps, and breathes birds. Heâll turn into a bird someday if heâs not careful!â Mrs. Hacker cackled loudly and the others chuckled.
âDonât let him bother you, heâs just a big bully,â Willa whispered to Horace.
âWilla â¦â
âYes?â
âBe careful of the bird.â Horace stood suddenly and moved toward the cashier.
Willa watched him go, anxiety flooding in. Bird? What bird? The phoenix? Why?
That night the phoenix was particularly restless and kept Willa awake for hours. Horaceâs words had made her uneasy; she lay in bed staring at the bird, and the longer she stared, the more evil the phoenix looked. The spiky feathers, the sharp beak, the cold eyes. At about two oâclock Willa finally dozed off, only to be woken again by cats fighting in the alley. The next morning Baz had a bleeding ear, and a big smile on her face. Willa bandaged her up as quickly as she could before bolting out the door to school.
She stumbled wearily through her day. Science class was something about mass and volume. English class was a discussion about metaphor. Math class was a blur. In art class she stared at her blank paper.
âWilla. Earth to Willa!â
Willa looked up to see Kate and Nicky looking at her.
âHmm? What?â
âMan, you are in some kind of coma lately.â
âLay off,â Willa frowned. Her head hurt.
âSeriously, if thereâs anything bugging you, anything we can help you withâ¦â Kate gestured vaguely. Both girls were waiting for Willa to say something, leaning forward eagerly like they suspected some great gossip.
âThere isnât,â she said, a little snappier than she intended.
âWhatever,â Kate replied, and the two girls turned away as Josh wandered past and shared some joke with them. The laughter and eyelash-batting made Willa furious for no real reason. She hated school, and she hated her friends. Who needs them anyway?
Willa stayed late at school, partly to catch up on homework in the library, and partly to avoid seeing her friends. At four thirty the janitor tapped her on the shoulder. Sheâd fallen asleep over her English book.
âI gotta say, schoolwork had the same effect on me. Time to go home.â
It was getting dark. The streets were empty, but the sky was filled with birds. She stopped for a moment, tipping her head back to watch them. Little birds darted back and forth. Starlings zigzagged gracefully through them, larger seagulls wheeled in from the sea, and far above all of this floated what looked like eagles or vultures, their presence causing the smaller birds to scatter and regroup nervously. The power lines were crowded with crows, and pigeons lined the rooftops.
This is whatâs freaking Horace out, Willa thought, wondering if the birds really could be some kind of omen.
At home Baz was in the living room, palms and nose pressed against the picture window, staring at all the birds. When Willa entered the house, Baz spun around, her eyes wild, and made a mad dash for the open door. Willa blocked her, holding her back with one hand while she slammed the door shut and locked it.
âNo, Baz! Down, Baz! Down!â Baz scrunched up her face and slunk to the sofa. Willa leaned wearily against the door. âLeave the birds alone. Do you hear me? Leave â them â alone! Please make an effort to stay human !â
Baz ignored her.
âPromise me you wonât go out, Baz. Please? Promise