“I’m fine,” I said. I paused. “What have you heard?”
And no, I didn’t just mean from school. My mom worked as a medium on the side—she often knew about major life events the moment I did.
“Someone passed over,” she replied. Her voice didn’t sound like some hack mystic—she wasn’t breathy or deep. She sounded professional, like you’d imagine a woman used to leading stock meetings would sound. She was the head of a local bank, so it was a fairly apt comparison. “Tragically. I had nightmares all night.”
“Pretty much,” I replied. “There was a girl in my class, Mandy. She killed herself. No note or anything, but her thesis was supposed to go up today. I’m assuming stress.”
“What have the crows said, dear?”
My skin prickled. I was still getting used to questions like this. I didn’t think I ever fully would.
“They’re . . . around.”
An awkward pause as I felt the gears turning on her end.
“Well, just be careful. And remember, if you need to talk to me, I’m here for you. Always.”
There was a strain to her voice I wasn’t used to. She was holding back. She never held back, unless she thought it would scare me. Silence.
“Mom?”
“Sorry love, just thinking. I’m sorry you had to experience that. You know I wish I could keep you safe.”
“I know.”
“Keep them close,” she said.
“I will,” I replied.
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I looked out the window at the crow sitting on the fir branch. I didn’t need to try to keep them close—they’d be there no matter what.
I met Ethan and Chris on the commons just before noon. The boys stood beside one of the fir trees next to the admissions building—a squat log-cabin-style hut linked to the main academics concourse—and didn’t seem to notice my approach. I was still too wrapped up in what Mom had said to really register that their chatter meant they got along, which meant Ethan would most likely later try to hook Chris and me up with renewed zeal. Reaffirming my no-romance stance was the last thing on my mind, however. What was Mom holding back?
“Hey brosephs,” I called as I neared. They both turned to me and smiled.
“Brosephs?” Chris asked, looking to Ethan.
“Ignore her,” Ethan replied. “Sometimes she says things.”
“And usually you laugh,” I said. “What’s that tell you?” I stepped up to him and wrapped an arm over his shoulder.
“That I’m a good friend,” Ethan replied. “And a martyr for the cause. Keep a careful eye on this one, Chris. She’s wittier than she sounds.” Chris just chuckled.
Ethan hugged my waist as we walked to his car, scratching his light stubble with his other hand. It was easy to fall into this moment, to forget Mandy’s suicide and Mom’s silence and the crows that seemed to be following me everywhere. What have the crows said? So far, nothing. But their presence was enough to set me on edge. Especially since the worst was supposed to be over.
They only appeared when I needed protection. So what was I being protected from? Memory flashed with the image of the crystal Mom sent. There was one way to find out. I just really, really didn’t want to have to take it.
It had taken me so long to close those doors. Opening them again would be disastrous. And that’s why this is your fault, Brad said. Just like his final words to me.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Ethan asked as we neared his car. It hadn’t snowed hard since the last time we left, so blessedly we didn’t have to scrape off the windshields or—even more fun—push the car from a snowbank. “I’m getting hungry and don’t fancy pulling an all-day affair at Nanni’s.”
“Sushi?” I asked, stepping into the backseat so Chris could ride shotgun. Hey, I could be chivalrous too.
“You trust Michigan sushi?” Chris asked.
“I’m sure I can find something that will suit your West Coast sensibilities,” Ethan said. He turned the keys in the ignition and began backing out. “Three-Two-Six it is.”
We drove without conversation for a while, because it’s hard to think of topics when you know you’re just killing time . . . which I suppose was a horrible analogy, given the circumstances. I watched the clouds and the crows roll past, but it wasn’t relaxing. Brad’s voice kept getting louder, and it took all my control to keep it shoved down. I really, really needed a break. Before I cracked. Finally, the music got particularly abysmal and whiny, so I leaned forward and reached between the seats to turn it down.