CHAPTER 20

Several minutes later, Dex and I were seated in a bright red vinyl booth at a place that called itself the Dairee Kween.

“What’s with the misspelling?” I’d asked when we’d pulled up.

“It used to be an actual Dairy Queen, but the corporate office made them close it down after a major rat outbreak in the kitchen. So the owners just reopened it, but changed the spelling to keep from getting sued.”

“That…does not make me want to eat here.”

Dex laughed. “The rat thing was like thirty years ago, according to my Nana. And it’s probably just a rumor anyway.”

He might have been right, but I made a note to skip the burgers. Besides, it’s not like I was ever going to eat here again. Mary Evans’s ghost was put to rest, and Mom and I would be moving on. Which was awesome and great and not at all sad-making.

“This is better than our regular PMS meetings,” Dex said once we had our food. “Those are sadly lacking in fries, I’ve found.” He reached past me for the ketchup. “And desecrating graves is a surprisingly fun bonding activity. I only defile the dead with my closest friends.”

“So we’re friends,” I said hesitantly, swirling a french fry in ketchup. Dex snagged a fry from my plate and popped it into his mouth.

“Yes,” he said, chewing. “And now that I’ve stolen food from you, it’s official. You and me, friends for life.”

“Good,” I said. “I…I like being friends with you.”

“Same.” He made my favorite grin, the one that was surprisingly goofy for such a handsome guy.

Wait a second. I’d known him for a few weeks. How did I have a favorite grin of his?

Our eyes met and held, and it was like there was this…pulse between us. For a second I thought it was just Dex’s magic or power or whatever it was that I was picking up on. But it didn’t feel like that. It felt—

Dex’s phone beeped, and as he looked down at it, the moment was lost. Which, to be honest, was kind of a relief. “My Nana,” he sighed. “Why oh why did I ever teach that woman to text?” As his thumbs moved over the keypad, I pretended to be super-interested in my fries. Really, I was studying him.

He certainly didn’t seem like a guy with anything to hide, but why had he been at Mary’s grave? It couldn’t just be a coincidence that he’d shown up when he did. Had he really followed me, or was there more to it than that? I needed to get closer to Dex.

The thought immediately sent a flutter through me, and I dropped my eyes back to my plate. Not close to him like that. Close in the general Finding Out Information way. “There,” he said, sliding his phone into his bag. “Apparently my curfew has been lengthened by an hour since I’m with you.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I told her I was with a lady who is quite the good influence on me.”

“You need a good influence,” I told him, smiling a little.

Dex sat back in his chair, impressed. “Isolde Brannick. Are you flirting with me?”

I tossed a fry at his head. It bounced off his shoulder, and he winced theatrically, pressing his hand to his clavicle. “Easy, slugger! In your hands, a french fry is a deadly weapon.”

“No, I’m only deadly with dodgeballs,” I said, and he laughed.

“Flirting and joking! Within a few minutes of each other! Is this the side of Isolde that only her friends get to see?”

He was teasing, but it gave me the opening I’d been hoping for. “Yup. And speaking of…” I ventured. “Friends…they can…they can tell each other stuff, right? I just mean…if you had some kind of secret, or something you hadn’t ever told anyone, you could tell me. No matter…no matter what it was.”

Oh, smooth, Izzy. Seriously. Why didn’t I just grab him and yell, “TELL ME WHAT KIND OF MAGICAL POWERS YOU HAVE!” By the end of my little stuttering speech, I was blushing and Dex was frowning.

“A secret?” he asked, puzzled. Then his face suddenly cleared, and he shook his head. “Oh, right. Because of all the purple.”

“Purple?”

“The clothes, I mean,” he said, gesturing to his coat. “I know that I’m fashionable and well-groomed, and yes, I have been known to rock the occasional man-bracelet.”

He lifted his wrist, jangling the bracelet I’d noticed earlier. I could see now that it was plain silver, just a series of links.

“But,” Dex continued, dragging another one of my fries through ketchup, “I also like ladies. And not as shopping buddies, but in the carnal sense.” His tone was light as always, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Not to mention, that spiel was so smooth, he had to have done it before.

I’d only thought I was blushing before. Now my face was probably the same color as the tabletop. “Dex, I wasn’t asking if you were…I didn’t think you…”

“Oh.” He took a drink of his soda. “Then you were just asking me to spill some…nonspecific secret?”

I shook my head. “Forget it.” This was obviously getting us nowhere, so I decided to try a new subject. “Tell me more about your Nana.”

Dex’s face immediately brightened. “Basically, she is the bestest Nana in all the land. Bakes cookies, knits afghans, and lets me hang out past curfew with lovely ladies such as yourself. You should meet her someday. She’d love you.”

Was meeting Nana a serious thing? It kind of felt like it. I really needed to get those magazines. Making a mental note to stop by the drugstore I’d noticed on my way to the graveyard, I nodded. “I’d like that. And your parents, are they also the bestest?”

If Dex’s face had gone all shiny at the mention of his Nana, bringing up his parents had the opposite effect. His shoulders slumped a little, and something flickered in his eyes. “They died when I was little. Just me and my Nana for a while now.” He took a long sip of his Coke, rattling ice in the cup. I had the sense that it was less about being thirsty and more about dropping the subject.

“My dad died when I was little, too,” I heard myself say, and Dex lowered his cup.

This wasn’t part of my cover; this was the real deal, but he had shared something with me, so it felt right to return the favor. “He, uh, was a soldier.” That was literally all I knew about my dad. Men don’t tend to stick around in the Brannick family.

Dex nodded slowly. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

I hadn’t known my dad, so I didn’t miss him the way I missed Finn, but still I replied, “It does.”

A silence fell over the table, and I mentally kicked myself. I was supposed to be getting information out of him, not sharing personal feelings.

Ignoring the tiny voice that said maybe my interest in Dex was less than Brannick-y, I reached out and took his wrist. This time I was prepared for the little buzz that went through me. “You know, I actually like this man-bracelet,” I said, turning his wrist for a better look. I hoped it came off as jokey and kind of flirty, but really I was inspecting it for…well, anything. Maybe there were runes or something carved into the links.

Preening a little, Dexter leaned closer to me. “That’s because you’re a woman of taste. My Nana gave this to me. I have very strict instructions never to take it off.”

I looked up sharply at that. “Seriously? Never? Why?”

For the first time since I’d met him, Dex seemed a little uncomfortable. Taking his hand back, he shrugged. “Superstitious thing, I think. Nana, like you, has a touch of the Irish in her.” He turned his wrist, the silver gleaming in the fluorescent lights. “Supposed to be lucky, I guess.” And then he flashed that grin again. “And clearly it has been lucky, because I was wearing it when I met you.” He grabbed another fry from my plate. “My new best friend.”

In spite of myself, I laughed. “Oh, so now we’re best friends?”

He nodded very seriously. “Two fries I’ve stolen from you. That cements it.”

By the time Dex drove me home, I was thinking less about his bracelet and his Nana and whatever it was I felt when I touched him and more about how nice it was talking and laughing with a boy. Leslie and Everton didn’t seem to do much laughing. Mostly they were either crying or angsting or making overly dramatic declarations of love to one another. That had seemed kind of fun on the show, but I thought maybe this was better.

But those kinds of thoughts were pointless and stupid (and I clearly needed to stop watching Ivy Springs). It’s a job, I reminded myself as Dex opened the passenger door for me. He is a job. You don’t get to think things like how soft his hair looks. Or how nice his eyes are.

Dex walked me as far as the front door, and when he stopped there, my heart pounded in my throat. Oh, God, this was the part where kissing happened. I may never have been on a date, but I’d watched enough TV and read enough books to know that when you eat food with a boy and then he takes you to your door, kissing will occur.

And I was in no way ready for that. Kissing was another one of those things I’d meant to do more research on, just in case. Like, how did you know which way to turn your head? And what about teeth placement? What if there was a spit issue? Should I have taken Torin up on his offer to help me practice? Trying to keep the panic off my face, I turned toward Dex. “Right. So. Good night, then.”

He gave a little bow. “Until tomorrow, Fair Isolde.”

And then he leaned forward.

My heart was in my ears, and my hands were shaking. Okay, I could do this. It was just lips. Just lips pressing together, hopefully without spit. And tongues… tongues… Okay, actually, no. I could not do this.

I was just about to pull back when Dex reached out and…ruffled my hair. “Sleep tight!” he called cheerfully as he jogged down the front steps.

“Um. You too,” I replied, but I was so dazed that I didn’t get that out until he was already in the car, pulling away.

Was he going to ruffle my hair all along? Had I just imagined the way he’d looked at my mouth? Or had he seen the naked panic on my face and changed his mind?

I walked into the house and turned to face the little mirror in the hallway. At least that confirmed that, yup, hair and face, totally the same shade. “Magazines,” I whispered firmly at myself. “Tomorrow.”

Torin’s face suddenly appeared, frowning. “Are you talking to me? And why are you all beet colored?”

Luckily, Mom walked around the corner, and Torin immediately vanished. “That took longer than I’d expected,” she said, drying her hands on a dish towel.

“I ran into that kid. The one I think is Prodigium. We, uh, grabbed some food.”

“And?” Mom asked expectantly.

“And I still don’t know what he is.” Taking a deep breath, I pushed my shoulders back. “So I wanna stay. A little longer. Just until I find out.” After all, there was a chance this whole thing wasn’t really over, no matter all the salt thrown on Mary’s grave. If Dex’s Possible Prodigium Powers had had anything to do with raising her ghost, I needed to know.

Frowning, Mom tossed the towel into the kitchen. “Do you think he’s anything dangerous?”

My knees felt watery and my heart was racing. Yeah, Dex was dangerous, all right, but not in the way Mom meant. I gave her my best Tough Chick Grimace. “No. But if he is, I’ll take care of it.”

She watched me for a long time, so long that I was afraid she was about to say no. Instead, she shrugged. “Okay, then. This one is all yours.”

I told myself that the relief flooding through me had everything to do with Mom’s trusting me, and nothing at all to do with getting to stay in Ideal.

“But you just get one more month,” Mom said. “No more. Anything longer than that can be dangerous for us.”

“Right,” I said, nodding. Mom never liked to work long jobs. The way she saw it, the longer you were in a place, the more you were expected to make connections, friends even. And Brannicks could never afford that. Too many questions.

“Mom,” I said, scuffing my toe against the linoleum. “About earlier—”

The light in the hallway was too dim to see clearly, but I could practically feel Mom frowning. “It’s nothing. Just…just, good night, Mom.”

The words seemed to hang there in the hallway. Then Mom turned away. “One month, Izzy,” she called, heading into the kitchen. “And then we’re going home.”