justified in that…to an extent. After the girl just left us standing there, it had been Alona who’d pulled it together and led me out, through the backyard and to the next block over, where I’d parked the Dodge. I’d been reeling still, torn between trying to follow the ghost-talker girl and just getting out of there before I got caught.
Alona had had no such qualms. She’d dragged me to the car and then, on the way to my house, made me tell her everything she’d missed while she’d been gone.
Unsurprisingly, none of those details—the silver that had been stolen and then restolen, Mrs. Ruiz’s attack on me, the weapon the girl had used against Mrs. Ruiz and almost Alona—had improved her mood.
Now in the bathroom at my house, where first aid was supposed to be happening, she was evidently still mulling over everything and blowing things way out of proportion, in my opinion. Thankfully, my house was currently empty. Mymom was at the movies with Sam, her semiboyfriend/boss from the diner where she worked.
“So, she could have killed me with that thing, whatever it was, in her hand?” Alona demanded. “Just wiped me out of existence because she didn’t like the way I was looking at her or something?”
I hesitated, beginning to reconsider the wisdom of this conversation when I didn’t have enough—or any—facts…and when Alona was obviously pissed and in a position to cause me pain. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “I don’t know what the device does exactly, but it definitely did something to Mrs. Ruiz.”
Alona removed another splinter from my back with brutal efficiency, and I winced.
“I stopped her before she hurt you,” I pointed out through gritted teeth. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” She waved the tweezers around. “Your new best friend is a homicidal maniac with mysterious weapons and hair that could be used to remove rust off a bumper.”
At least she had her priorities straight. I resisted the urge to point out that since Alona was already technically dead, it wouldn’t really be homicide. I do have some sense of self-preservation.
“Look, she didn’t know,” I said. “As far as she knew, you were another ghost who was going to try to hurt her.”
“So quick to take her side,” she muttered. She bumped past me to wash her hands at the sink.
I stared at her. “What is wrong with you?”
“You know nothing about her, why she was there, even what all that stuff she had with her does.” She scrubbed her hands ferociously under the water. “Do you even know what happened to Mrs. Ruiz? Where she ended up after your friend made her vanish?”
“I—”
“No, you don’t,” she answered for me. “This girl just waves around her cool toys, and you’re hooked. No questions asked.” She shoved past me to dry her hands on a towel.
“I don’t think it’s really an issue since I’ll probably never see her again,” I said. “She wouldn’t even give me her name.” Which sucked. Maybe I could figure out some other way to track her down, just to talk, exchange some information.
She turned to face me. “Seriously? You’re not actually falling for this, are you?”
“What? Why?” I felt like we were in two completely different conversations…or on two different planets.
“First of all, not telling you her name is a form of manipulation. It only makes you want to know it more.” She shook her head at me in disgust. “Classic girl move. How do you not know this?” She paused and then said, “Never mind. I forgot who I was talking to.”
Nice. Just because I’d spent most of high school avoiding social contact…
“Or, it’s possible she really didn’t want me to know,” I pointed out.
“Then why not make something up? How would you know?”
I opened my mouth and shut it without saying anything. That was kind of a good point.
She flipped her hair behind her shoulders and ticked another point off on her fingers.
Alona had had no such qualms. She’d dragged me to the car and then, on the way to my house, made me tell her everything she’d missed while she’d been gone.
Unsurprisingly, none of those details—the silver that had been stolen and then restolen, Mrs. Ruiz’s attack on me, the weapon the girl had used against Mrs. Ruiz and almost Alona—had improved her mood.
Now in the bathroom at my house, where first aid was supposed to be happening, she was evidently still mulling over everything and blowing things way out of proportion, in my opinion. Thankfully, my house was currently empty. Mymom was at the movies with Sam, her semiboyfriend/boss from the diner where she worked.
“So, she could have killed me with that thing, whatever it was, in her hand?” Alona demanded. “Just wiped me out of existence because she didn’t like the way I was looking at her or something?”
I hesitated, beginning to reconsider the wisdom of this conversation when I didn’t have enough—or any—facts…and when Alona was obviously pissed and in a position to cause me pain. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “I don’t know what the device does exactly, but it definitely did something to Mrs. Ruiz.”
Alona removed another splinter from my back with brutal efficiency, and I winced.
“I stopped her before she hurt you,” I pointed out through gritted teeth. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” She waved the tweezers around. “Your new best friend is a homicidal maniac with mysterious weapons and hair that could be used to remove rust off a bumper.”
At least she had her priorities straight. I resisted the urge to point out that since Alona was already technically dead, it wouldn’t really be homicide. I do have some sense of self-preservation.
“Look, she didn’t know,” I said. “As far as she knew, you were another ghost who was going to try to hurt her.”
“So quick to take her side,” she muttered. She bumped past me to wash her hands at the sink.
I stared at her. “What is wrong with you?”
“You know nothing about her, why she was there, even what all that stuff she had with her does.” She scrubbed her hands ferociously under the water. “Do you even know what happened to Mrs. Ruiz? Where she ended up after your friend made her vanish?”
“I—”
“No, you don’t,” she answered for me. “This girl just waves around her cool toys, and you’re hooked. No questions asked.” She shoved past me to dry her hands on a towel.
“I don’t think it’s really an issue since I’ll probably never see her again,” I said. “She wouldn’t even give me her name.” Which sucked. Maybe I could figure out some other way to track her down, just to talk, exchange some information.
She turned to face me. “Seriously? You’re not actually falling for this, are you?”
“What? Why?” I felt like we were in two completely different conversations…or on two different planets.
“First of all, not telling you her name is a form of manipulation. It only makes you want to know it more.” She shook her head at me in disgust. “Classic girl move. How do you not know this?” She paused and then said, “Never mind. I forgot who I was talking to.”
Nice. Just because I’d spent most of high school avoiding social contact…
“Or, it’s possible she really didn’t want me to know,” I pointed out.
“Then why not make something up? How would you know?”
I opened my mouth and shut it without saying anything. That was kind of a good point.
She flipped her hair behind her shoulders and ticked another point off on her fingers.
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