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CHAPTER 27
THE ARRIVAL
"You're up!"
I bolted awake as Savannah sailed across the room and thudded onto my bed.
"Thank God, 'cause Lucas is cooking breakfast and I'm getting kinda worried. When's the last time you tested the fire extinguisher?"
I pulled myself upright. Looked around. Looked at Savannah. Was I dreaming? The last time we'd spoken, she'd stormed off to her room. Now she was rifling through my closet, chattering away as if nothing had happened.
"He says he's making an omelet. But I'm not so sure. Doesn't look like any omelet I've ever seen. Are you getting up today? It's nearly eight-thirty." She whirled around, held my green cashmere sweater up to her chest, and grinned. "Whaddaya think? This winter, maybe?"
"Who else are you going to fit in there with you?"
"You know, you're not supposed to talk like that in front of me. Young women are very susceptible to negative body image perceptions. I read that last month in Seventeen. You're not fat. Not by a long shot. At least you've got boobs." She turned to the mirror, pulled her T-shirt tight against her nearly flat chest, and frowned. "You think maybe I'm a late bloomer? Or is this it?"
Was this the same girl who'd caused a riot on my front lawn? Who'd then vowed that she didn't care who'd been hurt? I'd told Cortez that I needed to understand her. How? One minute she was making strangers attack one another, the next she was a normal thirteen-year-old girl, worried about clothes and breast size.
"--time we go shopping, I want new bras and panties. Stuff like yours. Lace and satin and colors. Real lingerie, not that white cotton stuff. I'm starting high school next year, don't forget. I'll have to change for gym with other girls. Even if I don't have boobs, I can't be looking like a little kid."
"Savannah," Cortez said from the hall. "I asked you not--"
He stopped, seeing me sitting up in bed in my chemise. He quickly stepped back, out of view.
"My apologies. Savannah, I asked you not to bother Paige. She needs her sleep. You were supposed to be doing homework, remember?"
"Oh, please. I'm in danger of being handed over to a psycho half-demon and brainwashed into slavery for supernatural mobsters. You think anyone cares whether I know how to conjugate verbs?"
"Go conjugate, Savannah," I said. "Please."
"And close Paige's door so she can rest."
Savannah sighed and flounced out of my room, swinging the door half-closed behind her. I collapsed back onto my bed and considered staying a while but I knew, if I did, I might never get up again. Time to face the day ... whatever it might bring.
When I walked into the kitchen, Cortez was at the stove, his back to me.
"Savannah has vetoed my omelet, but I assure you it's quite edible. If you prefer, I can probably manage toast."
"The omelet will be fine. Better than fine. Tomorrow, I'll set my alarm. Guests shouldn't need to fend for themselves in the morning."
"You don't need to play hostess for me, Paige. You have quite enough to worry about."
I grabbed two glasses and filled them with orange juice. "Look, about last night. I didn't mean to unload on you."
"You didn't unload. You have justifiable concerns and I think we should discuss them. If you'd like to talk--"
"I'd like to talk about coming up with a plan. Yesterday was crazy and I know I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but I'm not usually that disorganized. After breakfast, I'd like to sit down and discuss a plan of action."
"Excellent idea."
Contrary to what Savannah had implied, the omelet looked good, and tasted just fine. Once we were both sitting down eating, I noticed the ringer light on the phone flashing. Cortez followed my gaze.
"I turned the ringer off to let you sleep," he said. "Shall I--"
"No, leave it off. You were right yesterday. I should just start reviewing call display records. I don't need to hear a constantly ringing phone and I really don't need to hear those messages. Is the machine off?"
He shook his head. "I just turned the volume down. That seemed safest."
