Wednesday after school Dan stood in the lobby of the Plaza Hotel, fiddling with the collar of his new black Agn?s B. suit jacket and clutching the small red leather-bound book Mystery had given him for Valentine?s Day. He?d been to the Plaza only once before, when he and Vanessa had been in Central Park filming ice skaters and she?d had to use the bathroom. Even in his fancy new suit he felt out of place in such sumptuous surroundings. He?d better get used to it. After all, he was about to become a very famous author who had tea with his agent in fancy hotels on a regular basis. Pauper in a mirrored castle,he thought, forming the beginnings of a poem. ?Daniel!? Dan heard Rusty Klein shout from across the room. This time she was wearing her red wig in fat braids on either side of her head, and her immense, six-foot-plus frame was cloaked in an unusual black Japanese geisha robe dotted with tiny white flowers and paired with tall, black suede stiletto boots?as if she wasn?t already tall enough. Mystery stood at her side looking like a starved ghost in a tattered plum-colored wrap dress and worn brown leather boots. Her collarbone stuck out from her skinny frame like an airplane wing, and her lips were so chapped, they were completely white. Skeleton princess drifts out on a ray of dust. ?Hey,? Dan greeted them casually, as if he always hung out at the Plaza after school. Inside his white Agn?s B. shirt the silver gravity pen Mystery had given him beat against his pale chest. ?Thank you for the gifts.? Rusty swept him up in a big bear hug, suffocating him with her rank oily-fish perfume and smudging his cheek with orangey-pink lipstick. ?Mystery and I hadtoo much fun shopping for you, darling! We had toforce ourselves to stop.? Mystery ran her tongue over her yellow teeth. ?We?ve been drinking martinis and deconstructing Kafka like two old ninnies,? she croaked, sounding drunk and looking like she hadn?t slept in weeks. She blinked her sleepy gray eyes. ?Now that you?re here I can eat. You starve me.? Bones draped in moth wings sewn with cobwebs. ?This way,? Rusty chortled, ignoring Mystery?s odd pronouncement. She ushered them through the immense lobby and into a large tearoom full of gilded mirrors, tinkling crystal, and overly perfumed ladies with freshly blown-out hair. The round, white-clothed table had been laid with a silver tea service and a three-tiered silver tray covered with freshly baked scones, pots of homemade jam, and tiny cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Two half-empty martini glasses stood on the table, ready to be polished off. ?We?ve been having a little party to celebrate Mystery?s debut,? Rusty explained merrily. She sat down and tossed back the remains of her drink. The queen of poesy gives a tempting tug. Dan sat down next to her and put his red leather book on the table. ?What debut?? Rusty grabbed a blueberry scone and slathered it with butter, shoving the whole thing into her enormous orangey-pink mouth, where it disappeared instantly. ?Good, you brought your observations book. Have you been writing everything down? Remember, nothing is inconsequential!? She winked at Mystery. ?Who knows? It could all add up to a book!? Mystery giggled and glanced at Dan. ?I finished my novel,? she confided huskily. House on fire! House on fire! Dan rubbed his thumb over the tines of his fork, as he absorbed the information. Mystery had finished writing an entire novel in less than a week and all he?d done was write one crappy Valentine?s Day poem for Vanessa. He couldn?t even bear to read Vanessa?s response after he?d sent the poem to her, that was how badly it sucked. ?But I thought you?d just started it,? he said, feeling weirdly betrayed. ?I had. But Sunday night I fell off the plateau and kept gathering momentum, and I just couldn?t stop writing until I finished. I e-mailed it to Rusty at dawn this morning, just as the street cleaners were ar............