My mom’s picture on the mirror was smirking at me, and I turned it backward. Moving quickly, I stripped off yesterday’s clothes and jumped into my shower to get rid of the night’s chill. I had to get Kairos’s new amulet today. I didn’t have time to wait for Ron or Barnabas to rescue me. It was only a matter of time before Kairos tracked Josh or me down by process of elimination, and I couldn’t take another night like the one I’d just gone through. I honestly didn’t know how Barnabas or Grace did it.
Refreshed by the quick splash-and-dash, I toweled off and threw on some clothes, picking a set of yellow tights to hide the slowly fading rug burn from the boat, a short purple skirt, and a matching top over a black tank top. My sneakers were still wet, but after drying off the bottoms, I put them on, wincing at the damp and wondering if my dad would notice. It wasn’t like I could wear something else.
They were made for this outfit. And if Amy didn’t like it, she could choke on my individuality. This was who I was, and I was tired of trying to fit in. Besides, Josh liked my purple hair.
Smug, I leaned across the bed and dragged my camera over. I still had five minutes or so before Josh got here. Time enough to send a picture to Wendy. She’d e-mailed me last night with a shot of her and my old boyfriend, taken on the beach at sunset. They looked good together, and after I got over my mad, I realized it was time to let go. I’d been trying to hold on to the way it had been, but I couldn’t. It was already gone. I was e-mailing the past, trying to make it my future, when my future was somewhere else. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t drive her mad with envy with my yellow tights.
Standing, I tugged the wrinkles out of my skirt, hoping the day was going to be as warm as the skies predicted. Holding the camera in front of me, I found a martial arts pose, then shifted my hand until I was in the viewfinder, reflected in the mirror above my dresser. Annoyed, I set the camera down. My bed would be in the picture, and it was still a carefully contrived mess.
Tidying it was easy, and I put the vampire teddy bear Wendy had given me in the place of honor between the lacy pillows my dad had thought I’d like. The room was nothing like the dark cave at my mom’s house. The white dresser decorated with rosebuds didn’t do it for me. Neither did the antique-looking comforter or the slew of lacy pillows that I threw off the bed every night to convince my dad that I was sleeping. The pale rose color of the walls was comforting, though, going well with the cream carpet. It was painfully obvious that my dad had forgotten I wasn’t six anymore and had filled the room with frilly pink-and-white girl stuff I’d shunned for years.
My fingers that were arranging the pillows slowed as I realized my room was almost identical to my room before we had left. Sort of like the kitchen and the living room, all carrying whispers of my mother.
He wasn’t letting go, either.
My mood going introspective, I picked up the camera. It had hurt not seeing Wendy every day. We’d known each other since fifth grade, and she was probably the reason I’d never made it completely into the popular crowd, now that I thought about it. She was more oddball than me, but I’d refused to ditch her when I’d finally been invited in, trying to bring her along with me instead. Wendy had quietly stood by me with her environmentally conscious lunch tote and her political music blaring, knowing I was making a mistake but confident enough in herself to wait for me to realize it. Expecting to find another friend like her amid the Amys and Lens looked really slim. Josh, though, was turning out to be cool.
The shutter clicked, and I dropped my arm and my smile both. I plugged the camera into my laptop. At least that had come with me from my mom’s and it was suitably dark and broody. The background was of my favorite alternative band. Wendy had introduced me to them, but to be honest, I liked the aggressive noise more than the message behind it.
Immediately the picture uploaded, and I opened it to check out the resolution.
My skin still retained its beach tan, which was weird, but I chalked it up to my not having a real body.
The purple tips of my hair were starting to fade, though. It hadn’t grown at all since I died, and I wondered if I was going to look like this forever. My eyes went to my small chest, and I sighed. Not good. So not good. But then I looked closer at the picture, frowning.
“Oh, crap,” I whispered, alarm icing through me. I could see my bed behind me. I mean, I could see through me to my bed. Scared, I looked at my hands. They looked solid to me, but the picture said different.
“Oh, crap…” I stood in front of the mirror, fear making the memory of my heart pound. I looked okay there, too, but when I picked up my camera and looked at myself through the lens…