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I t’s hard for me to wake up in the morning. When Jax rolls out of bed, I try to open my eyes, but they burn so much I shut them again. I wake up later with the sun streaming in the windows. Jax lies on the bed next to me, smelling freshly showered, all soap and Axe body spray. A paperback for Lit class is open, tented above his face, as his hazel eyes track back and forth across the page .

I half sit up in bed, leaning on my elbow. “What are you reading ?”

“The Quiet American .”

“Isn’t that a movie ?”

It’s a joke, but Jax’s eyes flicker over to me. “I wouldn’t want to watch it, not until after I’d had the class, anyway .”

I thump him in the arm instead of answering, then rest my head on his chest. Jax sighs and slides his arm under me, folding me into his body, even though he keeps on reading .

“You know, it’s a Sunday morning,” I say. “There’s got to be something more fun that we can do .”

“Not for you, missy. Studying to do.” But he folds the top of his page down and closes the book. “After waffles ?”

“Waffles sound terrific .”

My cell pings, and I reach over to grab it, amazed that it isn’t dead, before realizing that Jax plugged it into his charger for me last night. I pat his chest absently as I unplug it with the other hand. “ Thanks .”

“For what? Oh, no worries. Someone has to look after you.” Unsaid, but heard: god knows you won’t .

It’s from Luke: We need to talk. I’ll pick you up. Where ?

I text him back. I need breakfast. You need breakfast? Meet me in the dorm lobby, I’ll swipe you in .

Swipe ?

For free food. Why do I have a feeling that will get Luke here, even though I don’t know that I like the idea of him and Jax sitting face-to-face for very long. Waffles, omelets, fruit, bacon. Do you eat food? Are you human ?

The answering text comes back quickly: That works. Who’s talking about human, you were too badass last night. At least 25% robot .

I wouldn’t expect a compliment from Luke .

“You’re smiling,” Jax observes .

Well, that’s awkward. Nothing about Luke should make me smile; he’s a pain in the ass. “I invited Luke to breakfast. We have to talk about that poltergeist from last night .”

“Are you sure you want to get mixed up in all that ?”

“I’ve been mixed up in it since the dead started showing up on my doorstep, feeling all chatty,” I tell him .

“This feels different,” he says. “The poltergeist hasn’t bothered you, has it ?”

“It’s bothering other people,” I say. “Killing other people. How could I not get involved when I have the chance to do something ?”

Jax rubs his hand over his face. “You know why you feel that way? It’s because having psychic abilities is something new and different. But it doesn’t actually make you special. Everyone could take other people’s problems personally. We could join the Peace Corps, volunteer. Hell, we could just make eye contact with the homeless, buy them a coffee and fresh socks. But we don’t .”

“You been thinking about that a lot?” I ask him, picking my discarded jeans off the gray carpet. “Because you could join the Peace Corps .”

“I could,” he said. “I might. But we live in a world where that’s like, a heroic self-sacrificing thing to do. A decision you think about. And you don’t seem to be thinking about this one, you’re just doing it .”

I look at his serious face, those hazel eyes intent on mine. He’s set his book down on his chest, and his arm is cocked behind his head. He’s good-looking, but what I can’t resist are his little mannerisms and the shifts in his face. Each one is so well-known and dear to me .

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says. “I’m proud of you. I just think… you need to be purposeful. Because the things you’re doing without deciding anything, are decisions .”

“I literally cannot parse that when I haven’t had coffee yet.” I tell him. He picks up my pillow to throw it at me, and I duck out of the way .

* * *

H alf an hour later, I sit at a table by the windows next to Jax, watching Luke stuff food into his mouth like a starving man. Golden sunlight drenches our table, making me too warm in my long-sleeved t- shirt .

The table in front of Luke is spread with a ham and mushroom omelet, a batch of apple spice pancakes drenched in butter and maple syrup, and a plate filled with fruit salad, a banana, yogurt, and a granola bar. It’s all rapidly disappearing .

“Food here is good,” Luke says, stopping long enough to take a long drink of his black coffee. As he sets his mug down, he adds, “Maybe I should go to college .”

“If only it were useful,” I say .

Jax levels me a look, so I tell him, “Luke’s not convinced college is useful for a medium .”

“Well, it’s always good to have a day job .”

“You can make lots of money as a psychic,” Luke says. “You don’t need college .”

“The only psychic I know is broke .”

“And crazy,” Jax adds, although I have a feeling he likes Nora, deep down .

“That’s by choice. She only connects people with the dead if the dead have something to say, if the dead are still lingering. She’s honest,” Luke says .

“Who are you talking about?” I ask, genuinely confused .

“Nora? Weren’t you talking about Nora ?”

“Yeah. She scams people all the time. She thinks that everyone who believes in ghosts is an idiot.” It’s a sentiment that I find strange coming from a psychic, but whatever .

“No, she doesn’t,” Luke tells me, his tone suggesting I’m an idiot who must have misunderstood Nora. “There are so many psychics who force it, dragging the voice of someone in the Far into our plane, or they just fake it entirely since they can get enough clues from the spirit world without being genuine. Nora doesn’t do that .”

Jax rolls his eyes slightly. “Can ghosts give good stock tips ?”

“They don’t see the future,” Luke says .

“I know,” Jax says flatly. “It was a joke .”

“Sorry. Never know how confused civilians are.” Luke stuffs a long strip of pancake into his mouth .

“You said I shouldn’t worry about how you pay for your hotel room,” I tell him, “But I’m starting to worry you’re malnourished .”

Luke’s eyebrows quirk. He swallows and asks me, “Do I look malnourished ?”

“Well, no.” Not with all that lean muscles, those big shoulders, or the tight ass I accidentally fondled last night trying to get a piece of paper. I need to change the subject. It’s not pleasant blushing with both these boys watching me, and Luke’s lips begins to turn up at the corners. “What did you want to talk to me about ?”

He glances around. “Not here. Back at the hotel. Plus, I want you to meet Maverick .”

“We have a lot of homework to do,” Jax says, which normally would feel sweet and caring but right now just seems like an embarrassingly dorky thing to say in front of Luke .

“The murderous dead trump your lit reading,” Luke tells me .

Jax shakes his head, disapproving. He’s still stuck on the lecture he delivered to me up in his room. And maybe Jax is right. I might be on the right path—the only path—but I had better make sure I think about where I put my feet .

I’m going to keep that thought to myself, though. It’s never good for boys to tell them they were right .

Instead, I ask Luke, “How’d you and Maverick get roped into traveling around dealing with poltergeists ?”

“Chose it,” Luke says shortly. “What else are you going to do with your life ?”

“Anything?” I ask. “I mean, you aren’t even psychic… it’s not like you were called .”

“I was,” Luke says .

“ Called ?”

“Psychic.” He half-shrugs. “I lost the gift. Mostly I can do the work blind. Sometimes I need someone like you. But don’t worry, sister. I doubt there will ever be another haunting on campus. You can go back to your exciting world of accounting and waffles and memorizing Taylor Swift lyrics and Magic the Gathering — ”

“Did you poke around in my room?” That makes me feel violated. My Magic decks are in one of the drawers in my desk .

“I did, yeah, but I wouldn’t have had to,” Luke returns promptly. “Anyway, my point is, Mave and I are not taking you with us. No way, no how .”

“I don’t want to go with you .”

“Good,” he says .

“God, how did that even come up?” I demand. “Why would you think I’d even want to ?”

“Just making sure we’re all on the same page,” Luke says .

“What do you mean, you used to be psychic but you aren’t now?” Jax asks. “Were you healed ?”

Luke snorts. “If you call being blinded being healed , sure .”

I feel a rush of sympathy for Luke. I can just imagine what it would be like to realize that no more ghosts are showing up, to slowly understand that the connection you once had to the afterlife has been lost. That you aren’t special anymore .

I might be a terrible person, but at least I can cling to the idea that I’m special. I can do something to make the world a better place, something that no one else is around to do .

Maybe, if I stay alive long enough, I can soften up Heaven .

“How did it happen?” I asked. “Did it just wear off? Or did something happen to you ?”

“You go around trying to change the world, something’s going to change you,” Luke says, which seems to be exactly what Jax was trying to tell me earlier, in his roundabout way .

The connection between these two statements jars me, as if the universe is trying to tell me something .

Luke takes the last bite of yogurt from his cup, throws the spoon down on the tray, and stands, slipping the banana and granola bar into his pockets. “We’ve gotta get out of here. Work to do, and it’s not like we can talk openly here .”

“Because there are civilians,” I say, mocking him for his usual choice of wording .

“Well. Once I bring you back to our hotel room, there’ll be civilians there , too .”

Jax, his voice irritated, says, “Why don’t I come, too? Maybe I can help .”

Luke half-shrugs, although he looks to me. I stand frozen, not really wanting Jax to come but unable to articulate why. More than anything, I don’t want to hurt his feelings .

“Sure,” Luke says. “Why the hell not. Let’s make it a party .”