“What is that?” I whispered, edging away from the nearest wall as the thin end of one vine reached for me like it knew I was there. My voice shook. My hands shook. This was impossible. All of it. This couldn’t be real.

Luca grabbed my arm, and I turned to see that he’d stopped me from stepping on another, thicker vine crawling slowly across the floor toward us.

“Crimson creeper. Don’t touch it.”

I had no intention of touching it. But I had to know. “What happens if I touch it?”

“The thorns secrete a fluid that will digest your organs from the inside out, over a period of about a week. But you’ll die screaming some time during the first twenty-four hours.”

My breath caught in my throat and refused to move. “You’re serious?”

“I never joke about carnivorous plants. Except that one in Little Shop of Horrors.”

“Little what?”

“Little Shop…” He stopped and shook his head when he found no comprehension in my eyes. “Never mind. My dad likes musical horror. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve sat through Rocky Horror Picture Show and Sweeney Todd. Watch where you step.”

“Ugh. Why are these things growing inside the building?” I said, when one of the thick green vines curled up at its end, like a creepy finger giving me a “come here” gesture. “I don’t even like regular plants. Except for corsages and long-stemmed roses.” And those only hurt you when they don’t show up.

Luca laughed, like it didn’t bother him that we were suddenly someplace where killer plants grew on interior walls, even though we hadn’t actually gone anywhere. But his laugh sounded kind of forced, like maybe it was for my benefit. “Haven’t you ever been camping?” he said, and I had to glance at him again to see if he was serious.

“Only if you count my thirteenth birthday sleepover, when ten of us camped out on air mattresses in the living room, watching a marathon of America’s Next Top Model. You know, in high definition, on a fifty-inch screen, you can see every single pore on a person’s face. Close-ups are way overutilized.”

“Um, no. That doesn’t count. You’re not camping unless you’re communing with nature.”

“I’d rather ‘commune’ with my air conditioner, my electric lights, and my LCD screen.” Bugs, poison oak, and bottom-dwelling pond fish were not on my list of spring must-have accessories. “Where are we, Luca? Have you been here before?”

“Here specifically? No.” He frowned and took another careful step. “But…that’s kind of a complicated question.”

“This is a nightmare, right?” I whispered, tiptoeing through the tangle of vines slithering slowly toward us on the floor, inhaling and exhalingwith deliberation. “Please tell me I’m asleep?” Because none of this made any sense.

“This is definitely a nightmare, but you’re not asleep. Crimson creeper only thrives where there’s a steady food supply, which means we’re not alone. We have to get out of here. Where’s the nearest exit?”

“How the hell should I know?” I backed carefully away from another vine, and my gaze snagged on something caught in a tangle of green on the wall to my left. Something small and furry. Something dead, dripping yellowish gunk through an open wound on its leg.

Ew! Disgust overwhelmed my fear for the first time in the three minutes since I’d opened my eyes in hell, and I clutched Luca’s hand tighter.

“Sophie, look at me,” he said softly, and I did. He was the only thing in this whole nightmare worth looking at anyway. He was the only part I wanted to still see when I woke up. “This is your school. You know where we are. How do we get out?”

I shook my head. “This isn’t my school. I’ve never been here before.” Not even in my very worst fears. Not even in my nightmares.

“Yes, you have. Look.” He pointed at the floor. “The same tile.” I looked down to find dingy whitish floor tiles, identical to the ones we’d been standing on before the world of bizarre opened its mouth and swallowed me whole. Only this tile was crawling with creepy green eat-you-alive vines. “We never left the school. We just kind of…fell through the layer we live in and landed in the one beneath that. Like the layers of a cake—if you stick your fork through one and into the next, you’re still touching cake. And we’re still in your school. Down there’s the water fountain. See?”

I had to look extrahard to see the fountain, because the stainless steel box was almost entirely covered by yet more vines. But it was there. He was right. Somehow, this was my school, and that was the fountain outside Mrs. Foley’s biology class, in the science hall. Which meant that the nearest exit was…

“Teacher’s lounge. Around the corner on the right. It opens into the quad.”

“Let’s go.” He took my hand again, and we picked our way carefully through the vines slowly twisting on the floor, grasping toward our feet with every step.

“How is this possible—these layers? This is my school, but…it isn’t. It’s like a Halloween maze with the same blueprint as my school. But that doesn’t make any sense. How can a school have layers?”

I never thought I’d miss the ugly floors and painted-white cinder-block walls. And the lockers! I could hardly tell they were there, beneath the mass of vines tangled in and all around them now. Tiny vines even grew from the locker vents to trail to the floor.