96

Tommie waited at the double doors at the school. Glared at me and Buddy, drifted behind, on my heels.

“If I could,” Tommie said, “I’d appear right now and make Justin see me.”

I said nothing.

“Remind him of us together.”

I flapped my hand at her in a go away way.

“He was mine first.”

Buddy walked inside the school, like it wasn’t even raining. Tall and beautiful and anxious and worried and how could he be so cute and I liked him and wanted to be with him and there he was, opening the door for me, then saying, “See ya, Evie,” and leaving me standing there, rain spattered.

He didn’t even look me in the eye.

I watched Buddy take off down the hall. Kelly zoomed out of nowhere, swinging up next to him. He said something to her. I saw his mouth move. That mouth I’d just kissed. They walked away together. He didn’t turn. Didn’t wave.

I gulped.

Were we done? The two of us? Done because of JimDaddy?

Did Tommie have something to do with this?

My stomach clenched and my hair felt damp. I could tell it had gone frizzy. I . . . I wanted to weep.

I wiped at the water on my face. Fanned my T-shirt. My throat felt tight.

Tommie came closer. “You two are late.” She checked her wrist as if she wore a watch.

“Did you make him leave?” I said.

“I wish.”

“Tommie,” I said. “I like him.”

Her face grew tense. “I did too. I loved him.”

“Now he’s with . . .”

“That awful Kelly. She went to school with him from sixth grade on.”

All around us people hurried. They hollered and laughed and kissed and squealed and swore and fought. Bumping into me. Walking through Tommie, who shivered each time it happened.

My heart pounded.

I would ignore her. I had to. I needed my simple life back.

Make her go away for good.

“You can’t make me go away,” she said.

I bit at my lip.

I clipped down the hall to the first restroom I could find, the teachers’ lounge. I would blow-dry my shirt and pull my hair into a braid or something. Knot it. Chop it off.

Why couldn’t I have Aunt Carol’s skill at hair design?

Why did I have to have this Gift?

I kept up my planning. I would hide till school was over (maybe not in the lounge but some other bathroom), then walk home.

The smell of cigarette smoke assaulted me when I stepped in the lounge. This room was too small for smoking, with a couple of sofas and a microwave and way over that way, the restroom door.

“I see you. You see me.”

Tommie was there. Arms folded. Legs crossed at the ankles.

The room was empty. Well, you know. Except . . . I skittered across the floor, quick, so a teacher wouldn’t see me in here, and ran into the bathroom.

Keep calm, Evie. Have a backbone. Resolve not to use the Gift.

“Get going,” I said to my reflection. I locked the door.

Tommie pushed through the wood.

I turned on the hand dryer. The rain splotches weren’t that bad. Tears dripped on my shirt, matching the droplets of rain.

Tommie scooted closer. The hot air rippled through her, but she didn’t seem to notice. This was my first indication Tommie wasn’t real. And the door thing, which I hadn’t seen until this very minute.

“Why are you crying?” she asked. Her voice was tender. She put her hand on my shoulder, and my skin tingled under hers. “Oh! I can touch you.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t say, You know that boy you left behind? I like him more than you know. And now he’s dumped me.

So instead I said, “Go.”

“You’re too late,” Tommie said. Her face was dead serious. No pun intended. “You and I have bonded. We’re inseparable.”

“Paulie said—”

“He’s wrong. I’m here for good.”

The tears dried up and a bit of Messenger steel went down my spine.

“We’ll see about that,” I said.