“So you say.”

“Ali.”

“No,” I said.

“Take from me, then.” He withdrew a brown leather wallet with a chain at the end. “Please.”

I violently shook my head. What the heck was happening here? “I don’t want your money.”

“Ali,” he repeated, his tone ragged. “Friends share.”

“We’re not that close anymore.”

He flinched. “You have to eat.”

“I will. I promise.”

“More than bagels,” he insisted.

I nodded, anything to move this conversation along. After school, I’d walk to the convenience store close to the Ankhs’ and buy bread and deli meat.

“Not just later, but now, at lunch,” he said, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “Please.”

Please.

His concern was doing something to me, weaving one of his spells around me, making me forget the world around me, the problems, taking me deeper and deeper into an obsession that had only gotten me hurt. I wanted out. I needed out.

“It’s better that we broke up, you know.” I said the words for my own benefit. “Our connection was so fast, we never took the time to get to know each other. Not really. And how would we ever have known if we truly cared about each other or if the visions had simply convinced us that we did?”

He smacked a hand against the mirror and leaned toward me. Glaring, he snapped, “I knew how I felt.”

Past tense. Why did that hurt? “I know how you felt, too. Not strongly enough to fight for me.”

A muscle ticked below his eye as he straightened, backed me into the black-and-gold-tiled wall. The warmth of his breath fanned over my face, as sure and sweet as a caress. His gaze took in every detail of my expression, lingering on my lips. Lips suddenly aching for the kisses he’d denied me during my recovery.

“We both know why I walked away,” he said. “We both know what’s going to happen.”

“Yes, so what the heck do you think you’re doing, closing in on me like this?” Good. I’d shaken off the melancholy and welcomed a bit of mettle.

“I don’t know,” he snarled, and I was suddenly face-to-face with Cole the Yorkie. “I never know anymore.”

For my own good, I forced myself to say, “That’s your problem, not mine.” Then I angled around him and walked away.

This time, he let me go.

I was getting good at not looking back.

In the cafeteria, I spent three precious dollars on a mediocre hamburger. Cole was at the table by the time I eased beside Kat and Reeve, and he watched me eat half...and try to save the other half for later.

Scowling, he planted himself at my side, scooting Kat out of the way, then unwrapped the burger and put it back in my hand. I suspected he would try to force-feed me if I resisted, so I ate the rest. My stomach nearly wept with gratitude.

He pushed a Gatorade in my direction. His? Half the contents were already gone. I’d forgotten to buy a drink, I realized, and gratefully swallowed one mouthful, then another.

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to care that he cared.

“That’s what friends are for, right? Even if they’re not close.” He put his mouth where mine had been and drained the rest.

* * *

After school, Kat and I piled into Reeve’s car. The three of us had one class together, and Mr. Toms, the teacher, had allowed us to group up for a special humanitarian project. For it, we drove to Party Palace and bought a handful of Get Well Soon balloons.

“On a totally unrelated subject,” Kat said, “do you guys want to go threezies on a gift for Aubrey Wilson’s baby shower? And by threezies I mean your dad will pay the bulk of it, Reeve. We want to get her something totes amazeballs.”

“She mentioned needing a crib,” I said. Poor girl. She had just started showing, and her boyfriend had dumped her.

Reeve nodded. “Count me in.”

As we meandered along back roads, searching for the next object we needed to complete Kat’s “most brilliant idea ever,” I checked the clouds. The sun glared at me, making my eyes water, but I still caught sight of a rabbit and moaned. No, please no. Not tonight. I wasn’t ready to face the zombies—and my reaction to them—again.

Tonight I was supposed to stay at Cole’s gym and guard the bodies the slayers left behind. But. Yeah, there was always a but with me, wasn’t there? I’d be called out just as soon as the zombies were found—and they would most certainly be found.

Would I hear the voices again? Should I just call in sick?

“I’m sure we’re going to get a terrible grade for this,” Reeve said with a groan.

“If anything, we’ll receive a certificate for awesomeness,” Kat replied.

My phone beeped. I checked the screen and stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” Kat asked.

“Cole wants to meet with me,” I said without any inflection of emotion.

Inside, I churned.

I read the text again. My house. Five. Be there.

Dang it. I’d planned to have dinner with Nana before heading over.

“When? Where?” Reeve asked, and I gave her the details.

“Are you going to go?” Kat wondered.

Hands shaking, I texted Nana. Can we reschedule? I’m so sorry, but something’s come up w/Cole.

I waited, but a response from her didn’t come.

To Cole, I texted Why?

Cole (I’d deleted the part about McHottie): Do I really need a reason?

Me: 2 talk? Yes. We’ve said all we need 2 say.

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true. I still had to drum up the courage to mention his odd behavior, as promised.

Cole: Who runs this show? Just be there.

Me: Fine.

Cole: Your enthusiasm is humbling.

Me: Go screw yourself.

Cole: I have. I prefer 2 have a partner.

I think I gasped.

“Yeah. I’m going to go,” I said. I wasn’t going to call in sick. I had responsibilities. I’d keep them.

“Hold everything.” Kat bounced up and down in her seat and clapped. “I think I see one.”

“Where?” Reeve demanded.

Kat pointed. “Pull over.”

Groaning, Reeve slowed the car, eased to the side of the road and parked. I freed one of the balloons and exited. The girls joined me, and together we approached the centerpiece of our project—a dead raccoon, its arms and legs stiff and pointing in the air.

“Gloves,” Kat said, holding out her hand.

Reeve dangled a pair just beyond her reach. “These are cashmere, you know.”

“I’m sure the raccoon will be thrilled,” she replied drily. “Even though I told you to buy latex.”

“I thought you’d appreciate something softer.” Sighing, Reeve relinquished the gloves, and Kat tugged them on. “I bought hand sanitizer instead.”

“Balloon,” she said next.

I handed it over.

Then Kat crouched over the poor dead animal and tied the ribbon to one of its wrists. There was no wind, so the Get Well Soon balloon stayed perfectly straight, flying proudly over the motionless animal.

“Your family will thank me for this one day,” she said with a nod.

“As if we’re really doing any good,” Reeve said.

“Hello, we so are. People need to be more aware of the creatures crossing the road, thank you, and this is our way of helping. It’s humorous—”

“And gross,” Reeve interjected. “And cruel.”

“And they’ll remember,” Kat finished.

We each snapped a few pictures with our phones, cleaned our hands, got back in the car and hunted the next Get Well Soon victim. I mean, recipient.

I couldn’t help comparing myself to the animals. A car crash. A part of me dying.

I prayed I had a better end but had a feeling I was going to have to adjust my to-do list yet again.

Chapter 12

Deadly Eyes Betray You

We dropped Kat off at the school parking lot, where her car waited, and drove home. Another note had been stuck to the bottom of the staircase railing. Sighing, I sailed into Mr. Ankh’s office—only to find him in a heated discussion with Mr. Holland.