***
He was in and out for the rest of the afternoon, coming and going without saying a word. He was obviously “facilitating” something. I grabbed a grumpy Amy from school.
“You said I wouldn’t get in trouble and Mrs. Kenner gave me the hairy eyeball when I walked into class.” Amy pouted while I laughed.
“Sorry, Bug. I’ll do better next time.”
“You shouldn’t talk to them so much.” Her voice got quiet.
“What do you mean?” I turned down the Taylor Swift so I could hear her. Jack was here, listening again.
“Sometimes... Sometimes I’m scared that you’re going to stop talking to living people. And I’m scared of what happened last time.” She turned her face toward me and her eyes burned into me before tracing the scars that ran from my arms to my chest to my face. Amy had this way of putting something in a way that threw me off. Almost like she was much older than nine. Amy was too perceptive for her own good. That scared me.
“Don’t worry so much, Ames. You’ll get wrinkles.” I mussed her hair to break the tension.
“I will not!” Ducking out of the way of my hand, she turned the radio back up. Crisis averted.
For now.