“No!”
“Really sounds like it.”
“Does not.”
“Yeah, it does.”
I took a super deep breath and held it, feeling the blood pounding behind my ears. “I’m not mad you went,” I said, letting it all out at once and fighting hard to keep my voice steady. “I just . . . missed you.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that,” said Abby. “But it’s not enough reason for me to feel bad about deciding to go.”
I blinked away the rainbows in the corners of my eyes. “What? You told me you didn’t have a choice. You said your dad made you go since he couldn’t get a refund.”
“Oh, yeah . . .” Abby went very still. Her face flushed dark. “Um, about that.” Her eyes flicked to mine, then away again. “So, actually . . . I went on purpose. We could have gotten a refund. I could have stayed home. But when my dad asked me if we should cancel after you missed the deadline, I thought about it and decided I really, really wanted to go, even if you couldn’t.”
My heart stopped dead. The pillows spun around me. For one horrible moment I honestly thought I was falling through the carpet. I asked the only question I could think of.
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to miss out,” said Abby. There was a plea in her voice. “I needed something different this summer, Mags, I just did. I needed—I needed to start actually doing things and not just hang out with you imagining all the time. Your games are great, don’t get me wrong, but they’re not really my thing anymore, and with middle school coming up . . . Only I never really figured out a way to tell you, and then camp was starting . . .” She took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry if you were sad. Truly. Ever since I got back I’ve been trying to share as much of camp as I could with you, and I do honestly wish you’d been there, but it’s done now. It’s over. And I’m not sorry I went.”
It sounded like a practiced speech.
“But why didn’t you tell me?” I said around the lump in my throat. “Did you think I wouldn’t understand or something?”
“Honestly . . . ?” said Abby. She left the answer hanging, hovering in the air between us. “Look, I know you’re mad, but I said I was sorry and we can’t change it now, so let’s just move on.” She tugged at her braid, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “And you can ease up on whatever abandoned-castaway story you’re probably starting in your head. It’s not like I’m gonna make this a habit or anything.”
The unfairness of that statement shocked me. “But you’re already doing the exact same thing!” I said, jabbing a finger at the silver envelope. “You’re choosing to leave me behind again right now.”
“No,” said Abby, firing up. “I’m choosing to follow through on something I think is important, and you’re choosing not to come! This is exactly why I didn’t tell you before, Mags, because you always take everything personally. Not everything I do is about you!”
She exhaled hard and sat back, slumping against the sofa with her arms crossed.
I couldn’t speak. I was having trouble breathing. I stared down at one of the pillowcases, my vision going blurry.
“Anyway,” I finally heard her say, “we’re wasting time. I’m going to the alley. I’m taking Noriko’s offer, and I could really use your help.”
I shook my head. I was not going to cry.
“Hey,” she said, scooching closer and bopping me on the knee. “Remember how freaked out you were about the link that led to Joe’s at first? And the one to Kelly’s? I had to push you there, and it all turned out fine. This is like that. It might sound scary or strange at first, but this is how we’re gonna make everything okay. Me and you. By our powers combined. Together.”
Every knot in my stomach clenched. She was trying to get me to rally, but she was only making it worse.
She was really saying she hadn’t needed me all those other times, and she hadn’t needed me when she went away to camp, and she didn’t need me now.
And maybe I didn’t need her, either.
I shook my head.
Abby watched me for a long moment, then reached out and pulled away the blue-striped pillow, revealing a torn and grimy sofa cushion leaning at an angle. Without a word, without even glancing back, she disappeared through the link and shoved it closed behind her.
Seventeen
There’s no sound in the world quite like the sound of your best friend walking out on you.
I’d imagined plenty of awful things in my eleven and a half years of life. Epic disasters, terrible accidents, collisions, storms, floods, and invasions. And I’d always known how to deal with them. I’d always planned, and prepared, and found a way to make them right. But never once in my entire life had I imagined Abby might leave me.
I had no plan for this.
Still, there I was, all alone again in my silent, overgrown, rat-people nest, the fight with Abby bouncing off the pillows and echoing around my brain.
I sat up to leave, steadying myself against the pillow Abby had been leaning on. It was still warm. I suddenly remembered how she hugged me the day she came home from camp, and my heart seized up.
I fled to the kitchen.
The clock ticked as I walked from one side of the floor to the other, smacking at the counters. I yanked open the fridge, making the juice carton and yogurts wobble. There was plenty of good food in there. Abby and I had cleaned out most of the vegetables making the salad for Uncle Joe, but—
I slammed the fridge shut. I didn’t want to think about food if that meant thinking about Abby. I glared around. There was the house phone. What if I called my mom at work?
