“So, she said no?” Mom asked as she took another bite of bean chili mac.

“No, she doesn’t know if she can,” I adjusted in my seat at the bar counter and picked at my plate. The warm autumn sunset shone golds and reds on the linoleum floor.

“Well, there’s still hope, then.”

I nodded and took a bite. The cheese was so creamy, and the beans were soft. Between bites, I traced the faint scratches in the counter.

“Honey, you’re not gonna mope around all day, are you?”

My mouth felt dry. “It’s not just that.”

Mom quirked an eyebrow, waiting.

I took a deep breath and told her about how I went looking for the books for Mrs. Willows and what the boys said.

Mom was speechless at first, then she set her spoon in the bowl. “Come here.” The stool screeched across the floor as Mom stood and walked around the counter. She squeezed me close and said, “Don’t ever change who you are for them, okay? If you like doing these things, the right people will find you. People who like the same things. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but it will happen. I’m so sorry that happened to you. People can be so mean, especially kids, since they don’t seem to have a filter.”

I cried in her arms while she held me until it was all cried out. What if she was wrong, or what if they never found me?

I finally pulled away to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. Mom’s eyes were red, too.

We sat back in our seats and tried to have a normal conversation before bed.

***

Snuggled up in my bed finishing homework, I thought I heard Mom talking. She must have been on the phone. I worked until I heard my name. Then it seemed I turned on my ears.

“I’m just so worried about her. She’s been moping around watching the other kids play out the window and I just wish she had some friends to play with…She’s trying to get a little book club going at school, but the librarian doesn’t think it’s gonna happen…” she scoffed. “I don’t know. They don’t really care about stuff like that. You know how it is. They can’t make money off it, so they’re not gonna bother.”

I didn’t know if that was true or if Mom was just mad right now. She must have been talking to Uncle Cliff.

“If she doesn’t make friends soon, I might have to get her into some kind of after school activity.”

My stomach churned, and my palms sweat.

“She’s bound to make friends if she’s around more people. I just hate to take away her reading time. But if she finds friends who also like to read her books, then it’s a win-win.”

I could not go around selling cookies or something. A shiver ran up my spine. Talking to people wasn’t really my favorite thing. Especially not selling to people. I felt like I had to do something now, but I couldn’t let her know I was listening.

I could pretend everything was okay. I would read and be happy like she was. How’d she do it, anyway? She loved being alone. Tomorrow I would be like her. I had to.

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***

When I woke up Saturday morning, Mom was already dressed and ready to go. She said we were taking a girls’ day out to the mall, but I knew it was because she felt bad about me being lonely.

We walked around some clothes stores and grabbed lunch in the food court. Mom didn’t even look at me when she brought up the idea of after-school activities. I told her I was probably just having a bad day, but she didn’t buy it.

When we finished eating, we walked to the game store. It smelled so good there, like fresh cardboard and plastic. I ran around looking at all the games and toys, passing through crowds of kids running and parents trying to keep up with them.

One game caught my eye. It had a few kids playing with words. I loved word games!

Unlock the Secrets of the Beyond with the Mystical Ouija Board!

“Oh, what about this one?” I flipped it over. “I wonder how you play?”

Mom came over and read the back with me.

Gather ’round the board and let your fingers guide you toward revelations you never thought possible.

My eyes widened. Maybe it could tell me where to find friends. Maybe I could learn if I would ever be a real detective. My heart raced at the possibilities.

“Oh no, we’re not getting that.” Mom shook her head.

“Why?” I whined. It wasn’t often I did that, but I really wanted it.

Mom whispered, and pointed at the words, “Engage in captivating conversations as you communicate with spirits, receiving answers to your most burning questions. That’s…evil stuff. You’re not supposed to mess with spirits.”

“Then why are they here?” I whispered back. “They have answers. They could help.”

“No, honey.” She took the box from my hand and set it back on the shelf. “They lie. They…I don’t know why they’re here, but they’re not good.”

They couldn’t all be bad. Mom was…generalizing, right? But how was I going to get it? I didn’t have any birthday money left, and what if she found it in my room? She’d go bananas, absolutely bananas.

I stood in a trance for a second, imagining her pacing the house, freaking out about how her daughter was now a witch, and scared to death that ghosts were going to take over the house and eventually rule the world because I’d summoned something from the depths. Chuckling, I snapped out of it. I couldn’t buy it, but maybe I could make one. It was just a board with words. That should be easy.

And I wasn’t planning on summoning anything. I just wanted to ask a few questions.

Mom picked up another word game, Scrabble, and we took it home. I felt like she was using it as an incentive for me to find friends to play it with.

***

“Wanna play?” Mom asked when we got home, but I was already skipping the stairs to my room.

“Um, I think I’m gonna read for a bit.”

“Well, okay, maybe later, then.” She set it on the counter and I went to my room. Usually, I would have loved a word game with Mom, but I couldn’t get the spirit thing out of my head.

How could I do it? I opened my journal. I could list everything across the two pages.

I sat on the floor in front of my bed. The room was only lit by my bedside lamp, and I drew the board as I remembered it into my notebook.

I grabbed a penny to use as the planchette thing, whatever that meant. I asked a few questions and quickly became bored, staring at the motionless penny. Why wasn’t it working? I sighed and told any spirits that I would check at school tomorrow to see if anyone stood out as a friend.

Someone giggled from my closet, and I froze. The room was so quiet I thought I heard a buzzing sound coming from my lamp. The light faded, then returned to normal. As still as I could be, I glanced around the room.

Silence.

I stared at my closet. Creeping up, I scuffed my feet against the hardwood floor. I tiptoed over, gently placing my hand against the door. I peeked inside, every muscle tense, expecting to actually see a ghost peering through the clothes.

My eyes strained to see into the dark. I slowly reached my hand in, pressing air and brushing against a shirt. Could you feel a ghost? My eyes finally adjusted.

Nothing. Just clothes.

My shoulders dropped, but I didn’t know if it was relief or disappointment. I pursed my lips and swallowed. “Thank you for listening,” I whispered into the dark and tucked myself in bed.

The next day, I checked the library for anyone who might be in the mystery section. I didn’t know how the spirits could help, but I figured I’d better check the library, anyway. Sitting on a bench near the window, a girl sat with a white top, overalls, and fluffy buns over her ears, reading The Westing Game.