Griff said.
Brady growled,
I reminded them.
Layla frowned. She sighed, then, “Joss, have you decided what color you’re gonna paint Cleo once she’s finished?”
Right. The normal details of our previously normal lives that had never been normal at all.
Closing my locker and swinging my backpack to hang from one shoulder, I pretended to think about it. “I’m leaning toward the cherry black. I mean, let’s be real here, I’m a cherry black kinda girl. Though I do love the electric green too, so still not a hundred percent decided.”
Car talk, at least, was safe territory. We could go on and on about our Mustangs without much thought, and it shouldn’t arouse suspicion.
I told her—and everyone else too, apparently. That was a tad inconvenient. A private channel, to Griffin especially, would have been helpful. Maybe we’d figure it out as we honed our skills.
I added.
I made myself sound relaxed about the immortality issue, but just the thought of having to again face my death or that of my friends made a rush of panic squeeze my lungs.
Brady said as we joined the throng of students heading toward their first classes. As usual, they tended to part for us, as if they knew there was something special about us.
Layla snarked.
Brady scowled at her.
“So, cherry black, huh?” Griffin asked from where he walked on one side of me. Hunt, now on the other, appeared lost in his thoughts, but that wasn’t all that uncommon.
I smiled, though even I could feel how tight it was. “Yeah. I’m picturing a really shiny finish. She’s gonna look so hot.”
Griffin said, and from behind us, I could hear Layla gagging.
Griffin glanced at me.
Brady sighed loudly enough to reach us from behind.
“Hey,” she protested aloud, all but proving our point.
Hunt said before adding aloud, “If it were me, I’d go with the electric green. That color is so bright you’ll be able to spot Cleo from a mile away. She’ll make an impression, that’s for sure.”
“She will,” I conceded, “but then she’ll just pop that much more for the cops.”
Brady grumbled.
Griffin asked.
“Maybe I should consider some other colors too,” I said for no one but our hidden audience. How fucking inane. “Open it back up. There are so many to choose from.”
“This day feels eternal already,” Layla grumbled. “Please tell me it’s 2:59 and that final bell’s about to ring.”
“Nope, little sis,” Brady said. “Wish I could.”
“This day is gonna go on forever,” Layla complained.
The rest of us grumbled our agreement. How were we going to keep up the ruse so well that none of the expert liars studying our every move would notice, while also figuring out our immortality and now telepathy, whilealsodiscovering a surprise way out of this situation?
