His eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“Don’t worry. You’re going to the school, but you’ve got to do the placement tests before you can actually go to class. You’ll have results within an hour of turning in your work—computers are a wonderful thing—so we’ll know if you even qualify. Shannon took his last week, but you were too sick. I think you’ll pass, hence the shopping today so you’re all ready come Tuesday.”
He nodded, relieved that he still had a chance to attend public school but mad that it wasn’t already a done deal as he’d supposed. When he stepped onto the curb and shut the door behind him, he looked around. The place was packed but there was no sign of Shannon.
Would it have killed him to wait for you? Caleb griped.
As he shopped, his friends telling him what clothes would look good on him, he spotted the dreg a few times. Shannon flipped through the racks and pretended not to notice him.
“Like I wanted to spend time with you,” he muttered.
“Time with who?” someone asked.
He glanced up and saw that an older woman stood beside him. She had too-bright red hair that was sprayed in what looked to be a beehive. She wore a short-sleeved dress that was far too big. Her face, arms and legs seemed to…sparkle, as if she’d bathed in glitter. Weird.
That, he could deal with, though. It was the zaps of electricity seeming to pour off her, causing the fine hairs on his body to rise, that freaked him out. How was she doing that?
“No one,” he said, stepping away to increase the distance between them. He didn’t trust strangers. Even strangers who seemed as well-meaning as this one.
“Oh, posh. Something’s bothering you, and I’d love to hear what it is. I haven’t spoken to anyone in ages. Frankly, at this point I think I’d listen to a discussion about the mating habits of ants.”
Was she serious? “Lady, you’re creeping me out.”
There’s nothing wrong with honesty, Caleb said with a laugh.
A couple walking by glanced over at him as if he were insane. Okay, maybe there was something wrong with honesty.
“I’m sorry you’re creeped out,” the old woman said, and then continued her inane chatter. Not about ants, but about her son, his wife, their kids, and how she hadn’t gotten to tell them goodbye before they’d moved away from her. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, tell them goodbye for me.”
“I don’t even know them.”
“Haven’t you been listening? I’ve been telling you all about them!” And she proceeded to do so again.
After a while, Aden did his best to tune her out.
You’ll need notebooks, binders, pencils and folders, Julian said when the clothing total reached thirty-five dollars and eighty-three cents. With tax. Eve kept track of the money. No one was better with numbers.
“How do you know what I need?” he asked Julian, glancing around to make sure no one was paying him any attention. The old lady didn’t pause in her patter.
A memory, I guess.
He’d often suspected the souls had lived before being paired with him. Every so often, they remembered things that had happened to them, things that couldn’t have happened to them while they were inside Aden’s body.
Aden left the men’s section with four shirts and a pair of pants, and headed toward the supplies. Of course, the woman trailed after him. Still talking. He would have liked a new pair of tennis shoes, but his boots would have to do. Easier to hide weapons that way.
After he gathered everything and paid, his total for the day six cents shy of fifty dollars, he carried his bags outside to wait. Thankfully, the woman didn’t follow him this time.
He had twenty minutes to spare. The sun was high, glaring, and sweat soon beaded over him. He leaned against the side of the building, one lucky half of his body then in the shade. Shannon joined him a few minutes later, stone-faced as always, only one bag in hand.
Aden wanted to ask him what he’d bought but knew he’d get no answer.
“How’d you g-get so much?” Shannon asked without looking at him.
The question surprised him so much that he couldn’t find his voice.
Answer the boy, Eve coaxed.
“I, uh, only bought sale items.”
Shannon nodded stiffly and said no more.
I’m so proud of you. You’re becoming friends already. If she’d had hands, Eve would have been clapping.
Aden didn’t have the heart to correct her.
SUNDAY NIGHT, Aden lay awake till morning, nervous, excited, hoping his mystery girl would return. She never did. With two hours until it was time to leave for school, he got up and showered, brushed his teeth, then dressed in his new clothes. He couldn’t stop smiling—until he spotted himself in the mirror.
Sometime in the last two days, probably while he’d been out catching up on his chores, someone had sneaked inside his room and written on his shirt before folding it and placing it back in its sack where he’d left it. The words Hello, My Name Is Crazy stared back at him.
Aden’s hands fisted on the hem, wrinkling the material. That stupid Ozzie! And he had no doubt Ozzie was the culprit, if not the one to do it then the one to order it done.
Oh, Aden. I’m so sorry, Eve said.
You need to punish him, Caleb said. Maybe wake him up with an introduction to your fists.
That’s one way to settle it, Julian agreed. If you want to miss your test and your first and probably only chance to go to public school.
And your chance to see the girl, Elijah added, because he knew the mention of Mary Ann had calmed Aden down last time.
In and out Aden breathed. A quick search of the other shirts proved that they were equally ruined. His jaw clenched. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. He only wished he believed it.
The kids at Crossroads High will think it’s a joke, Elijah told him. Maybe it will even become the new style.
Whether his friend spoke true or not, he didn’t care. Or rather, he wouldn’t let himself care. Today was too important. On the best of days, he tested poorly, his concentration shot. He needed every thought in his mind focused only on success.
Still wearing the offending shirt, he stomped out of the bunkhouse to the porch. His eyes were narrowed as he scanned the line of trees. There was no sign of the brunette or her friend. That was good, he told himself. He didn’t need the distraction they presented, either. He’d only wonder why they hadn’t approached him again, whether they meant him harm, and if the girl—what was her name? — had liked being with him as much as he’d liked being with her.
If only she stopped the voices like Mary Ann did, she would have been perfect.
He must have stood there, lost in thoughts he couldn’t afford, for his remaining hour, because the next thing he knew, Dan was strolling to the truck with two lunch sacks in hand.
The door behind Aden creaked open, and he turned, spying Shannon. Shannon saw his shirt and gazed guiltily at the ground. Guess that meant he’d been involved. Aden capped his anger again and headed for the truck, meeting Dan at the door.
Dan noticed his shirt and frowned. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
There was a heavy pause. “You sure?”
He nodded.
Dan sighed, unlocked the door. Aden slid inside, scooting to the middle. By the time Dan claimed the driver’s seat and Shannon the passenger’s, he felt completely penned in. Thank God it was only an eight-minute and thirty-three second drive—not that he was keeping track or anything. When they were parked in front of the school, Dan faced them.
“Here’s your lunch,” he said. “Peanut butter and jelly. It’ll have to do for today. Tomorrow, Meg will pack you something better. Now, listen. Mess up, and you’re out.”