Unwritten Books 2 - Fathom Five by James Bow Read Free Book Online

nothing.
    Rosemary stared ahead, twisting her hands while the bus slipped into the fog. Despite the shouted conversations around her, silence hovered over Peter like a cloud. When she had the strength to break it, all she could say was, “So ...”
    Peter said nothing.
    Rosemary sighed. “Look. I’m sorry about … um ....” She curled up into herself. “I just freaked, that’s all.”
    She clenched her fists and shifted in her seat. Finally, she said, “Look, I don’t even know how you got that letter. I didn’t send it. I threw it in the wastebasket. I didn’t even really mean to write it, but I was overwhelmed. That didn’t mean I didn’t like being kissed.”
    She waited for a response. “Peter? Are you listening to me?”
    The bus juddered to a stop. The students grabbed their bags. Peter stood up and tripped over Rosemary’s feet. He stared at her as though she had appeared out of nowhere.
    “Peter?”
    He glared at her, then followed the flow of students.
    “Peter!” Rosemary started after him, but a hand clapped her shoulder and pulled her back.
    “Hey!” She struggled to turn. The back of the bus was empty. One of her backpack’s straps had caught itself on the seat, pinning her shoulder. She pulled free, disentangled the straps, and ran out into the schoolyard, looking for Peter.
    The other students were milling around, grey shapes in the fog, looking about in bewilderment. Joe was closest to her. “What the heck —”
    Then she heard it. A shush in the trees, a sound that played across the back of her mind. Whispers off the building walls. She couldn’t make out the words. Veronica shuddered. “Stupid fog.”
    Rosemary caught sight of Peter, walking on ahead, oblivious to the voices. The fog gathered around him as he reached the school doors, and he vanished from sight.
***
    In French class, Peter glowered at his desk.
    Rosemary had ignored him. Okay, perhaps she was angry at being woken up in the middle of the night, but to say nothing? To sit somewhere else? That hurt.
    I’ve driven her away, he thought. She never felt for me the way I felt for her.
    “Peter?” Madame Krug stood pointing to the assignment on the board.
    Quietest trip ever on that bus. Not one person bothered to say hello.
    “Peter? Are you all right?”
    I might as well be invisible, the way people treat me.
    “Peter!”
    Peter jerked to attention.
    “Peter, where are you today, off in some cloud?” the teacher asked. The classroom snickered.
    “Sorry,” said Peter.
    “ Je m’excuse, madame, s’il vous plait , Peter,” said Madame Krug.
    Peter coughed. “ Je m’excuse , Madame Krug.” He slumped in his seat. It was going to be a long day.
***
    Rosemary waited by her locker between classes. Her eyes scanned the passing students.
    Around her, people whispered about the fog.
    “This is getting creepy,” said Brittney. “First that shipwreck, and now those voices? That’s not the wind playing tricks with us.”
    “Sure it is,” said Joe. “What else could it be?”
    “Ghosts, of course,” said Benson.
    Veronica glowered into her locker. “Shut up, Benson!”
    “No, seriously. There’s, like, a ton of shipwrecks around here, right?” Benson went on. “Well, ask yourself: how come?”
    “Rocks,” said Brittney.
    “But there’s the lighthouse and maps and stuff,” Benson pressed. “There’s gotta be more to it.”
    “Like what?” Brittney rolled her eyes. “Magnets?”
    “No, sirens. Drawing the sailors onto the rocks.”
    “Sirens?” said Joe.
    “Yeah, you know, creatures like beautiful women. Sort of sexy water vampires, like the Brides of Dracula ?” Benson’s face took on a distant, contented look. Veronica slammed her locker door.
    “This is stupid! You’re being stupid!” She stood with her hands on her hips. “It’s just some freaky weather, that’s all!”
    Then Rosemary spotted Peter. “Peter!” She waved. “Peter!” When he didn’t answer, she darted towards him