Page 44 of Death is My BFF

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.”I’m such a piece of crap for leaving him like this.

“You’re not being shot down, I swear. I just don’t feel well. It must be something I ate.”

“Maybe it’s that stomach bug going around.”

I managed a small laugh, recalling his dramatic stomach bug excuse for canceling the rest of his interviewees the day before.

“Thank you, David. I had a lot of fun.”

“So did I.” He smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. I could tell he was hurt by my quick retreat. Without another word, I maneuvered around him and headed home.

VIII

Skittles, my white Ragdoll cat, purred loudly in my ear, and I knew I’d slept in past her breakfast. She was my go-to cuddle buddy, although lately, all I saw when gazing into her big chlorine eyes was the catlike boy with mismatched eyes. After a groggy stretch in bed, I sat up and stared at the stack of covered canvases in the corner of the room. The disturbing memories from the carnival three nights before resurfaced for another nerve-wracking day.

Dragging myself from the covers, I slogged over to the bathroom to toss cold water onto my face. In the mirror above the sink stood a ghost, a frightened girl I couldn’t recognize.

“You’re stronger than this.”

I stormed back into the bedroom, ripped the blanket off the stack of canvases, and launched into cleanup mode. By the time I was done, the garbage was overflowing with frames. Outside, I flung them into a big trash can at the end of our driveway and threw up a middle finger.

Ha.

Despite the container of melatonin and bedtime tea next to my bed, I was starting to accept that sleeping at night in general was no longer a possibility. When I would fall asleep, the abysmal nightmares I’d had for weeks worsened, to the point where I now woke up screaming, drenched in sweat with my limbs twisted in my sheets. Lying absolutely still, I’d retrace the events of the nightmare but could never remember all the contents. Only the shadowy mass that would consume me, trapping me between awake and asleep in a cocoon of smoke. Faded went the dream with a kiss. Wicked lips caressing mine like silken trickery, marking my brain with one unforgettable name.Death.

School that day went by in a blur. To avoid dreaming, I made up for my sleepless night by snoozing away in patchy cycles during my classes.

David had texted me Wednesday, the morning after the carnival, to make sure I was feeling better. I hadn’t texted back, and he’d called and left a voicemail yesterday. I assumed he’d gotten my number from my portfolio. Several times my finger itched to push the Redial button to call him back. I never did.

I was afraid to get close to him. For obvious reasons.

I wanted to tell David the truth about what’d happened at the carnival, but who would believe such an absurd story? Hell, I was having trouble believing it myself. None of what happened in the fun house made any logical sense, so unless I wanted a cool new bedroom with white padded walls, David, Marcy, and even my family all had to be left in the dark.

When I entered my house again, Skittles weaved between my feet, and I carried her like a baby into the kitchen to set her down on the hardwood floor.

“Sorry about that, princess. You just want your meow-meow food, don’t you?” I scooped a cup of food into her bowl, wondering when I’d eaten last. “If I’m going crazy, at least I have you to keep me company. Right?”

Skittles continued to eat her food.

“Good talk.”

Sighing, I chose a stool at the kitchen counter and scrolled through the notifications on my phone. Marcy had texted me several times. She knew something was up the past two days at school, especially when I dismissed any conversation about “the guy who asked me out,” but like I said, she wasn’t one to press, and I didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it’d make me feel better to tell her a tall tale version of why I left David alone at the carnival. At least then, I could tackle a fraction of my current problems.

Dodging Marcy was like dodging a boomerang. She always came right back.

My phone alerted me about a text message. I thought it would be Marcy or my parents, but it was an unknown number. My heart picked up as I read the first line.

I’ve been thinking about you. I had fun on our date. More fun than I’ve had in a while, honestly. I feel like I did something wrong and scared you off. I’m worried about you. At least text me back and let me know you’re okay.

I set down my phone, torn. David complicated things, but I’d had fun on our date too.

I invited Marcy over.

“And youlefthim!” Marcy cried, after I rehashed a drastically edited version of the time I spent with David. We were sitting on stools at the breakfast counter in my kitchen. I excluded anything having to do with

Death and the fun house, of course. “Rewind. You went on awholedatewith David Star. A whole date and you didn’t give me acrumbof information about it all week? No, you let me dangle from a cliffhanger of delicious mystery! You are an evil, evil woman . . . ”

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