The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

25 - Of Paths and Prophecies

The week passes uneventfully and we mainly stay indoors. Partly because of the massive heat wave in the area, covering everything outside in a thin layer of sweat, but mostly because neither of us have the desire to change out of our pajamas. I've been swimming circles in a sea of self-pity and Hartley's sulking herself. Lord only knows why. It's been exhausting just trying to exist.

By the time Friday rolls around, we're more than ready for our double date. The sun is setting when I finish lacing up my gray Converse. "Where are we going anyway?" I ask, watching her tame her main of crazy curls. "When I talked to Sully, he said he didn't know."

"That's because he doesn't. But you'll find out soon enough." She gives me a mysterious grin and shakes her hair in the mirror. It falls around her shoulders in a cascade of blonde ringlets.

She's wearing an above-the-knee navy sundress covered in pink teacup roses and delicate green leaves. She pairs it with a silky beige cardigan on top. A pair of worn-in Birkenstocks complete the ensemble, her now hot pink-painted toenails peeking above the leather straps.

I'm dressed for the weather: white short shorts—the ones my father hates because they show a lot of leg—and a flowy gray tank that matches my eyes. My long brown hair is carefully arranged in a messy bun and I take the extra effort to apply makeup, assuming the humidity doesn't wash it away. I smile at myself in the mirror, admiring the new angles of my cheeks.

"You look great." Hartley's gaze drops to the floor before flicking back to mine. She's toying with her hair, wrapping and unwrapping a thick chunk around two fingers. "You're not going home, are you?" she asks abruptly. She's tiptoed around the subject all week.

"Why would I go home?"

She folds her hands in her lap. "After what your mom said, I'd understand if you wanted to."

Right now, Ohio's not where I want to be. As long as Mom and Henry are okay, I'm not going back until I have to. "I want to stay here."

"Really?" Hartley turns from the mirror and faces me, her expression one of relief. "Because I don't want you to leave."

"Good," I say, extending my pinky for a hug. "'Cause you're not getting rid of me that easily."

She wraps her finger around mine and brings me in for a real hug. I can tell there's something more she wants to say—like this whole other thing balancing on the tip of her tongue—but instead, she says nothing.

Because Sully's working late, we eat dinner with Penny and Jolie—vegan fried "chicken" made by my best friend. I assist with some of the simpler instructions, like handing over the cayenne pepper or garlic powder when she asks. The "chicken" is texturized vegetable protein wrapped in something called rice paper. It's bathed in a spicy batter and fried until each piece is a crispy golden brown.

An aromatherapy diffuser is positioned in the center of the table and is blowing a steady cloud of grapefruit oil, which according to Hartley is meant to alleviate my mental fatigue and stress. She serves the main course with garlic green beans and mashed potatoes covered in a thick mushroom sauce. I have to admit, it's sort of delicious. Hartley picks at hers but I inhale mine and ask for seconds, a first since my arrival.

When the kitchen is clean, the moon is hanging in the black sky. There's a knock on the front door. The moment Sully comes into view my heart stalls in my chest. Sun-kissed golden hair curls around his ears in that just-hopped-out-of-the-shower sort of way, and flanks the most magnificent brown eyes I've ever seen in my life, which are currently staring at me from behind wire-rimmed glasses.

"Good evening, Sully," someone says from behind.

Sully's gaze moves over my shoulder and he gives a small wave. "Hi, Penny. Jolie. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Penny says. "I know Nick's driving tonight, but I want the girls home by 1:00. Is that clear?" Her words are harsh but don't sound that way. There's a smile in her voice.

"Absolutely. One o'clock." He bats his eyes innocently. "I'll even make sure they arrive in one piece."

Penny laughs. "I expect nothing less."

"You guys have fun and be safe," Jolie adds. "And don't forget to wear your seatbelts."

"Speaking of which, we're gonna go outside. Nick'll be here any minute and you know he hates to wait." Hartley's arm cinches mine as she pushes Sully toward the door, dragging me behind her. Before I can say goodbye, the night air hits me with a vengeance. To my relief, it's milder than it's been in weeks. Like, almost normal.

There's no time for small talk. A souped-up Chevy SomethingOrOther pulls onto the street, the same one from the restaurant parking lot. Only this time the windshield is in one solid piece. Music thumps from the open windows and the lamps overhead reflect shards of light off the glossy black paint. The exhaust is loud—the kind of loud that's intentional, not broken. The porch vibrates under my feet. A quick glance at Sully tells me he's not impressed either.

"I don't know why I can't drive," he mumbles. "At least we'd be able to hear each other."

Hartley's response is curt. "Because, Nick wants to." Her eyes remained fixed on the car as it pulls up to the curb. "Let's go."

Sully and I follow behind her as she hurtles the stairs as if she's timing us to see who can get to the street first. She swings open the passenger door and plops into the seat, lunging over the center console to kiss Nick full on the lips. Seriously, if this is going to be another night of watching them make out, I'm gonna be sick. There's nothing more uncomfortable than being an audience for your best friend as she sucks face with her ridiculously thick-necked boyfriend.

When we reach the curb, Sully opens the back door and I slide inside, our eyes meeting as I pass by. The inside of Nick's car smells like leather and something else—probably the twenty or so pine trees hanging in a clump from his rear view mirror. A legion of Mardi Gras beads are a colorful backdrop to the scented black forest.

The sound of tongues slurping against each other emits from the front half of the car, drowning out both the music and cheesetastic engine. I fiddle with my seat belt and pretend not to notice. But the one thing I can't ignore is Sully sitting next to me. His legs are too long to fit comfortably behind the passenger seat and my entire body shivers as his knee grazes mine.

He gives me a lazy half-smile. "Sorry. I can try to scoot over more if you'd like."

"No, you're good." I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding. I adjust my position so I'm sitting sideways, facing him more than the front. "Do you know what we're doing yet? Hartley wouldn't tell me."

The music clicks off without warning. "Impatient, aren't we?" Hartley and Nick have miraculously separated and now she's smirking in my direction. There's an unlit cigarette dangling from the unsmiling corner of her mouth. She lifts a purple, gemstone-covered lighter to the tip and takes a sizzling drag. "I have a surprise for you." Her mouth forms a perfect O and she exhales a ring of smoke.

Nick reaches over and plucks the roll of tobacco from her lips. "Dammit, Hart. How many times have I told you there's no smoking in my car?" He flicks it out the window and pulls away from the curb.

"You didn't have to throw it away. They're not free, you know." Even though they were. Hartley gives him a scowl and shoves the lighter into her pocket. "As I was saying ..." She holds a hand in front of us. It's curled into a fist. When she opens it, there's a small blue vial lying across her palm.

Sully leans closer to get a better look. His eyes frown behind the silver-wired frames. "What is it?" he asks.

I already know.

Hartley's gaze moves from him and then back to me, a satisfied expression crossing her face. "We're going to open up our third eye. It's time to hunt for ghosts!"