Claire was gushing. It was a trait that carried over from high school. Gossip, gossip, boys, boys, boys, ‘I think Mr. Fawn is out to get me’—that kind of stuff. Conversation Maria hadn’t ever been too fond of.
Maria held up a hand. She had to tell her best friend what was happening to her. Claire would, if it was her. They told each other everything. Whether Claire believed it—well, that was up to whatever gods the beings of Oriceran prayed to.
“Claire,” Maria said, her voice deadly serious, “I’m not the same Maria.”
“What?” Claire replied, rolling her eyes. “Was the real Maria abducted by aliens, or something?” She leaned forward and knocked lightly on the top of Maria’s head. “Hello in there. Do you come in peace? Do you want me to take you to our leader?” She said the last part in a robotic voice. “I don’t know who I should take you to, actually, now that I think about it.”
“Claire!” Maria said. “Seriously, I need you to listen to me.”
Claire took a step back. “You’re not joking, are you?”
Maria pointed to her lips, which were set in a grim line. “No, I’m not. This is serious, and both of our lives might depend on whether you believe me or not.”
“Well, that is just way too unfair right there,” Claire said.
“Can I tell you or not?”
“Now, I’m not sure I want to know.”
She’s an alien, wooooooo, Sherlock said. Maria ignored him, though that was probably the best and most simple way to put it.
Somewhere in the parking lot, a car horn honked.
It was a nice day, but Maria would be lying if she said she hadn’t gotten goosebumps.
“Okay, I want to know,” Claire said.
“Let’s go to your car.”
“All right, but if you’re an alien, I’m going to pepper spray the shit out of you.”
Maria smirked. “If I’m an alien, how do you know I’m not immune to pepper spray?” She turned and walked to the Kia Rio parked in front of the Honeybaked Ham, leaving Claire on the sidewalk.
When Maria noticed Claire wasn’t following her, she said, “Oh, c’mon, I’m just kidding!”
“About being an alien?”
“Well…”
Eventually, Claire opened the Rio. She looked on edge. Maria tried her best to ease the previous night’s discovery into the flow of conversation, but she probably shouldn’t have started with, “Last night, I saw a dead boy.”
Claire slid in her seat, reaching for the door handle.
“No, no, no,” Maria said. She grabbed Claire’s arm. “Not like a ghost…well—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Claire said. “Where’s my pepper spray?” She sounded like she was joking, but Maria didn’t want to push it.
“I can prove it,” she said.
“Prove that you saw a ghost?”
“Not that, exactly. Okay, okay, let me backtrack. Let’s start small.”
Claire waited with anticipation.
Maria smiled and patted the middle console. Sherlock put his two front paws on it and stood in the middle. “Okay, here,” Maria said, “small.”
“Small,” Claire repeated.
Maria took a deep breath. “I can talk to Sherlock.”
Claire burst out in laughter. “Okay, okay,” she said, holding her stomach. “This is too much.”
“Sherlock, nod so Claire knows it’s true.”
Sherlock nodded.
Claire tilted her head. “That’s nothing,” she said. “Simple dog tricks.”
“You’re right,” Maria said, looking at the Bloodhound.
“I always knew you and that dog were a little too close…”
Tell her to open her mouth so I can sniff what she had for breakfast, Sherlock suggested. I am a Bloodhound, after all.
Maria nodded. “I think I’ll leave out that last part.”
“Huh?” Claire said.
“Oh, I was talking to Sherlock, sorry.”
Claire shook her head. “If you and Joe end up going out, you really gotta ditch the dog. Hey! Why is he all over me like that?”
Sherlock was up in her face sniff-sniffing.
Oooh, eggs. Sunny side up, and wheat toast with strawberry jelly on top.
Maria repeated what had come into her head by telepathy, by magic.
“Huh?” Claire said.
“It’s what you had for breakfast. Sherlock just told me.”
The color in Claire’s face drained. Now she looked like a piece of blank computer paper. “What—how? How did you know that?”
“I just told you. I. Can. Talk. To. My. Dog.”
“You must’ve been spying on me or something.”
Maria took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m gonna show you firsthand. And everything that happened to us last night will make sense. Well…as much sense as it can make.”
“I’m scared,” Claire said, brushing her dark hair out of her face. It didn’t sound like she was kidding.
Suddenly, Maria brought her hand up and flicked Claire in the ear. The sound it made was a meaty thump.
“OW!” Claire said. She grabbed her ear. “What the fuck was that for?”
Maria didn’t answer. Her hand came up again, and she flicked Claire in the neck, then under the chin, and then on her arm.
“Seriously, stop it!” Claire said, moving her hand from one spot to the other. Her neck was beginning to turn red. She didn’t have enough hands to cover all the targeted spots.
Maria sighed. She hadn’t wanted it to go this far, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She flicked Claire in the spot. Right in her chest.
Claire wailed and, finally, Maria got the reaction she wanted.
Claire lashed out and smacked Maria full on the face.
Slap!
It stung like hundred bee stings.
Maria expected it and took it. Her face grew hot.
Claire’s face was twisted into something gruesome. She looked like that last girl in Friday the 13th,, after she’d been put through the ringer.
Now Maria felt her arms growing as hot as the smack on her face. A humming vibrated throughout her body.
The bright sunshine streaming in through the Kia’s windshield disappeared, and was replaced with the blue glow of Maria’s skin.
Claire’s mouth opened and her jaw dropped. “What…what the fuck?”
Maria grinned despite the pain in her face.
“What is happening?”
Maria closed her eyes. She felt time and space run over her and through her. She
