Death, Doom and Detention

Grandma insisted on making him breakfast. I had no idea people actually ate breakfast this early. Since I was up already, I headed for the shower. The wind had died down, but the frigid morning had left a sheet of ice on the window. It sparkled in the moonlight, the night still thick and black. I was tired just thinking about it.

All the events of the last few days were like a weight. I was moving through water instead of air. And my appearance left much to be desired. Was my skin actually paler? My eyes darker? My hair brighter? I looked ghostly. Maybe I was turning into a vampire. No, I couldn’t be that lucky. At least then I’d stand a chance of helping in this war we had yet to check off our to-do list. Maybe it could be rescheduled. A war would be really inconvenient at the moment.

First Jared being attacked. Then the picture thing. Then Isaac Johnson’s whittling skills and dire warning, which, better a warning be dire than realized. But still. Then Jared’s make-out session with a girl at least six inches taller than me, and his attacking us. Then the tragic story of my paternal grandparents, only to find out my grandfather had been alive all this time. Or, well, quite possibly.

This had been one messed-up week.

And so far today, I couldn’t quite get enough air in my lungs. My eyes stung like there was no tomorrow. And I was certain my wisdom teeth were growing in. Surely my cheeks weren’t usually that puffy.

“This humidity is not helping my hair,” I said to Brooke as we vied for the mirror.

“It’s funny, my hair looks fantastic.”

I gritted my teeth, but she was right. Her hair, thick and black and straight as an honor student, looked amazing.

She eyed me a long moment. “You look like you caught a tropical disease or something. Are you okay?”

“After the last few days, no.”

“Oh, right. Good point. So what are you going to do about your grandfather?”

“I have an idea, but you aren’t going to like it.”

She pursed her lips. “I love your ideas.” When I cast a doubtful gaze at her, she said, “Well, I love some of your ideas. That one that involved ice cream and coffee was amazing.”

“True. That was one of my better ones. But this one requires deception. And possibly skipping school.”

“Sweet. We can always say you got a vision or something. And we have the sheriff on our side. Oh, my gosh, we can get away with anything now. I love being in this gang.”

I chuckled and looked in the mirror. I thought about taunting Mal some more, maybe poking him with a stick, but I didn’t want to risk his wrath. The way my luck had gone, he’d answer this time. I leaned forward to rate the redness level of my eyes on a scale of one to ten, but they weren’t mine. The eyes looking back at me were blue and full of hatred.

Then I heard a voice. “Ready for round two?”

I jolted back and almost fell as Brooke tried to put the blow dryer away. “Did you see that?” I asked, and she glanced around, suddenly wary.

“What? What did you see?”

“In the mirror.”

Brooke stood to look into it. “I don’t see anything.”

I leaned forward, gazed into the mirror again. Nothing.

“Did you have a vision?” she asked, her voice infused with hope. That girl loved my visions.

“No. I don’t think so.”

I couldn’t get out of my room fast enough. I went down to check on Jared. Still asleep. Still angelic. Which, since he was an angel, made sense. I kissed his cheek and promised him that I’d kiss more than that if he’d wake up. And not try to kill everyone when he did.

Cameron had warmed the truck and was waiting for me to finish my make-out session with an unconscious archangel. He clearly did not understand Jared’s allure. After offering my grandparents a solemn good-bye, Brooke and I hurried to the truck and snuggled together as Cameron drove out of the parking lot. That was about the time Glitch decided to stick his head through the sliding glass window in Cameron’s truck, the one that led to the camper.

“Hi,” he said.

His voice wasn’t particularly loud nor was his tone particularly threatening, but for some reason, the surprise struck a chord. I shrieked like a doomed chick in a horror movie. For, like, a minute. In my frazzled state of mind, I went for the door handle but couldn’t quite get a grip. Luckily, Cameron put the truck back into park to wait out my panic attack. If I were really in a horror movie, I’d be so dead.

Brooke put some distance between us, and Glitch sat there, eyeing me like I’d lost my marbles.

Maybe I had. After taking several deep breaths, I looked back at them. “What?” I said, suddenly defensive, placing a hand over my palpitating heart. “He scared me.”

“Sorry,” Glitch said. “My car won’t start. Cameron said I had to sit back here.”

“Cameron.” Brooke admonished him with her surly tone. “He would have fit up here.”

A sly grin slid over his face.

“I’m fine,” Glitch said, opening his jaw and rubbing his ears. “My eardrums burst all the time.”

“Sorry.” I crossed my arms and pretended to be repentant, perhaps lay off the caffeine. But I’d gotten very little sleep. How would I make it through the day without caffeine?

I thought about it. Contemplated the pros and cons.

Nope. Not possible.

I leaned over to Cameron. “I might need to stop at the Java Loft on the way.”

Brooke brightened and nodded in agreement.