Page 21 of See You in Your Dreams

Ash shrugs. “A house call probably. She’s gone most afternoons during the week.”

House call?Before I can ask for more info, a tiny streak of black careens out of the kitchen toward us, mewing up a storm. I laugh as I bend over to scratch the top of the kitten’s head. “She seems to be doing well,” I remark.

I glance up at Ash to find him watching us with an odd, almost vulnerable expression. He quickly shutters it. “Yeah. Those pills seem to have done the trick, and she’s not favoring her injured paw as much. The vet thinks we can probably take the bandage off in the next couple days.”

“That’s great!” I furrow my brow. “Hold on, when did you go see Dr. Jenkins? I didn’t notice you stop by, and I’ve been there practically every day after school the last couple weeks.”

Ash shifts on the balls of his feet as his eyes flicker over the various knickknacks on the walls as if searching for guidance. “My aunt and I took her to a vet over in Wilmington on Saturday. Figured it couldn’t hurt to get a second opinion or whatever.”

My eyes narrow at his obvious discomfort.He’d been avoiding me!I’m not sure whether to feel insulted or weirdly flattered to know I’ve been that much on his mind. After all, he’s certainly been on mine.

And he did invite you over here today,I remind myself. A decision, judging by his increasing tension, he seems to be regretting more and more with each passing second.

I turn my attention back to the kitten. Her black fur is still a bit raggedy, a few patches missing that haven’t fully grown in, and her left ear lies folded back on her head—an old injury, according to Dr. Jenkins. But none of that detracts from her adorableness. Her eyes are a startling shade of baby blue, rare for a kitten this old. She fixes me with a plaintive stare, seeming almost desperate for attention.

I glance up accusingly at Ash. “You haven’t been ignoring her, have you?”

He snorts, leaning against a wall perilously close to a mounted shelf full of crystals. “Don’t let her fool you—between me and Aunt Claudette, she gets more than enough attention.”

“Apparently not,” I coo, stroking the cat’s fur. She does a little back flop to expose her belly, and I gently scritch the fine hairs there. “What name did you go with?” When Ash doesn’t answer, I look up to find him wearing a guilty expression. I sigh, sitting back onto the carpet. The cat immediately clambers into my lap, curling into a tight ball and beginning to purr. “Still? You must have at leastthoughtabout it by now.”

“Not really.” He slinks over to a plush armchair and slides into it, eyes fixed on the cat in my lap. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“How about…” My eyes rove the room, landing on that shelf of crystals Ash had been standing beside. “Onyx.”

“Onyx?” he asks doubtfully. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“Hey, it’s better than no name at all! Besides, it seems to fit.” I sweep my hand out to indicate the room. “What’s with all this stuff anyway? Is your aunt some kind of collector?”

Ash scowls, glaring at a lacquered box sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “She works as a psychic. Reading fortunes, communing with dead loved ones—that kind of shit.”

I give the room another appraising look. “You mean she actuallyusesall this stuff?”

“I suppose. She does some of her readings here, but I’ve never sat in on any.”

“Why not?” I ask, continuing to stroke the cat’s—Onyx’s—fur. “If my mom was into something like that, I’d be all over it. It sounds super interesting.”

Abruptly, he’s on his feet, pacing away from me. My hand stills on Onyx’s back, and she cracks an eyelid to give me an annoyed look.

“Because it’s a load of bullshit!” Ash halts before a patterned tapestry on the wall—one of those mind-bendy ones that form an optical illusion. “Just like this image here. Your brain tricks you into believing there’s something there when really, it’s nothing but a clever application of geometry. Alie.”

His hands clench into fists at his sides and his back trembles. The violence of his reaction leaves me stunned. I mean, I’ve met plenty of skeptics before, and it’s not like I exactly believe in spirits or mind-reading either. But this is more than mere disbelief. It’s like the very notion of magic appalls, even frightens him.

“You don’t believe in magic?” I ask him cautiously.

He stills, not responding for a beat. Then, he slowly turns, his face unusually solemn. Something in his expression causes my pulse to quicken while goosebumps prickle my flesh.

“Trust me,” he says softly, “if magic exists, then it’s better off left alone.”

nine

Ash

I’m still sitting inthe living room after Dylan’s departure when Aunt Claudette gets home. She enters the room, humming to herself, then jerks to a halt. “Oh! Spirits above, Ash, you scared the bejeezus out of me. What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

She flicks on a light as I offer a shrug. She eyes me, looking like she wants to say more before setting down her bag and starting toward the kitchen. Banging cabinets echo a few seconds later. “I’m going to make some tea,” she calls. “You want any?”

“I’m good.”