good thing at all. I think it’s a setup is what it is. They’re planning something.”
“You think this will happen every time, we, you know?”
“God, I hope not,” I say.
Silence follows. Both of us chewing it over.
Then Vauxhall says, sitting up, “Tell me everything about the weekend.”
I do. I tell her about Belle and the Diviners and how we went to the park and met up with the Metal Sisters. I leave out the Janice stuff, but I tell her about Slow Bob and Grandpa Razor. “With all the names and everything,” I say, “it sounds like something from a cartoon, but these people, I’ve seen them, Vaux. They know what they’re doing. I just don’t want to walk in there blind.”
Vauxhall says, “Then you don’t.”
I tell her I have an idea. I tell her it’s one that I hate but the only I think will work. But knowing what we know, I say, “It’s probably not safe. It’s certainly not safe.”
And after I explain my idea, Vauxhall says, “I’m only doing this for you.”
“Tell me it’s a terrible idea. What about what he did?”
“But it’ll work.”
“No. I know. But still, he’s-”
“I’m not a wuss, Ade. I’ve known him long enough.”
She kisses me so hard I fall over. On top of me, her elbows digging into my chest, she says, “Only for you, and only this once. I love you.”
FOUR
I’m at the Tattered Cover bookstore, trying to drink a coffee, trying to read through a copy of
It’s because I’m shaking.
The place only just opened ten minutes ago.
My feet are kicking. My fingers tapping. I keep cracking my knuckles. I keep sighing a little too loudly. It’s like I’m sitting on the bench ready for my turn at bat and I’m always the next one, I’m stuck in this jittery limbo. Also I keep checking my cell.
Vauxhall is with Jimi.
She’s at his place. Doing things.
My hand shaking as it stirs my cup of mint mocha for the eightieth time, I’m reminding myself why I set this up. I’m convincing myself, this for the ninetieth time, that Vauxhall going over there is worth it. That this needs to happen.
Fact is: I’ve whored my girlfriend out.
The love of my life, I’ve sent her over to Jimi’s so she can jump his bones and read his memory. I’ve sent her over there so she can dig into his head and find out what he knows about Grandpa Razor.
My stomach, it’s like someone else’s fist is in there going nuts.
The reason I keep checking my cell is because Vauxhall told me it’d only be an hour. Just one hour and she can get the information and get out of Jimi’s house. Hopefully, get out of Jimi’s life.
It’s only been twenty minutes.
I’m sweating like it’s raining on me.
My heart, it’s doing things it shouldn’t be able to.
And worst of all, sitting here pouring more sugar into my already too sweet coffee, my anger is starting to surge again. My ears getting hot. My skin almost blistering. But then my cell rings and the anger, the stress, it’s almost instantly relieved.
Almost.
It’s Paige. I answer, voice strained, and she says, “I thought fall break was all about sleeping in. What the hell are you doing sipping coffee and reading, wait, is that a graffiti art magazine?”
I’m confused only for a flash before Paige sits down across from me and winks. She makes a big dramatic show of flipping her cell off and then says, “I think you need to catch me up.”
“What are you doing here?”
Paige says, “You know what’s really funny? I like to come here second Monday of the month, bright and early before Mrs. Schmidt’s class, and just flip through a few magazines and sip some coffee. Mostly I read the politics, though.”
“You don’t ever come here, Paige.”
She claps. “You’re right. I had a doctor’s appointment and was taking the scenic route, you know, Colfax, home and saw your car parked out front. What exactly are you doing here and why haven’t you called me about anything?”
I tell Paige first and foremost that it’s been a crazy ride. I tell her, in no particular order, that Vauxhall and I had sex, that I’ve been hanging out with Belle, meeting a whole tribe of people with crazy abilities like mine, that I’m going to confront Jimi’s dad, and that there’s a really good chance something gnarly will go down. I say, “And it’s going to happen soon. Really, something super gnarly is about to happen in the next thirty minutes.”
“Like what?” Paige asks, looking around the store. She’s panicked. I’ve seen it before. She looks the same way she did when her parents walked in on us smoking pot the first time. Her face is registering that level of high-grade nervous tension.
“Like I think I might explode. That’s the other thing I didn’t mention. Me, I’ve kind of started changing. You know how a guy slowly realizes he’s becoming a werewolf. Yeah. Like that.”
Paige leans in, softly she asks, “You’re turning into a werewolf?”
“Pretty much,” I say. “I’ve got this anger management problem that’s just come up out of nowhere. Before, when I had the vision of me killing Jimi-”
“Wait? What?”
“I didn’t tell you that?”
“Uh, no.” Paige cocks her head to one side and looks at me with one eye the way a parrot would. “I think I’d remember you telling me about killing someone.”
“I haven’t, though. That’s the thing. I’m trying to stop myself.”
Paige grabs my mocha and takes a long, hearty swig of it. Then she wipes her upper lip with the little napkin my drink was sitting on and says, “Okay, you’re going to have to explain all that stuff at a later date. You know, like a time when I’m more awake and didn’t just have a really awkward conversation with the pediatrician I’ve seen since I was five about why I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment. But for right now, tell me again what you’re doing sitting here looking all stressed out?”
“I sent Vauxhall over to Jimi’s house so she’ll have sex with him and read his memories.”
“What? No you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
I nod. “She went like twenty three minutes ago.” Then I check my watch, “Actually, twenty-six minutes ago.”
Paige grabs my face, both her hands biting into my cheeks, and she stares me down and says, “That is one of the worst things I think you’ve ever said. You need to leave. You need to find her. This is the most retarded thing you’ve done yet.”
I say, through smushed-up lips, “You’re right. I should leave.”
“I’ll keep your drink,” Paige says, letting me go. “Call me.”
And I go running out, knocking over chairs, knocking down tables.
FIVE
Jimi’s house is maybe seven minutes away by car.
