Page 16 of Soul of Shadow
“Well, those three words clearly made a real impression on him.”
Charlie rolled over, holding her socked feet up in the air. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” More crunching in the background. “And what excites me the most about all of this is that you’re finally doing what I keep telling you to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Putting yourself out there,” said Lou. “Making new friends. Living life. Etcetera.”
“Oh, please. It wasoneconversation.”
“Twoconversations now,” Lou said. “Anyway. Did you hear the latest about Robbie?”
“No,” said Charlie, interest piqued. “What happened?”
“They found more symbols in the woods,” she said. “Similar to the ones on the big white ash. Scattered throughout the trees.”
Oh, Charlie thought.I could have told them that.
“All of them appear to be Norse in nature. That’s what the news said, anyway.” Charlie heard a rustle of fabric as Lou shifted on her end. “I wonder what it all means. My bet is on a serial killer with a Viking fetish.”
“You? Fixated on a serial killer? I never would have guessed.”
“Don’t knock my hobby. You could use one or two of your own.”
“Hobbies?”
Lou scoffed. “No. One or two serial killers, obviously. They’re good for the blood pressure.”
Charlie laughed. “Goodbye, Lou.”
“I got a laugh; I call that a win.” Charlie could hear Lou grinning through the phone. “Good night, Charles. See you tomorrow.”
8
“Here’s what I don’t understand,” said Lou the next morning as she dumped an armful of cling-wrapped brownies onto the bake-sale table.
It was seven a.m. Abigail had signed the three of them up to host the sale—a homecoming-dance fundraiser—a week ago. Naturally, she didn’t ask for permission. Their only warning was a text at nine o’clock the night before:See you bright & early to pick up all the sweets for the bake sale! I have all the houses donating mapped out on my phone.
Lou tried to protest, but in the end, they both caved.
Now Lou went on: “Elias Everhart could have askedanyonefor Advil yesterday.In fact”—she hauled up another armful of brownies and spilled them onto the table—“I bet someone at their lunch table had some.”
“At a table full of teenage boys who forget to even bring theirhomeworkto school?” Abigail picked up the brownies that Lou so carelessly dumped and stacked them into a neat pyramid. “I doubt it.”
“He could have gone to the nurse’s office,” Lou went on. “Orasked a teacher. He could have askedanyone. So.” She pointed at Charlie with a roll of cling wrap. “Why you?”
Charlie kept her eyes on the stickers where she was labeling prices:$1,$3,$5… “I have no idea.”
“Well,Ihave an idea,” said Lou.
Charlie drew a dollar sign with a flourish. “Oh?”
“Yes.” Lou leaned across the table, nearly smooshing a package of cupcakes. “He has the hots for you.”
Her hand spasmed, causing the marker to draw a line straight through the number3. She squeezed the marker in her fist and cleared her throat. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Smirking, Lou pointed at the price tag. “Is it? Because that sticker says otherwise.”
