With All My Soul
Page 22
Your legal guardian. Sophie sank her thumbnail through the skin of her orange and began to peel it. Officially, as of eleven this morning. He called to tell me when he finished Influencing the juvenile court judge over brunch. I was supposed to tell you, but you know. She shrugged. I didnt.
Sabines eyes narrowed and her mouth opened, no doubt ready to spew several inventive and highly entertaining threats aimed at Sophie, but before she could say anything, Luca cleared his throat and smiled at Emma. Your hair looks nice today. All smooth and shiny.
Thanks. Ems eyes lit up, and her smile made me want to smile back. It was a very nice change from the previous days lunch.
Sophie glared daggers at her. Keratin treatment and some Frizz-Ease. Its not rocket science.
I glanced at Sabine in silent question, and she nodded. She was amplifying Sophies fears to heighten her envy of...anyone Luca so much as looked at.
Kaylee Cavanaugh? a new voice said, and we all turned to see a sophomore whose name I couldnt remember standing at the end of our table, holding a slip of paper out to me. Are you Kaylee Cavanaugh?
Yeah. As if she didnt know. Everyone in school knew who I was. Everyone within a hundred-mile radius knew who I was. I was the girl stabbed in her own bed by her evil math teacher. Not that most people knew Mr. Beck was actually evil, instead of just your average psychotic pedophile.
They want you in the counselors office.
Crap. Okay. Thanks. I took the slip of paper from hermy official summonsand when the sophomore walked away, I turned back to the rest of the table. I completely forgot my appointment. Turns out that when youre nearly fatally stabbed, then lose your best friend in a freak park-swing accident less than a month later, the school guidance counselor likes to keep tabs on you.
Want me to come? Tod ran his hand up my back, over my shirt. If you keep her busy, I could convert the filing system from alphabetical to most deserving of psychiatric help. He leaned closer, and I knew no one else would hear whatever came out of his mouth next. Ive been meaning to make some special notations in Nashs file anyway. Imagine the level of help he could receive if they knew the root of his recent academic decline was a deep-seated fear of the letter Q.
I laughed. I couldnt help it. And though everyone else at the table looked curious, no one asked what Tod had said. They were finally starting to learn. Thanks, but its hard enough to take grief counseling seriously without you singing Living Dead Girl at the top of your lungs behind the counselors back.
You mock onegrief counselor, and youre branded for life, he mumbled. Er...afterlife. I have a shift at the pizza place this afternoon, but Ill pop in when I get a chance. Tod kissed my cheekthe most we could get away with while only one of us was invisiblethen disappeared. I grabbed my bag, said goodbye to my friends, then headed for the counselors office.
Our school had two counselors, one for the first half of the alphabet and one for the last half. During lunch, the waiting room they shared was nearly empty.
You can go in, the student aide said when the outer door had closed behind me. Shes been waiting for you.
Because I was eighteen minutes late.
I trudged into Ms. Hirschs office, trying to summon an expression appropriate for someone whod just lost her best friend. Nuance was important. My grief had to fall somewhere between sobbing, devastated heap and Emma who? I knew from experience that either of the extremes would only get me sentenced to more counseling.
Hey, Ms. Hirsch. Sorry Im late. I closed the door, then slouched into one of the chairs in front of her desk. But Ms. Hirsch only watched me from across the desk.
I set my bag on the floor and stared at my feet for a second, riding out the silent treatmentwas that supposed to pressure me into talking on my own? But when I looked up, she was still watching me. No, studying me. Like shed never seen me before.
Ms. Hirsch? You okay? Was she in shock? Was I going to have to counsel her?
Youre smaller than I expected, she said. Only she said it with someone elses voice. She said it with a mans voice, deep and smooth, and...rich, somehow. And totally out of place coming from Ms. Hirschs slim, delicately curved feminine form.
She was obviously possessed, presumably by a hellion, but I didnt recognize the voice.
My pulse spiked and chill bumps popped up on my arms, but beneath that an angry flush began to build inside me. I knew I should be scaredI was sitting across my guidance counselors desk from a hellion I couldnt identifybut since my untimely death, Id discovered that there was a limit to my capacity for fear. I could only be threatened, stalked, intimidated, manipulated, possessed, and actually killed so many times before I began to acclimate to the constant state of fear. Before terror lost its punch, like a scary movie watched too many times.
Anger, though... My capacity for anger at the Netherworld and at the host of Nether-creatures that had turned my afterlife into a living hell...that seemed to know no limits.
Much like hellions themselves.
My hands clenched around the arms of the chair. Who the hell are you?
Sabines eyes narrowed and her mouth opened, no doubt ready to spew several inventive and highly entertaining threats aimed at Sophie, but before she could say anything, Luca cleared his throat and smiled at Emma. Your hair looks nice today. All smooth and shiny.
Thanks. Ems eyes lit up, and her smile made me want to smile back. It was a very nice change from the previous days lunch.
Sophie glared daggers at her. Keratin treatment and some Frizz-Ease. Its not rocket science.
I glanced at Sabine in silent question, and she nodded. She was amplifying Sophies fears to heighten her envy of...anyone Luca so much as looked at.
Kaylee Cavanaugh? a new voice said, and we all turned to see a sophomore whose name I couldnt remember standing at the end of our table, holding a slip of paper out to me. Are you Kaylee Cavanaugh?
Yeah. As if she didnt know. Everyone in school knew who I was. Everyone within a hundred-mile radius knew who I was. I was the girl stabbed in her own bed by her evil math teacher. Not that most people knew Mr. Beck was actually evil, instead of just your average psychotic pedophile.
They want you in the counselors office.
Crap. Okay. Thanks. I took the slip of paper from hermy official summonsand when the sophomore walked away, I turned back to the rest of the table. I completely forgot my appointment. Turns out that when youre nearly fatally stabbed, then lose your best friend in a freak park-swing accident less than a month later, the school guidance counselor likes to keep tabs on you.
Want me to come? Tod ran his hand up my back, over my shirt. If you keep her busy, I could convert the filing system from alphabetical to most deserving of psychiatric help. He leaned closer, and I knew no one else would hear whatever came out of his mouth next. Ive been meaning to make some special notations in Nashs file anyway. Imagine the level of help he could receive if they knew the root of his recent academic decline was a deep-seated fear of the letter Q.
I laughed. I couldnt help it. And though everyone else at the table looked curious, no one asked what Tod had said. They were finally starting to learn. Thanks, but its hard enough to take grief counseling seriously without you singing Living Dead Girl at the top of your lungs behind the counselors back.
You mock onegrief counselor, and youre branded for life, he mumbled. Er...afterlife. I have a shift at the pizza place this afternoon, but Ill pop in when I get a chance. Tod kissed my cheekthe most we could get away with while only one of us was invisiblethen disappeared. I grabbed my bag, said goodbye to my friends, then headed for the counselors office.
Our school had two counselors, one for the first half of the alphabet and one for the last half. During lunch, the waiting room they shared was nearly empty.
You can go in, the student aide said when the outer door had closed behind me. Shes been waiting for you.
Because I was eighteen minutes late.
I trudged into Ms. Hirschs office, trying to summon an expression appropriate for someone whod just lost her best friend. Nuance was important. My grief had to fall somewhere between sobbing, devastated heap and Emma who? I knew from experience that either of the extremes would only get me sentenced to more counseling.
Hey, Ms. Hirsch. Sorry Im late. I closed the door, then slouched into one of the chairs in front of her desk. But Ms. Hirsch only watched me from across the desk.
I set my bag on the floor and stared at my feet for a second, riding out the silent treatmentwas that supposed to pressure me into talking on my own? But when I looked up, she was still watching me. No, studying me. Like shed never seen me before.
Ms. Hirsch? You okay? Was she in shock? Was I going to have to counsel her?
Youre smaller than I expected, she said. Only she said it with someone elses voice. She said it with a mans voice, deep and smooth, and...rich, somehow. And totally out of place coming from Ms. Hirschs slim, delicately curved feminine form.
She was obviously possessed, presumably by a hellion, but I didnt recognize the voice.
My pulse spiked and chill bumps popped up on my arms, but beneath that an angry flush began to build inside me. I knew I should be scaredI was sitting across my guidance counselors desk from a hellion I couldnt identifybut since my untimely death, Id discovered that there was a limit to my capacity for fear. I could only be threatened, stalked, intimidated, manipulated, possessed, and actually killed so many times before I began to acclimate to the constant state of fear. Before terror lost its punch, like a scary movie watched too many times.
Anger, though... My capacity for anger at the Netherworld and at the host of Nether-creatures that had turned my afterlife into a living hell...that seemed to know no limits.
Much like hellions themselves.
My hands clenched around the arms of the chair. Who the hell are you?
