When my mom left, Ada sat on the bed beside me, her long legs folded up until her chin rested on her knees. I felt safer having her there. Maybe she knew that.
“Today total y sucked, right?" wi she said.
“Right,” I said, sinking deeper into the mattress. It was a fucking weird day. First Rebecca appears randomly, stirring al these feelings I wanted to keep at bay. Then the incident in the club, the vomiting, the cramps, fol owed by thinking someone was in my room and nicky nicky nine doors.
“Your friend Ash was nice to drive you home.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“Do you, like, like him like him?”
I smiled. “Like him, like him? No. He’s too young for me.”
I sensed Ada tensing up. I turned my head to look at her.
Her eyes were bright and shiny. Oh dear.
“Is he young enough for me?”
“Hel no. He’s twenty. And you’re stil fifteen.”
“Only for a few more months,” she protested.
“And you have a boyfriend,” I pointed out. She had been going out with this Layton fel ow for the past few months. I’d met him. I wasn’t impressed. Especial y when he cal ed me “Ghoul Girl” and threw up the gangster symbol.
“I don’t know,” she said wistful y. “Sometimes I think I don’t like Layton anymore. He just doesn’t get me, you know. I want a guy who gets me.”
“Oh, I know,” I told her, feeling drowsier by the second.
“He thinks my fashion stuff is stupid. He thinks I should be a cheerleader, but I think cheerleaders are stupid. Cuz they are. And he won’t take no for an answer.”
I eyed her careful y, speaking through a thick, dry mouth.
“What do you mean he won’t take no? Is he pressuring you to have sex?”
Her cheeks flamed and I knew the answer was yes. Ever since I had found condoms in Ada’s drawer, I thought she was already having sex. The fact that she wasn’t brought a wave of relief to my tired soul.
“Ada, the guy is not for you. Not only should he respect your wishes, but he sounds like a douchebag. And believe me, I know douchebags. You need someone who likes you no matter what. Your fashion, your ideas, your blog, your scary mood swings, your secret love of Japanese pop music and your aversion to physical activity. Everything.”
She looked at me with shy eyes. “I just want to be liked for me.”
Her honesty pinched my heart. “I know. Everyone does.”
“Have you ever had that? Had someone who liked you for everything that you are? You know, without shady motives?”
I gave her a sad, drug-induced smile. “No. I haven’t.”
Her face fel . It matched the sinking feeling in my heart.
“But it doesn’t mean I won’t,” I added with some sincerity.
“Even when they find out about your…um, powers?”
It was startling to hear her address my ghost-hunting business as powers, especial y in such a serious tone of voice, but I guess she wasn’t al that wrong.
“Wel . Now I’m thinking twice,” I joked, almost slurring.
Ada opened her mouth to say something and then slowly shut it. She pursed her lips and let out a deep breath through her nose. There was something else on her mind.
“What is it?” I asked lazily. Sleep was just seconds away.
“What if…what if I’m just like you?”
What the hell is that supposed to mean, I thought and fought to say it out loud to her. But my mouth was too weak to form words. My eyes closed and the formidable pul of slumber won.
CHAPTER THREE
Despite the bouts of pain that stil stabbed me from time to time, I managed to show up to work the next afternoon, much to the surprise of Ash and Shay.
“Honey, if you want to go home, go home,” Shay said to me as I put on my apron. “Ash said you were almost dead.”
I rol ed my eyes and looked at Ash. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Perry, you nearly chewed through my seatbelt,” he said, widening his eyes believingly at Shay.
“Your seatbelt is from 1982,” I told him. “It’s old.”
“Hey, I’m from 1982,” Shay cried out. Shay wasn’t old by any means. With her bubbly personality, youthful Pakistani complexion and round face, Shay looked younger than I did. She was also the nicest boss ever, providing you didn’t get on her bad side.
“1982? Nah, you mean 1992,” I said, covering up smoothly.
Shay shook her head and let out a laugh. “OK, Scary Perry, if you say you’re fine, then I believe you. You certainly act fine.”
The fact was I was faking it. The medication made me tired and even though it dul ed the pain, it was stil there. It’s a strange sensation to feel the throbbing but not the pain. It couldn’t be a good thing; my body surely knew that something was amiss in my nether regions. The only good thing I had going for me was that I got a fine sleep thanks to the Nyquil and I didn’t have to ride my motorbike Put-Put to work; my dad had a meeting at a church and said he’d drop me off. Both my parents were OK with me staying home but I could see I made my dad just a little bit proud when I told them I’d manage and that making a living was more important.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t total bul shit.
Anyway, I was soon sucked into the world of lattes and cash machines and overpriced pastries while trying to keep my cramps at bay. The distractions were certainly helping and I was almost grateful for the dude who spil ed the entire container of milk on the fixings counter.
I was crouched down wiping the spil up from the floor with a wet rag when I heard a voice emanate from near the cashier.
“Pardon me, ma’am, would there be a Perry Palomino here?”
For the second time in two days, my heart skipped a beat and then froze.
I kept low and pivoted in time to see Shay behind the counter, pointing my way. In front of her was a very tal , very wel -built man dressed in hiking boots, faded jeans and a green checkered shirt underneath a tan leather jacket.