Rosie walked the three blocks to a bar that was jam packed with twenty-somethings, all with drinks in their hands. She'd never gotten into the bar scene but she could see where it would be fun. She watched through the glass as girls her age laughed and flirted, all of them having animated conversations and enjoying themselves.

When she opened the door, she got blasted with a wave of noise, her skin prickling with awareness of the people around her. Their auras melded together, swirling around her and creating a buzz inside her head that made her temples pound. The can lights were so bright her eyes burned and she wondered how she'd ever be able to carry on a conversation.

"Hey! There you are.” Wendy appeared and pulled her into the bar.

"I grabbed a table. I thought I'd see when you got here. Sorry."

Rosie let herself be pulled to a high-top table, Wendy sitting across from her. "You look great. How do you always look so great?"

"I clean toilets for a living," Rosie replied, narrowing her eyes at Wendy. "I'm sure I don't even come close to great. Are you trying to butter me up?"

Wendy waved the comment away. "Have you ever been here?"

"No," she replied. Wendy had to have known without asking.

"I think now's a great time to just lay the cards out on the table.” Rosie looked to the seat next to her and held in an eye-roll. 

Grandma Murphy. 

The woman was relentless.

A group of women behind them burst out laughing, the noise deafening and joyous. All Rosie felt was seething jealousy. When she turned to look she realized it was a bachelorette party, and although they were all smiling, someone in that group was not happy. Rosie's head swam with spite and hate, an angry red aura cloud surrounding her.

"Rosie?” Wendy asked. "You okay? All of a sudden you don't look so good. You're sweating and pale."

The care and concern coming from Wendy was nearly enough to overpower the group behind her but the red just kept creeping in.

"It's okay," Rosie told her.

The waiter appeared at the table then, a man in a shirt and tie smiling and saying all the right things. A muted grey energy surrounded his body, his sadness creeping up the back of Rosie's neck, like bugs trapped under her skin. Even after he walked away, she noticed a black spot emanating from his midsection.

She knew what it meant. 

He was sick. She wondered if he knew.

"Oh, Rosie, you're bleeding.” Wendy jumped up and moved to her side of the table.

She'd known it was a possibility. It wasn't the first time being in a large crowd affected her and it wouldn't be the last. Quickly grabbing her napkin and pressing it to her nose she waved Wendy away.

"It's okay. I'm alright. Sit down."

"C'mon. It's not okay. We're leaving."

"No, I'm fine. It's just a bloody nose."

Eventually, her boss sat opposite her, but looked like she might jump up and drag her out of the bar at any moment.

"What the hell is going on?" Wendy asked.

"You're the one who invited me here. What's going on with you? What did you want to talk about?"

"Yeah, right," Wendy scowled. "Like I'd ever let it go that easily."

When piqued, Wendy was rabidly determined. Rosie had always intended to keep her home in Jacob's Beach private, but when Wendy found out she'd been walking home at night, she insisted on seeing it to make sure it was a safe walk. She'd even weaseled her way into the camper to take a peek around. Then she'd driven Rosie to a used bike shop and helped her pick out the cutest bike they had.

As Rosie was contemplating telling Wendy what was going on, she felt a shift in the air around her. The sad, sick energy detached itself from her neck and dissipated. The angry red, jealous haze receded and the static buzz in her mind quieted.

She sat up and looked around.

Everything was just as it was before but her personal space wasn't being invaded by auras. She felt...safe.

It was disconcerting.

"Oh, good. Max is here. He can give us a ride to your place. I want you to go home and get some rest."

Wendy started gathering her things while Rosie sat there stunned. She'd never felt such peace inside herself unless she was completely alone. She'd tried, years ago, to manage having other people's feelings and emotions surround her, inside of her, trying to control seeing people and colors that weren't there, that no one else could see. Worse, seeing things that hadn't happened yet that she wasn't able to explain. She'd never gotten the hang of it. Peace was something she'd never achieved on her own.

"There's my generous big sister that promised to buy me a drink.”

Rosie lifted her head to see two men standing at their table and quickly looked away. One was a broad blond, her muted senses barely reading anything but the royal blue color of loyalty that surrounded him. The other was shorter but still tall in his own right and was clearly Wendy's brother, the same shade of brown hair on his head with matching caramel eyes. A shiny emerald green aura emanated from his body.

"We're leaving," Wendy told them. "I need you to bring us out to Rosie's place. I had a few glasses of wine and I can't drive."

"What's the big rush?” the tall one asked.

When Rosie looked to Wendy, she found her boss indicating that she, Rosie, was the big rush.

"I told you, I'm fine.” And, in the last few minutes, it had strangely become true. She was fine. The noise had disappeared.

Wendy's brother bent to get a closer look at her face, smiling as he inspected the napkin pressed to her nose.

"Still bleeding?” he asked.

She didn't think so, but the chances of her moving the napkin were slim to none. She wasn't looking for friends or a boyfriend by any means, but she wasn't into complete humiliation either.

"It's fine," she answered.

He looked at her for a second longer, still smiling.

"Seems okay.” He shrugged and found his way to the seat next to her.

The taller guy sat across from them.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t look good for a few seconds there,” Wendy asked.

"Stop babying her. If she says she's okay, she's okay.”

Rosie could see his hands through the veil of her white hair as he fiddled with a coaster. They were working hands, dirt caked under his fingernails and calluses on the insides of his knuckles. 

"You didn't see her, Max," Wendy argued.

They were talking about her like she wasn't even there. Rosie's embarrassment climbed to new heights.

"Do you need, like, medical help?” Rosie looked up at the tall guy who’d offered his help. His head reared back when she caught him in her sights. "Whoa. That's freaky as hell. Is that real?"

"The blood?” she asked.

He leaned forward, inspecting her closely. "No, the eyes. That's crazy. Are those contacts?"

"Don't mind him, he's a clod," the man standing behind him said on a sigh.

Rosie shifted her eyes to look at him. He was a huge lumberjack of a man, with a big Santa belly and a beard to match. No one paid him any attention, and Rosie knew it was because they couldn't see him.

"I hoped his mother would have taught him some tact, but I think he's got more of his father in him. My fault. Comes from my side of the family. He's a good kid, means well."

Dallas looked over his shoulder following her gaze but when he looked back, she was looking at him again.

"Not contacts. Just my eyes."

"Jesus, Dallas, could you be any more rude?" Wendy slapped him on the arm. "By the way, Rosie, this is Dallas and my brother Max. Guys, this is my friend Rosie."

"I've been wondering when we would finally meet the elusive Rosie," Max laughed. "All we ever hear is Rosie this and Rosie that. I thought for sure Wendy would have made you an honorary Murphy by now."

"He was always a sweet boy," Grandma Murphy cooed. "Happy and kind, just the way children are supposed to be. He's a lot like my Harold was."

Rosie took a deep breath. She needed to shut the spirits out, but she'd never quite mastered it. Actually, she'd never even come close. She'd learned a lot about her seeing spirits in her life, including the most important thing. Never touch them, for a number of reasons that included being unconscious and experiencing death just to name a few.

"She didn't tell us about the eyes," Dallas pointed out with a laugh and then brought a hand up to wave around his head. "Or all the hair."

"I'm going to go clean up in the ladies’ room. Excuse me," Rosie muttered before beating a hasty retreat.

The walk to the bathroom wasn't long, but she found the closer she got, the louder things became in her head. The auras came back gradually, the itching under her skin persistent. The bathroom was full of women, all chatting and laughing. The energy was loud, but not unmanageable. She waited for a turn at the mirror and checked her nose. The bleeding had indeed stopped, and she wiped at the blood staining her upper lip.

"I love that color," the woman next to her told said in the mirror. She was in her mid-twenties and very attractive, her dark blonde hair in a cute bob. "What shade is it?"

Rosie inspected herself in the mirror and looked away. "It's just the color my hair is."

"Seriously. I would kill for that color."

"Yeah," she feigned agreement and walked away, at least satisfied she wasn't covered in blood.

The fact was, her hair used to be brown. The memory of getting her first French braid and staring at herself in the mirror afterwards, her dark hair clean and shiny, fixed to perfection had stayed with her for more years than she'd ever imagined it would. 

Seven years ago, everything had changed. 

Though it had been a gradual change, taking about a month, she’d gone from brown to white, her eyelashes and brows changing too.

It had been just one of many changes that happened in those few months. Being the least stress inducing, she'd never given it much thought. She'd been too busy trying to survive everything else.

She made her way back to the table, that sense of calm settling over her, the silence unsettling.

"Well, she's the best I've got. I can't imagine finding better."

"And here she is."

"Blood free?” Max asked.

Rosie looked at him and blushed, which was the most ridiculous reaction to the question he'd asked.

Playing it off, she answered, "Blood free and completely mortified, thank you all very much."

Dallas laughed, seemingly the type of person who took most things in stride.

"Where are you from, Rosie Knight, Wendy's BFF?"

All three of them watched her, waiting for her answer.

"Originally? Massachusetts."

"What brought you to Florida?"

She shrugged. "No snow?"

"I think I'd like snow," Wendy mused. "I can picture living in a house, looking out at a front yard covered in snow."

"Yeah, then imagine shoveling the walkway and trudging down the sidewalk on glare ice while it's below zero. Trust me, this is better."

"Is your family back there? In Massachusetts?” Dallas continued.

"Yeah.” The lie fell off her tongue easily. She’d found that the second you tell people you don't have any family, they immediately peg you as a charity case. The sympathy rolls off them in waves. She'd taken to just telling people her family lived elsewhere. "Guess they like the cold," she said.

"They must like to come visit here, though."

“We’ll see. I haven’t been here long, so there hasn’t been much time.”

"You heading back home for the holidays?"

She tilted her head and tried to read is aura, to figure out what his intentions were, but found nothing other than idle curiosity.

"What's with the third degree?” She asked with a small smile.

He chuckled. "I already know everything about these two." He waved his hand at Wendy and Max. "And I'm a cop, so I'm curious by nature."

Rosie kept her expression steady, smile firmly fixed in place. She wouldn't let the fact that he was a cop trip her up.

"Ah," she said. "My parents are traveling for the holidays and won't be around," she lied again. "I'll be here."

"Traveling to visit other family?"

"No.” She drew out the word. "Just traveling."

"Okay, okay," Wendy laughed. "That's enough Inspector Gadget. I actually wanted to talk shop with Rosie while we were here but then you two crashed our party."

"You know," Rosie stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I actually have to get back home. So maybe we can catch up tomorrow."

"I hope tomorrow you're going to tell my poor granddaughter what the hell is going on!" Mrs. Murphy scolded from behind Wendy.

"How do you think you're getting home?” Wendy asked with a laugh.

Rosie smiled. She really did like her boss. She might even consider her a friend if she were living a different life. If she was someone that could let people in. What was that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me? Rosie had been fooled too many times. Fooled into trusting people and caring about them only to have them all betray her in the end. Unfortunately, no matter how caring or fun Wendy was, Rosie just didn't have it in her to let anyone else in.

Rosie waved off Wendy's concern. "I'm just gonna walk. It's a nice night and I could use the fresh air."

Even Dallas argued then. "That's crazy. Me or Max can give you a ride."

Max went so far as to stand up as if to join her.

She held up both hands, almost warding them all off.

"Please. No. You guys stay. Have a good time."

"I really don't mind," Max told her quietly, his emerald aura sparkling.

"I do. Mind," she clarified. "I'm okay. I've got it."

Wendy rolled her eyes but accepted that Rosie had made up her mind. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

"Tell Gizmo I said hi."

Rosie waved and said a quick good bye before disappearing in the crowd.

* * *

"Who's Gizmo?” Max asked his sister.

"Her cat," Wendy said.