I groan.
“Trish is joking, right?” Kendele asks. “I mean, you don’t exorcise zombies—you lop off their heads.”
“It wasn’t a zombie,” I say. “It was a seven-armed Japanese woman.”
Kendele breaks into laughter. Nobody ever believes me.
She changes the subject, much to my relief. “Hey, there’s that new movie coming out, A Walk in the Rain. Ever heard of it?”
“Not really. I’m not into chick flicks.”
“It’s playing tonight at the mall,” Kendele persists, smiling at me. “What do you think?”
“Uh, that’s great,” I lie, because the title alone sounds like I’d rather have my teeth drilled. “You and Trish ought to go, if you really want to catch it.”
Kendele’s mouth falls open and Trish has a giggling fit. I don’t understand girls at all.
“Actually, I have a better idea,” Trish pipes up before Kendele can say anything else. “Keren McNeil’s having a party later tonight. It’s that big house over on Buckle Street. Wanna come? As, you know, a thank-you for everything. Like a reward for helping Andy and me.”
I think Trish and I have very different definitions of what constitutes a “reward.”
Kendele shoots her a warning glance. “I don’t think Tark’s interested in going to a party full of jocks, Trish.”
“Why not? I’m sure he is.”
I clear my throat. “That sounds really, um, cool. But I’ve already got other plans.” That was true enough at least.
Trish shrugs. “Bummer. Well, if you have time, feel free to stop by. Kendele and I will be there, and I’m sure the guys won’t mind.”
Kendele’s still frowning at me when she and Trish get up to leave. Once they’re gone, I relax. I’ve never really gotten the hang of talking to girls, and Kendele’s acting especially odd today.
I turn back to my phone and Callie’s email. My cousin’s a junior at Boston University, but we visit each other during the longer holiday breaks. Callie’s not a big fan of Okiku, though Okiku has been nothing but nice to her. Some prejudices are hard to break.
Hey, Tark!
I’m going to keep this short and sweet. I have a date with Trevor in five minutes, but I wanted to dash this off to you first.
I pause to roll my eyes. Trevor Goodman is Callie’s new boyfriend.
It’s official. In addition to our Japan trip, I’ll see you and Uncle Doug for your graduation. After all, I’m pretty sure finishing high school wouldn’t be the same without me there to celebrate!
I’m so proud of you. I know Uncle Doug agrees, and I know Aunt Yoko would too. You’ve grown into such a good person. You’ve always been more like a brother to me than a cousin. An annoying little brother, but hey—no one’s perfect!
Okay, wrapping up now before I get too mushy. How are things with Okiku? All that night creeping is bad for your health. Can’t you guys figure out a way for Okiku to go out on her own so you can stay at home and be safe? (I know I’ve asked this a billion times before, but I’m thinking there has got to be a better way.)
See you in a couple of weeks! Japan!!!
I swallow another grin. From the way she talks, you’d think Callie had never been to Japan before, despite us making a yearly trip together.
I finish the rest of my sandwich with little interruption and move to stand. My chair scrapes back and bumps into someone behind me.
“Hey!”
Great. Of all the chairs in all the cafeterias in all the Washington, DC, private schools, golden boy McNeil is standing behind mine.
I turn. The star quarterback frowns at me, his teammates surrounding him. I accidentally jostled his tray when I stood, and water’s spilled over his sandwich.
“Sorry,” I say and take a step to leave, but one of his flunkies, Matheson, blocks my path.
“That’s all you gonna say, Halloway?”
Inwardly, I sigh. Bullies have avoided me since that water fountain incident, but that doesn’t mean some people aren’t itching to try again.
“Accidents happen.” I try to edge away from the boys, but a sharp prod on my shoulder forces me back.
“Looks like someone owes McNeil a sandwich, freak.”
I dig into my pocket and hand McNeil a ten-dollar bill—partly because it was my fault, but mostly because I’m not in the mood for a confrontation. The jock looks taken aback by my easy acquiescence, but I should have known better than to expect McNeil’s goons to be satisfied. Fact is, Matheson looks insulted, like he was the one I’d bumped into.
“Hey, you scrawny little Chink—”
He reaches over to grab the collar of my shirt.
There’s a sizzling, searing noise from overhead, and that’s all the heads-up I get before the fluorescent lights above us explode. I leap out of the way, and McNeil and his friends jump back as a cascade of sparks spill down between us. The light fixture spins crazily to one side, but the wires are still intact, which keeps it from crashing to the floor.