"No." I glare at the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt still in its bag, then reach for one that he didn't buy me.
"Well; you could've let me listen, so I could give you the gist."
"Double no." I twist my hair into a bun, then stab it with a pencil to hold it in place.
"Well, don't take it out on your hair. I mean, jeez, what'd it ever do to you?" She laughs. But when I don't respond she looks at me and says, "I don't get you. Why are you always so angry?
So you lost him on the freeway, and he forgot to give you his number. Big deal. I mean, when did you get so dang paranoid?"
I shake my head and turn away, knowing she's right. I am angry. And paranoid. And things far worse than that. Just your everyday, garden-variety, easily annoyed, thought-hearing, aura seeing, spirit-sensing freak. But what she doesn't know is that there's more to the story than I'm willing to share.
Like Drina trailing us to Disneyland.
And how Damen always disappears whenever she's near.
I turn back to Riley, shaking my head as I take in her sleek shiny costume. "How long are you going to play Halloween?"
She folds her arms and pouts. "For as long as I want."
And when I see her bottom lip quiver, I feel like the world's biggest grouch.
"Look, I'm sorry," I say, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, wishing my life would just stabilize, find some kind of balance.
"No you're not." She glares at me. "It's so obvious you're not."
"Riley, I am, really. And believe me, I don't want to fight." She shakes her head and gazes up at the ceiling, tapping her foot against the carpeted floor.
"Are you coming?" I head for the door, but she refuses to answer. So I take a deep breath, and say, "Come on, Riley. You know I can't afford to be late. Please make up your mind."
She closes her eyes and shakes her head and when she looks at me again, her eyes have gone red. "I don't have to be here, you know.
I grip the door handle, needing to leave yet knowing I can't, not after she's said that. "What're you talking about?"
"I mean, here! All of this! You and me. Our little visits. I don't have to do this."
I stare at her, my stomach curling, willing her to stop, not wanting to hear any more. I've gotten so used to her presence I never considered the alternative, that there might be someplace else she'd rather be.
"But-but I thought you liked being here?" I say, my throat tight and sore, my voice betraying my panic.
"I do like being here. But, well, maybe it's not the right thing.
Maybe I should be somewhere else! Did you ever think of that?" She's looking at me, her eyes full of anguish and confusion, and even though I'm now officially late for school, there's no way I can leave.
"Riley-I-what exactly do you mean?" I ask, wishing I could rewind this whole morning and start over again.
"Well, Ava says-"
"Ava?" My eyes practically bug out of my head.
"Yeah, you know, the psychic, from the Halloween party? The one who could see me?"
I shake my head and open the door, looking over my shoulder to say, "I hate to break it to you, but Ava's a quack. A phony. A charlatan. A con artist! You shouldn't listen to a word she says. She's crazy!"
But Riley just shrugs, her eyes on mine. "She said some really interesting things."
And her voice bears so much pain and worry, I'll say anything to make it go away. "Listen." I peer down the hall, even though I know Sabine's no longer here.
"I don't want to hear about Ava. I mean, if you want to visit her, even after everything I just told you, then fine, it's not like I can stop you. Just remember that Ava doesn't know us. And she has absolutely no right to judge us or the fact that we like to hang together. It's none of her business.