“He pivoted, gaze following me as I crossed to the shower and turned on the cold water, so it would drown out our conversation without steaming up the room.
Great," he muttered."Now they're going to think we're showering together. Maybe we can just tell them we were washing off the crawl space dirt and trying to conserve water.”
“Simon: Anyone ever tell you your sense of timing really sucks?
Derek: That's why I don't play the drums. Now what's up?”
“I'm behind you." I spun to see Derek. "I can't win," he said. "You're as skittish as a kitten.”
“Wow. The guy can make me feel stupid even when he's telling me I don't have to let him make me feel stupid.”
“Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me.”
“He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and had stopped in the middle of the hall, furiously scratching one bare forearm. "Fleas?" I said.”
“You saw a ghost, didn't you?" he said.
To my relief, I managed to laugh. "Hate to break it to you, but
there's no such thing as ghosts."
Huh."
His gaze traveled around the laundry room, like a cop searching
for an escaped convict. When he turned that
piercing look on me, its intensity sucked the backbone out of me.
What do you see, Chloe?"
I -I-I don't s-s-s-"
Slow down." He snapped the words, impatient. "What do they
look like? Do they talk to you?"
You really want to know?"
Yeah."
I chewed my lip, then lifted onto my tiptoes. He bent to listen.
They wear white sheets with big eye holes. And they say 'Boo!'" I
glowered up at him. "Now get out of my
way."
I expected him tosneer. Cross his arms and say, Make me, little girl.His lips twitched and I steeled myself, then I realized he was smiling.Laughing at me.
He stepped aside. I swept past him to the stairs.”
“Whatever it is," I said, "the point is moot because as long as I'm on these pills, I can't make contact to ask."
Derek ... snapped, "Then you need to stop taking the pills."
Love to. If I could. But after what happened last night, they're giving me urine tests now."
Ugh. That's harsh." Simon went quiet, then snapped his fingers.
Hey, I've got an idea. It's kinda gross, but what if you take the pills, crush them and mix them with your, you know, urine."
Derek stared at him.
What?"
You did pass chem last year, didn't you?"
Simon flipped him the finger. "Okay, genius, what's your idea?"
I'll think about it. ..."
***
Here," Derek whispered, pressing an empty Mason jar into my hand. He'd pulled me aside after class and we were now standing at the base of the boy's staircase. "Take this up to your room and hide it."
It's a ... jar."
He grunted, exasperated that I was so dense I failed to see the critical importance of hiding an empty Mason jar in my room.
It's for your urine."
My what?"
He rolled his eyes, a growl-like sound sliding through his teeth as
he leaned down, closer to my ear. "Urine. Pee. Whatever. For the testing."
I lifted the jar to eye level. "I think they'll give me something
smaller."
...
You took your meds today, right?" he whispered.
I nodded.
Then use this jar to save it."
Save . . . ?"
Your urine. If you give them some of today's tomorrow, it'll seem like you're still taking your meds."
You want me to . . . dole it out? Into specimen jars?"
Got a better idea?"
Um, no, but ..." I lifted the jar and stared into it.
Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me."
Simon peeked around the corner, brows lifted. "I was going to ask what you guys were doing, but hearing that, I think I'll pass.”
“Rae burned me. She has matches or something. Look, look..." Tori pulled down the collar of her T-shirt.
"Leave your cloths on, Tori," Simon said, raising his hands to his eyes. "Please.”
“I let out a laugh that sounded more like the yip of a startled poodle. "Superp-powers? I wish. My powers aren't winning me a slot on the Cartoon Network anytime soon... except as a comic relief. Ghost Whisperer Junior. Or Ghost Screamer, more like it. Tune in, every week, as Chloe Saunders runs screaming from yet another ghost looking for her help."
Okay, superpower might be pushing it.”
“That's what we all want, isn't it? Power without price.”
“Just stay still, if you stay still it can't find you. That's sharks, you idiot. Sharks and dinosaurs. This isn't Jurassic Park.”
“That's what being crazy was, wasn't it? You thought you were fine. Everyone else knew better.”
“He said "cool" like I say a Spanish word when I'm not sure of the pronunciation.”
“When Rae got back, she spread her empty hands wide and said "Okay, guess where I hid it."
She even turned around for me, but I couldn't see a bulge big enough to hide a flashlight. With a grin, she reached down the front of her shirt into the middle of her bra, and pulled out a flashlight with flourish.
I laughed.
"Cleavage is great," she said. "Like an extra pocket.”
“What's wrong?"
I didn't say a word."
Something's up. What is it?"
Nothing."
His head turned, gaze going to mine. "Yeah?"
Yes."
A snort and he returned to his bowl…”
“It's because when we sneeze, our soul flies out our nose and if no one says 'bless you,' the devil can snatch it.”
“You took your meds today, right?" he whispered.
I nodded.
Then use this jar to save it."
Save . . . ?"
Your urine. If you give them some of today's tomorrow, it'll seem like you're still taking your meds."
You want me to . . . dole it out? Into specimen jars?"
Got a better idea?"
Um, no, but ..." I lifted the jar and stared into it.
Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me."
Simon peeked around the corner, brows lifted. "I was going to ask what you guys were doing, but hearing that, I think I'll pass.”
“He rolled his eyes. "First, my Dad's Korean and my mom was Swedish. Second, I totally suck at math. I don't like cuckoo clocks or skiing or fancy chocolate either."
I sputtered a laugh. "I think that's Swiss.”
“Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I’m still limited to the experiences with my life.
How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it’s no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, “Thank God that’s not me”.”
“Don't talk to the crazy kids. I longed to shout back that we weren't crazy. I'd mistaken her kid for a ghost, that's all.
I wondered whether they had books about his sort of thing. Fifty Ways to Tell the Living from the Dead Before You Wind Up in a Padded Room. Yep, I'm sure the library carried that one.”
“Cleavage is great," she said. "Like an extra pocket.”
“Tori joined us for dinner --in body, at least. She spent the meal practicing for a role in the next zombie movie, expressionless, methodically moving fork to mouth, sometimes even with food on it.”
“Do you like manga?" she asked after a minute. "Anime?"
"Anime's cool. I'm not really into it, but 1 like Japanese movies,
animated or not."
"Well, I'm into it. I watch the shows, read the books, chat on the boards, and all that. But this girl I know, she's
completely into it. She spends most of her allowance on the books and DVDs. She can recite dialogue from
them." She caught my gaze. "So would you say she belongs here?"
"No. Most kids are that way about something, right? With me, it's
movies. Like knowing who directed a sci-fi movie made before I was born.”
“Why is it that every time a girl says a guy is bothering her, it's fluffed off with oh, he just likes you, as if that makes it okay?”
“I'd been staring at the search term for at least five minutes. One
word. Necromancer.”
“Simon's walls were covered in what looked like pages ripped from a comic book, but when I squinted, I realized they were hand drawn. Some were black-and-white, but most were in full color,
everything from character sketches to splash panels to full pages, done in a style that wasn't quite manga, wasn't
quite comic book.”
“If I was crazy, would I know it? That's what being crazy was, wasn't it? You thought you were fine. Everyone else knew better.”
“Don't talk to the crazy kids. I longed to shout back that we weren't crazy. I'd mistaken her kid for a ghost, that's all.”
“I’m not sharing. You’re mine. No one will touch you but me. I have an addictive personality. I always have. And you just became my number one addiction. I’m gonna want this. A lot. I’m needy and demanding, and now you’re the only one who can meet that need.”
“But I wanted to tell you before I left how completely abjectly sorry I am for all the pain I have caused you and that if I die you were the one true love of my life. By the time you read this I will be gone but please know I am still always at your side.... Yours forever Henery William Schoonmaker”
“Second, not only does the gospel prepare me to face my sin, it also frees me up to do so. Facing our sin causes us to feel guilty. Of course we feel guilty because we are guilty. And if I believe, consciously or unconsciously, that God still counts my guilt against me, my instinctive sense of self-protection forbids me to acknowledge my sin and guilt, or, at the least, I seek to minimize it. But we cannot begin to deal with a particular manifestation of sin, such as anger or self-pity, until we first openly acknowledge its presence and activity in our lives. So I need the assurance that my sin is forgiven before I can even acknowledge it, let alone begin to deal with it.”
“I've always wanted all or nothing!”
“There are moments . . . brief, shining moments when the impossible becomes possible. Never forget that.”
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