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I shrugged. “If you do, will you help me?”

“Help you do what exactly?” She pushed back from the table, looked at me sideways.

“Help me end it.” I waited for her to say something, but she just pushed the food around on her plate. “Julie, Brandon is relentlessly targeted by just about the entire student body. Doesn't that bug you? He's not a bad guy. You think he deserves to be ostracized like this?”

Julie looked at me like I'd just announced an alien invasion. “Doesn't matter. You can't control it, and you sure can't change it.”

“And that's it? You can't control it, you can't change it, so that means you sit back and just accept it?” I couldn't keep the sneer from my voice. “Julie, I've been watching him since the first day of school. Do you know Brandon won't use the bathrooms at school, no matter how bad he needs to go?”

She remained silent.

“Bathrooms, he told me, are where sixty-five percent of high school crimes take place. He's been pushed. Robbed. Threatened. He's had his stuff destroyed. His head shoved into toilet bowls. He's even been followed home.” I paused, waited for her to express some opinion on the matter that wasn't a simple shrug.

“Yeah, and?”

“And why doesn't this make you mad?”

“You're doing it again.”

I blinked at her for a full minute. “What is it you think I'm doing?”

She stood up, dragged the napkin across her mouth. “Judging me. You can take me home now.” She whirled, stalked out of the restaurant.

“Yes,
ma'am
.” I threw some cash on the table and followed.

In bed that night, I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, replaying the evening. I didn't judge her.

Sure
you
do. You think she should speak up for Brandon like you are. You think she should have reported the fight like you did.

I sighed. Okay. I admit I do think she should have done something.

We
were
having
a
great
time
until
you
pissed
her
off,
Kenny noted.
She's funny.

I shrugged. I guess she was funny when she wasn't hating me. Something she'd said tonight suddenly clicked in my brain. The server's name. Paige. Turner. I rolled over and giggled into my pillow.

What's Not to Like?

By Halloween, the summer weather had turned crisp. Paul and I hung out at his place, watching horror movies and handing out candy. We ate more than we gave away. I'd taken the SATs last week, so it was great to get some time back in my schedule. No more prep classes, no more practice exams on the computer. I thought I did well but tried not to get too pumped about that. Odds were no schools would accept me with my record. My father was spending most evenings hip-deep in the court-required paperwork necessary to start the expungement process for just this reason. If the request gets court approval, I would be legally permitted to answer no on any form that asks if I've ever been convicted of a crime…except for law school. Lawyers had to disclose everything, even if their records were expunged.

No matter how cold it got, I still needed my beach time. Early Saturday morning, I grabbed my iPod and drove the thirty-minute ride to Smith Point, not surprised to see few other cars in the lot. I stuffed buds in my ears, pulled up my hood, and started to run, feet smacking the sand to Metallica's “Frayed Ends of Sanity.”

The irony was not lost on me.

As long as the music was jacked up, I couldn't hear Kenny haunting me to
get
me
Julie
like a Happy Meal from the drive-through, so running with music had become my new favorite pastime. In the time that had passed since our not-really-a-date date, Julie and I had said maybe two or three words to each other.

I ran, my breath coming in pants that pulled the salty air into my lungs, reminding me of Julie. Stone Sour played next. I slowed to a walk, singing quietly along. The sun hanging low over the water was the same color as Julie's hair. I tried looking at the sky instead of the sun. It was the color of her eyes.

Damn it. I stopped and flopped down to the sand, ripped the buds out of my ears. I'd hated her indifference, her icy streak. I couldn't make sense out of her refusal to care about Brandon's problem, but damn it, I liked her anyway.

“Okay. You win,” I said out loud, waiting for Kenny's cheers.

There were none.

“Kenny?”

I whipped around. I checked the corner of my mind where he lurked, pushed open the door. His room was empty, but my gaze lingered on the posters of sports stars I no longer admired. “Kenny, come on, where are you? This isn't funny.”

I was still panting and forced myself to pull in deep breaths, hold them, and slowly exhale. He was…gone. Worry—irrational, I knew—exploded in me. Hadn't I wished—no,
prayed
—for this day since Kenny first appeared? Whatever had tethered him to me had cut him loose. I should have been throwing a party. I was no longer insane.

I breathed in deeply, tried cursing him and saying the things that always pissed him off.

Nothing.

“Woo-hoo!” I did an end zone dance in the sand. This was great. This was incredible. Maybe I could cancel next week's session with Dr. P. I was free! Free to leave Julie alone now.

No.

For a second, I thought Kenny had whispered the word in my mind, but the denial was mine. I shook my head.
No
.

Being friends with Julie was a mistake. Leave her alone.

No.

Okay, this wasn't funny anymore. “Kenny! Enough joking around.”

My head was silent except for the flurry of my own scattered thoughts.

Abruptly, I felt lost. Abandoned. Alone. He was always with me. I'd hear his whispers in my head when I was calm and relaxed, his shouts and taunts when I wasn't. But the first night I was attacked in juvie, he'd left my head and appeared in front of my eyes. When they'd slashed me again and again, I'd seen his face. My face. At the center of the burning and the screaming, I'd heard his voice. My voice.

I'd heard
him
. Kenny. He'd guided me, told me how to protect myself, how to fight back. How to survive. Even then, even as I lay bleeding on the concrete floor, I knew it was crazy, but I kept the secret. I didn't know why. I didn't know if I was protecting Kenny or myself. I only knew that I had to keep the secret.

I was cold. I stood, brushed off the sand, and headed back to my car, the iPod tucked in my pocket. Gulls cried over my head. The wind whipped. The sounds echoed in my hollow head.

I walked without seeing where I was going. I got to my car, climbed in, let my head fall back, and even though eighteen-year-old men didn't cry, I did. I wasn't ready. I just wasn't ready to be alone.

“Okay. Okay. You win. I'll make friends with her.” I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

A hand patted my arm. I looked over and saw Kenny in the passenger seat.

He was smirking.

Thirty minutes of silence later, my car was in front of her house. She was in the leaf-littered street, walking a shaggy black dog. I cut the engine, got out, and watched. She hadn't noticed me, a small comfort because I had no idea what to say that could explain my presence.

Kenny's voice made me jump.
There
she
is.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I rolled my eyes and fell back against the side of my car. What would I say? What the hell was I going to say?

“Hey.”

For the second time in as many minutes, I jumped at the sound of a voice.

“Sorry.” She grinned, pleased with herself, and then angled her head. “What are you doing here?”

“I…I'm not sure. I just—” I shrugged, looked at the ground, hoping to find inspiration in the pavement. No such luck.

You
could
ask
her
about
the
dog, jerk.

Genius. I could have kissed Kenny.

“Who's your friend?” I crouched to his level, held out a hand, let him sniff it.

“This is Hagrid.”

I caught her gaze and grinned. She was wearing purple eyeglasses today. “Hagrid? Really?” I laughed. “When you said you named your dog after them, I thought you meant Harry. But Hagrid is, um, really cute. He kinda looks like Hagrid.” I couldn't resist teasing her.

Her eyes narrowed. “Hagrid was an important character in those stories. What's not to like?”

“Nothing.” I put up my hands, grinning. “It's just…cute.”

“You said that already.” Her lips curled into that mocking smirk, and it pissed me off. I busied myself scratching the dog's head. “He likes you.”

“What's not to like?” I retorted and was rewarded with a little laugh. “So tell me, why Hagrid? I mean, why not go with Harry or Dumbledore or Snape?”

Hagrid tugged on his leash, so Julie began walking. I fell in step beside her. I saw Kenny out of the corner of my eye, walking behind Julie.

“Remember the first book? Harry's this poor little orphan, abused by the people supposed to raise him. He finds out he's a wizard, but what does he really know about any of that world? Nothing until Hagrid shows him the way.”

I nudged her with my shoulder. “You telling me you're an orphan?”

She didn't laugh. Nor did she look at me. “Not exactly. My parents split up when I was a baby so my dad could marry someone else. My mom remarried like six years ago, made herself a new family. I used to see my dad every other weekend, but ever since…well, something happened when I was thirteen and now he doesn't visit anymore.”

“You haven't seen him since you were thirteen?”

She shrugged. “He shows up when Mom needs money.”

Jesus. My mouth hung open, but she wasn't done yet.

“I had a hard time adjusting. I got into a lot of trouble…intentionally. For attention.”

I was intrigued. “What kind of trouble?”

Another laugh. “I smoked. I drank. A lot. I pierced…things.” She indicated her nose, her eyebrow. “I took pills. I stole. I—” She glanced at me and remembered she didn't like me. “Forget it. Let's just say it didn't take me long to figure out that the only thing getting into trouble got me was the trouble.” She smiled, and I swear it was like the sun came out. “So my mom and Carl adopted this little guy. As soon as I saw the black fur, I thought,
Hagrid
. But it fits his personality too. He shows me the way.” She laughed again, and the sound tickled me. “He hated my emo phase. The black hair color must have smelled funny. He kept chewing it, so I cut it off, let it grow out.” She raked a hand through it, fluffing it. “He must like it this way because he doesn't try to chew it anymore.”

I stared at her and shook my head with a laugh. “I can't picture you doing the all-black emo thing.” And then a disturbing thought flitted across my mind. “Did you cut too?”

Her eyes hardened. “Yeah.” She showed me her hand. I saw a row of silvery scars. “I stopped when my razor blades started looking like the answer to all my problems, you know?”

Yeah. Yeah, I did know and couldn't stop the shiver when I thought about my own dark days. I wasn't into the whole emo scene, but I had messed around with blades. Kenny always stopped me. Said I had enough scars.

She stopped while Hagrid did his business, scooped up the mess into a plastic bag, and tied a knot with the ends. She glanced up at me, wrinkled her nose.

“You're a mess.”

“Yeah, I just went for a run.”

“With your car?”

I nodded. “I like to run on the beach.”

“Right. You said that. So which one did you go to today?”

“I hit Smith Point.”

“Hagrid loves the beach. Mind if we come with you next time?”

Say
no, dude. Say you don't mind one bit.

“Sure, if you want.” I shrugged.

“So, how come you're here?” she asked again.

There it was. I drew in a deep breath. Honesty would be good now, so I had to give her that much. As much as I could. “I really have no idea. I was on the beach, running, listening to music. And couldn't get you out of my mind. You remind me of the beach.”

She gasped, a tiny sound that said she was pleased. “You hate me.”

“Funny. I thought you hated me.” She didn't reply, so I continued, “I just couldn't stand that you wouldn't help somebody who needed it.”

She nodded with a frown that made the line between her eyes leap. “It'll always be in our way.”

I frowned. Helping Brandon? I didn't understand.

But Julie did not elaborate. “So, you're not pissed off anymore?”

I laughed once. “No, I guess not.”

Julie looked up at me. “What are you saying then? Are we, like, friends?”

“I hope so.” I grinned wide and was rewarded with a bright full-wattage smile.

“Guess I'll, um, see you in class Monday?”

I nodded. Kenny was grinning ear to ear. My work here was done.