Wow. I cannot believe that so much of our foreshadowing is going so unnoticed. There's actually a lot of stuff in Chapter 19 that we tried to make OBVIOUS. Teehee. But seriously, maybe no one commented on it in their reviews, but PLEASE tell me you picked up that thing about Dani? And what CeeCee said? If not . . .

HMPH.

And to "anonymous," it's not just a 14 year old writing. It's a 17 year old, too. Hayley. The wonderful Texan. We're tag-teaming. Teehee.

- LOLLY DIES FROM LACK-OF-HAYLEY –

That's why this took so long! SHE COULDN'T COME ON MSN FOR THREE WEEKS. THREE!

I had to write 27 pages in two days! ARGH.

- Lolly goes mad -

- 8 -

By the time I was back at that damned school, it was late-ish. You know. Like, ten. I mean, the visiting hours at the hospital weren't that accommodating, but I didn't care.

When I had left, I'd been hoping against hope that what I imagined Father Dominic wanted to tell me wasn't true.

Now I had returned, it had been confirmed that it – or at least something of that nature – was true.

Father Dominic had cancer.

Ha. It sounds cliché, doesn't it? The priest who everyone thinks is indestructible . . . suddenly gets diagnosed with CANCER.

It was STUPID.

Father D had a primary brain tumor that was cancerous. It had formed in his brain tissue. His tumor was called a glioma. It was in his cerebrum. Doctors had found it when he had an MRI at the hospital for the head bashing he'd received earlier.

I'd been told lots of other things. But I couldn't remember them. I'd hardly been listening to the doctor who'd been talking to me.

I only wanted to know one thing.

'Is he going to die?'

And their answer, let's just say, had not been , 'No, of course not!'

Which left opportunities for a definite maybe.

Or God forbid, a yes.

What really got me wondering, was yeah, this GOD deal. Here was a guy who'd GIVEN HIS LIFE TO SERVE THE GREAT FRIGGING LORD, and HOW does the Guy Upstairs repay him?

'Oiya, Dommy. Here's a brain tumour. ENJOY.'

HOW DID THAT WORK, ANYWAY?

It was WRONG. Religiously WRONG. Father Dom did EVERYTHING for GOD, and he gets CANCER for ALL his TROUBLES.

It's not fair.

Nothing's fair.

And to think . . . he had been so ready not to tell me. What? So when he just DIED, I'd be like, 'But WHY?' and THEN I'd get an explanation?

IT WAS STUPID.

And I was DAMNED FURIOUS. When I croaked, I was going to have some PRETTY HARSH WORDS with this GOD guy. Because frankly, the way he was RUNNING things was NOT VERY NICE.

First he dooms Father Dom's life with a love that cannot last. And oh, THEN, he shoves a TUMOR in his head and makes it MALIGNANT.

Me, CeeCee and Adam had gone. I hadn't told Jack what was wrong. Even though he was old enough to know, I didn't want him to. I'd have to tell Jesse, though . . .

And I hadn't seen Paul since the last time when I'd almost killed him.

I think that had been the best bit of my day.

The near death experience with Mr Slater, I mean.

Because seriously, I was pretty sure that today had been one of the worst ones I'd lived through, for a long time.

Get beaten up. Get degraded. Get mad. Almost get burnt. Get news that your ex-principal, your friend, someone who could be your dad even . . . could be dying.

IT WASN'T FAIR.

IT WAS STUPID.

IT WAS WRONG.

AFTER EVERYTHING, THIS IS WHAT HE GOT.

. . . It just wasn't fair . . .

Me, Cee and Adam had quietly picked up KFC for everyone. We'd eaten ours in the car. But the secret eleven herbs and spices didn't cure our wretchedness. CeeCee spared a thought on whether Dani would actually eat the food we'd bought for her. But then, she barely ate anything. So what did it matter?

It didn't. It was a stupid insignificant detail.

Dani could make her own dinner if she didn't like it. I didn't give a shit about what she ate.

Every bite of chicken made me get colder. And number. It tasted like ash in my mouth. Nothingness. Cardboard. Wasted thirty bucks, you know. It's hard to eat when someone you've grown so fond of can't enjoy the same pleasure of mouth-watering fried chicken with warm biscuits and mashed potatoes.

Oh well, Adam bought it, anyway. I "didn't have my purse on me," apparently.

I just felt so scared. And I felt mad at Father Dom. How could he have NOT TOLD ME?

When I hit the pillows at eleven o'clock that night though, I wasn't feeling anything.

8 -

'Are you all right, Suze?' CeeCee asked me quietly.

I swirled my spoon around my breakfast, watching the gentle ripples of the milk, and the trails that the cereal left. I was still just a little distracted from the night before. So many things had happened, and I really hadn't had the time to think about all of it. They just floated in my mind like my cereal, which was getting soggier by the minute.

'Fine,' I answered tonelessly, staring at my bowl of Frosted Flakes. I tasted a spoonful and frowned. No taste at all.

She made a small noise. It sounded something like sympathy. 'He's going to be fine,' she assured me.

I looked up, and laughed a little. 'Oh yeah, what, did Aunt Pru tell you that one?'

'No, I – '

'You're the last person I'd expect to sugar coat something, you know,' I said. 'I mean . . . you usually don't say stuff just to make me feel better. That's what's great about you. You don't bullshit. So just tell me that he's going to die, and get it over with.'

Yeah, that was usually CeeCee. Honest to the point of brutality sometimes. She was just like the regular Corn Flakes, without the added powdered sugar.

She gave me a hard look. 'Suze,' she muttered, 'He's not going to die.'

I laughed again. 'Yeah,' I said. 'Right.'

Everything had died. Me, my belief in love, my life, my hope, my faith . . .

And now Father Dominic was on heaven's freaking waiting list. Knocking at the Pearly Gates. About to go to the big priests paradise in the sky.

Hell, I didn't even know what happened to people who died. I mean, I knew what happened if they left things a mess here. They'd come back and make my life miserable. But Father Dom…he couldn't do that. I mean, not as much as he already HAD.

I guess I was still mad at him. A night's sleep hadn't changed the fact that he hadn't said a word to me about it. Nothing. No indication that he might just not BE here tomorrow.

Not that his stupid cancerous thingie would be like, sudden. Or at least, it wasn't supposed to.

I dunno. I really don't.

Cee was kind of silent after that. I guess I had expected a lot more no-nonsense-ness from her. But there she was, acting like it was all going to be fine.

She didn't understand. Nothing in my life ever turned out to be fine. And if it did, something, or in some cases someone (cough-PaulSlater-cough) would come and mess it up.

'Listen,' she said, deciding that a topic change was in order, 'Me and Adam are going to go and check the graveyard out the back out. You run by it every day, right? Have you looked into it?'

'Not really,' I shrugged, not feeling all that hungry for my cereal, so I just shoved the bowl away, and then ran my fingers through my hair.

I did run past the graveyard a few times on my morning jog. It was kind of easy to miss, since it was kind of small. In the middle of it was this little wishing well that caught my eye, so I stopped to check it out. Then, I noticed little headstones. I thought to myself that it was totally weird because most normal schools don't have graveyards.

Okay, so Mission Academy had one. But notice how I said NORMAL schools. I must say, with the events going on around here, maybe Fortunashwein really ISN'T like any other school.

'Well, cool. You can come and examine it with us. We're hoping that the Misfortunates were buried there, and we can get check what it says on their gravestones. It won't be anything new, probably. But it will be interesting to see, right?' she said.

'You tell yourself that,' I murmured in reply. I dug my fingers into my pocket, fished out a hair band, and started plaiting my hair so it was out of the way. How gross would it be if I got it in my uneaten cereal or something?

Eww. That was almost as gruesome to imagine as the time that Adam found a fingernail in his corny dog during lunch.

'You coming or not?' she asked crisply, obviously getting irritated with my Father-Dominic-might-DIE thing. Which was REALLY mean of her. I mean, so what if I had a closer relationship with the guy?

He'd been her principal since preschool for God's sake! She should still CARE about whether the thing apparently pressing on his brain was going to kill him or not.

I mean . . . I knew she cared. Just . . . she'd moved onto something else too quickly for my liking.

Or maybe I hadn't moved on fast enough . . . ?

'Whatever,' I said. I traced my finger along the table. It was clean. This whole dining room was weird. It totally reminded me of that Oliver Twist movie, where the high-pitched little orphan boys were singing Food, Glorious Food! and they were dancing around like teeny gay men. Seriously, I could so see hundreds of boys eating their meals at those tables. Slurping soup, laughing, fart jokes, strict teachers onlooking, seniors wolf-whistling at the rare female teachers . . .

Now it was empty.

Of all boys but four, who were destined to spend the rest of eternity within these walls if we didn't give them the required shove off this plane of existence.

And plus, Robin's a dickhead. Those bruises HURT. They'd gone a purply green now. My bruises heal pretty fast. They'd be completely gone in about a week or something, you watch.

Then, the door from the kitchen opened, and Paul Slater walked into the room, with his breakfast.

And suddenly, tension could be cut with a knife going through butter. No – not a knife, a finger.

'Suze,' he said stiffly when he saw me. He looked at CeeCee briefly, and then looked back to me. 'CeeCee, can I talk to Suze alone for a moment?' he asked her.

I shot CeeCee a nervous look. I really didn't want to talk to him then, because he might bring up one of two subjects: 1) how upset I was over Dommykins, or 2) the possibility of more shifter lessons.

It was probably number two. No thanks, I'd rather NOT learn how to breathe fire, thank-you-very-much.

She sniffed, and gave me a sideways look. 'Whatever you want to say to her, you can say in front of me,' she replied loyally.

'Actually,' Paul said flatly, 'I can't. Can you – '

'Save it,' I muttered at him. 'Cee? That sounds like a great idea. Let's get on it right away.'

'Get on what?' Paul said, putting down his bowl, but not sitting down.

'None of your business,' I shot back at him rather calmly.

'I'm giving Suze a manicure,' CeeCee added. Oh, great. Now Paul thinks I'm a Barbie like his bitchy British babe.

Paul's face went kind of dull. 'Right,' he said, 'Suze, just wait a minute – '

'Sorry,' I shrugged, 'No can do. Go burn something, occupy yourself,' was my stupid suggestion. And CeeCee and I left the room, leaving Paul standing there, looking annoyed and . . . well, weird.

Anxious, or something.

8 -

'I just love cemeteries,' Adam assured me and CeeCee. 'So full of death. It's just wonderful to know that below our feet are the decomposing corpses of people who were probably heinously murdered – '

'As lovely as that imagery is,' I told him, 'We can do without McTavish.' He grinned brightly.

I understood his sarcasm perfectly, though. The whole of outside was coated with a gentle but definite fog that seemed to choke the air. The mist hung about fiver meters from the ground, reminding me dimly of the Shadowland.

The little well in the graveyard stood out among the small headstones, looking gray and abandoned with age. I eyed it warily, watching for something to come out of it, but nothing did. I guess I had seen The Ring way too many times. You never know, though. Someone could be decomposing in THERE too.

Charming, Suze.

Even though it was during the day, we were shining our flashlights along the ground. Who knew what could happen?

I didn't think that Gilroy GOT fog like this. But here it was, smothering the living like a mother who just can't take her newborn's crying anymore.

Not that we were dead.

Yet.

Optimism. Totally.

CeeCee shone her flashlight on the headstones. 'Any we recognise?' she asked dully.

'There,' I said, causing her to backtrack to her light landed on a smallish looking one. You know, nothing extravagant. 'Bartholomew Ford.'

'Bart?' CeeCee said.

'The one with yellow, spiky hair advising the viewers of America to eat his shorts?' Adam said in mock-disbelief, 'He's DEAD!'

'Please, no Simpsons references,' CeeCee begged. 'So that's him, right?'

I nodded. 'That's him. The little blond one. Look. Died 1969.' I shivered a little. Even though I was in cemeteries all the time, with some type of shifter business or other, I suddenly felt a little wiggy about being in this one.

Maybe it was just those bruises from Robbie were throbbing extra hard.

'Any more of the Misfortunates?' Adam asked vaguely, kicking a weed that was on the ground. I could barely see it with the fog that choked our feet. It was like we were in some made-for-TV horror movie, and fog just HAPPENED to roll in when we were here.

God. How cheap.

'Maybe the other ones were cremated,' CeeCee suggested uselessly.

'They all were,' Adam grinned. 'Fire!'

I snorted. 'Yeah, I guess.' Even though, it wasn't that funny. It was damned creepy.

'I've been meaning to say something about that,' CeeCee said after a second to me.

'Oh?' I asked. 'Really, what?'

'Well, you said yesterday that you and – '

'OW,' Adam yelled, tripping over another weed on the ground. You should have seen the size of these weeds, though. They were gigantic.

'It tried to kill me!' Adam cried in indigantion, 'The weeds are out to get me. They're situating themselves all over the globe, watching, waiting, till their chance to strike - '

'Adam, not now,' CeeCee said, helping him up. 'This is serious. Four boys died in an attic from fire. There was no indication of how it started, right? And we're not even certain that it was suicide.'

'We're not?' Adam went in surprise.

CeeCee shook her head, her hair looking grey in the fog. 'Suze doesn't think so,' she said. 'Well, I mean, she said that one of the ghosts got mad at her for suggesting it. So we can rule out that they ALL wanted to die.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'Seriously. Why would four smart guys wanna top themselves? It's stupid, and it's such a waste. They're just your average horny assholes. But they had futures, and I don't think that all of them were trying to kill themselves. Maybe it was an accident.'

'Or maybe they pissed off the lunch lady,' Adam sniggered.

'Adam, shut up,' CeeCee snapped. 'Come on, seriously. Okay, so what?'

She'd said sometihng, but I hadn't heard her. My morbid thoughts had possessed me. I was staring at Bart's gravestone. It was old, and grey with age. It was everything that was dead, from the words it proclaimed, to that lay beneath it, charred from fire.

Father Dom could be dying.

He could end up in one of those things . . .

And to think, I'd been so MAD at him.

But it was only because I was so damned terrified of losing him . . .

'Suze?'

I blinked quickly. 'Huh?'

'I said, did any of them seem like, you know, smokers. Back in the 60s, usually a lot of the guys smoked,' CeeCee said. 'Image thing. Before all of the health warnings and stuff.'

I frowned. 'Um . . . I mean, no. No, they don't seem like the ciggie types. They look too smart for that.'

'Were they pyros?'

'What?'

'Pyromaniacs?' Adam elaborated.

I rolled my eyes, and didn't respond.

We walked past Bart's headstone, down the considerably long line. There'd been a fair bit of death here, in the time that this school had been running. However, some of the graves were for teachers, or staff or something. I think. I mean, I don't believe that a "Anne Walters, 1885-1934" would be a student or whatever. Unless he had a sex change.

Which is, you know, possible.

But unlikely.

Like the chance that Father D will survive a brain tu -

'Suze,' CeeCee breathed.

I looked where the beam of her flashlight had landed. Bathed in foggy luminance, three tall, dark headstones stood side by side. They each had crosses on the top, and were higher than ME. Which isn't saying much but shut up.

'Wow,' Adam said slowly. 'SOMEone was a rich bitch.'

'That's them,' I said.

Charles Austin . . . Nathaniel Blake . . . Robin Lawrence.

I shivered a little again, and fell silent for a moment. Seeing the gravestones of the ghosts in that God forsaken school make me realize how dead they really were.

Dead, buried, burned, forgotten.

The fog got increasingly chillier.

'Well, well, well,' Adam said in his best Batman voice. 'We finally meet, Robin.'

CeeCee knelt in front of the headstone, getting her knees all icky. She smoothed her hand over Robin's plaque, so the excess dirt was brushed off. 'Yep,' she said. '1951-1969. They all say it.'

'Does it like say, "Beloved son," or something?' I asked.

'Nup,' she turned to look at me, her violet eyes looking misty, 'Just "Rest in Peace." They all say it.'

'They're not exactly resting, are they?' Adam grinned.

I'll say.

'Look at these,' CeeCee murmured. 'These guys were loaded, Suze. This stuff is solid marble.' She knocked on it gently, and I heard the thick, muffled sounds. 'They lived the lifestyles of the rich and famous, all right.'

'But not Bart,' I muttered.

'Yeah,' Adam said eagerly, thinking himself a modern-day Nancy Drew, 'He got some crummy grey stone. They got that stuff. And his is pissy, anyways.'

Bart was different from the other three, all right.

In almost every way.

Apart from the fact that he was dead, was a guy, and went to the same school . . . he had nothing in common with his fellow Misfortunates.

Curiouser and curiouser.

'Yeah,' CeeCee went on. 'His is granite.' She turned to me. 'Do they . . . you know, treat him differently, Suze?'

'They boss him around,' I said immediately. 'He's the only one who's not a jerk-off.'

'But that's because he's younger, right?' CeeCee replied. 'I mean, he's seventeen. The others were eighteen. So they'd kind of treat him like a kid and stuff, wouldn't they?'

I shrugged. 'They do,' I said. 'And he hates it.'

HA. I remembered when I was seventeen. No one bossed ME around. I owned the world. I had so many possibilities. I had Jesse.

It all went downhill at eighteen, though.

All that heartache . . . courtesy of Paul and Jesse.

Thanks a bunch, guys.

I moved my flashlight away from the headstones, around the graveyard a little.

And I went dead still.

'Uh . . . Cee?' I called with a funny sounding voice, 'I thought you said this graveyard wasn't used anymore.'

She replied weirdly, 'Erm . . . it's not.'

'Then what's THAT?' I demanded.

CeeCee came to my side, brushing against my arm. Her contact sent much needed warmth through me. The fog was getting thicker, and the air seemed intent on asphyxiation, and trapping up all the stray fools who'd ventured outside, hiding the way home from view.

But there was no way you could miss the big, gaping rectangular hole that lay at my feet.

There was a blank, wooden headstone there.

It was a double grave.

'Whoa,' CeeCee said. 'Maybe I got it wrong. I mean . . . Mr Head bought these grounds. He shut this cemetery down about twenty years ago, apparently. This is privately owned grounds. No one can just bury anyone here anymore.'

'Maybe his dad died,' Adam suggested.

'And his mum . . . ' I breathed, moving my torch around the inside of the freshly dug hole.

'What? Car crash,' Adam said airily. 'Maybe Head Sr. was drunk, and hit a pick up. And Dicky-H wanted to be cheap, and not pay for a cemetery that was actually OPEN, and bury them here - '

'And what? He came this MORNING and dug this up?' CeeCee said hotly, starting to get freaked out.

'Nah,' Adam shook his head after a moment.

'Then why is there this big, empty hole?' I snapped at the both of them.

Then, there was a sickening thud and a shout, and Adam fell beside me.

'Adam!' CeeCee squealed, dropping on all fours.

A chilling voice came in answer to my question of the existence of the empty hole.

'Because we want to fill it, Susie. That's why.'

I turned around slowly, and blanched.

Robbie, Charlie and Nathan were standing there, grinning darkly at me.

'Cee,' I said slowly, 'Get out of here, now.'

I stood in front of her defensively, glaring at the three ghosts that stood before me.

'Suze, what's going on?' CeeCee asked in a high voice, 'Adam, honey, come on - '

'Get OUT of here,' I twisted my head and yelled at her.

Her face was whiter than usual, in the realms of grey now.

Nathan laughed at me. He thought this was funny. They all did.

Charlie stepped forward, and whipped his hand through Cee's shoulder, who shuddered violently. 'I give her the chills, Robbie,' he grinned.

'Don't TOUCH her,' I spat at him, shoving him back.

'Would you relax, Susie?' Robbie's eyes glinted at me. He and Nathan stood together, looking like . . . I dunno. They belonged together. Not in a gay way. But you could tell they were in cahoots.

He continued in a lazy tone. 'We're not here for her. Although, this would solve our little stop-the-research-and-get-out-of-our-school problem now, wouldn't it?' he suggested idly.

I flushed, and stood closer to CeeCee. 'Cee, GO!'

She stood up quickly beside me, and clicked her flashlight off. 'Suze, Adam's - '

'Get Paul,' I urged her, 'Go - '

As she went to run, I felt hands push me forward, making my heart lurch horribly. I landed on top of her, on the dirt of the cemetery. 'Ow,' she yelped.

Adam was lying still, on the ground. He had a dribble of blood on his forehead, and his eyes were closed.

And Charles had a large rock in his hand.

'Suze, what's going on?' CeeCee shrilled at me, 'What - '

But Robin dragged me up from the messy tangle of limbs, and breathed in my ear, 'Aaah, she needn't worry, Suze. She's got an eternity to ponder about things, after all.'

'Cee, GET OUT OF HERE!' I screeched AGAIN, my voice breaking horribly.

CeeCee made another break for it, but Charles, who'd dropped the rock, and had retrieved a shovel, one which was probably the tool for DIGGING the stupid HOLE, stood in front of her, making her run into it.

'NO!' I yelled in fury, 'Let her GO.'

But Charles wasn't about to listen to me. With the shovel, he swung it violently at CeeCee, so it hit her on the back. She screamed, and fell to the dirt.

I felt a bubble of hysteria. 'CEECEE!' I freaked out, exploding from Robbie's hold. But with a STUPID ghost stunt, he tripped me up, just by looking at me. I collided with the ground, hard, the earth beneath me solid and damp.

The fog almost shielded the world above from view.

Almost.

CeeCee got on her feet again, but that only made Charles start pushing her back with the shovel. It was a solid matter, and was his only means of touching her. Kind of. He moved her so she was on the very edge of the deep grave -

'DON'T!' I yelled, knowing what was going to happen a second before it did -

But with an ultimate shove, CeeCee fell back beneath my line of vision.

I scrambled up in panic, and launched myself at Robin and Nathan in a blind fury, aiming reckless punches at the pair of them. They were both knocked sideways. Then, I leapt on my stomach in front of the hole, and stuck out my arms as far as they'd go.

'Grab my hand!' I ordered Cee. Her eyes were wide in confusion. And fear. She wasn't a mediator. She was a journalist. She wasn't used to this . . .

Her clammy, dirt covered hands came to my own, but before I could have established any kind of grip, hands enclosed around MY ankles, and dragged me away from her.

I kicked furiously at Charlie's hands. 'Let her OUT!' I begged, looking sideways at Adam's still form.

Call Paul, call Paul, call -

. . . No good. I couldn't project any kind of astral voice. Astral block had set in again, and they sure as hell weren't letting me break through this time.

'Look how scared she is,' Robin laughed at Charles and Nathan, 'Look . . . '

. . . CeeCee was yelling . . .

'She ain't seen nothin' yet,' Charles said gruffly, taking a step back. And with that, he and Nathan dematerialized -

Only to reappear over Adam, haul him up via spectral power as opposed to physical contact, and hold him threateningly over the grave too.

'NO!' my voice was hoarse and horrified. I could imagine how frightening it would have been for CeeCee, from where she was. Her boyfriend, dangling lifelessly, three feet above her, I mean.

Frightening . . .

'Please,' I whipped around to Robbie, 'Don't - '

His face split into a delighted smirk. Like he'd just won prom king, or something. Not a smirk you'd expect to see on a guy who was threatening a girl.

'Oh?' he asked.

I wanted to hit him SO hard he'd be trying to digest his teeth for a decade. But I didn't, or Nathan and Charles'd let go of Adam, and let him fall -

'W-what do you want?' I asked, shivering.

It's one thing to fight for MY life.

Quite another to fight for my friends'.

There was more at stake when it wasn't just me at the disposal.

His smirk just went even wider, as if that was exactly what he'd wanted me to ask. I could still feel him kicking me in the stomach from yesterday . . . pinning me down . . .

'What will you give us?' he answered my question with one of his own.

My face was drained of all colour. I tried to invent a reply, ranging from lunch money to my eternal gratitude. But my throat had closed up.

'She's not willing to make sacrifices for her friends,' Charlie said, giving Adam a menacing shake and stealing a high shriek from CeeCee below, 'How disloyal.'

'What do you WANT?' I asked again at Robbie, my fists balled.

He obtained the air of a businessman. 'Well,' he said, 'Now that's an interesting question.'

I waited.

'Simple, really,' Robin smirked, stepping up to me and sliding a hand down my arm, quite unaware that he'd been beating me lifeless yesterday. 'You get out of our school, Suze.'

I looked over at Adam. He looked dead . . .

I just had to tell them what they wanted to hear . . . just for now . . . I didn't have to mean it . . .

'Done,' I said quickly, turning back to face Robin's devilish face.

Robin, satisfied with that, extended his terms. 'Oh, and provide the three of us with some . . . entertainment,' he added, his eyes leaving mine and sliding down.

I swallowed, hard. 'We'll go, I swear,' I lied.

'And the rest?' he asked me softly, his hands resting on the small of my back and jerking me so I was RIGHT against him.

I sucked in a sharp breath at the collision of my body with his.

'Bite me,' I said under my breath in fury.

'Eeeeeh, wrong answer,' he snapped loudly, and his gaze slid into fire-mode, snapping over to Nathan and Charlie. I turned my head in time to see Adam falling, as if in slow motion, into the double grave.

'Adam!' CeeCee yelled.

Robbie threw me against a headstone, and I hit it with an 'oooghmph,' of pain. Then, he narrowed his eyes at the shovel, which floated two feet in the air, before it began digging at the mound of dirt beside the grave, depositing the contents of each one on top of CeeCee and Adam.

'Robin, DON'T!' I wailed. Nathan simply looked at me, and again, I was slammed against the headstone.

It HURT.

The fog was choking me, now. I wouldn't have been surprised if THEY were causing the fog.

CeeCee was begging for the dirt to stop. Each of her yells pierced my heart like a white-hot skewer.

I swore, and stopped. 'OKAY,' I yelled, 'okay . . . what do you want me to - just - don't hurt them,' I concluded pathetically, my eyes wide.

Nathan beamed at me. 'There we go, wasn't that easy?' he asked pleasantly. Robin blinked, and the shovel dropped from the air, onto the soil.

I gulped down something awful, and said in my strongest voice, 'L-let them go.'

Wow. Voice of a commander, right there.

SOMEONE's not going to be the first woman president. Sniff.

Robin shook his head. 'They're down there till . . . we're done with you,' he crossed his arms, his smirk sending me into entrapping chills that would not cease.

'Let them out first,' I shot back.

Nathan looked smugly apologetic. 'Oh well,' he shrugged. 'We warned you.'

And the shovel was at it again.

'God, all RIGHT!' I snapped in urgency. I ran my hands over my face, and stood up shakily.

WHY did CeeCee and Adam have to be here? I could have done this SO EASILY if they'd just STAYED INSIDE. Sure, there'd been no actual PROTESTS about them, you know, um, coming, but that wasn't the POINT.

I was a shifter. They weren't. They couldn't save themselves.

Only I could.

. . . But it was looking scarier by the second.

Again, the shovel went immobile, and collapsed in the heap of soil. I blinked furiously, my eyes stinging from the fog. Like I said, the astral block was too strong. Paul couldn't hear me. Neither could Jesse.

God, if only they weren't so STRONG!

No. scratch that.

If only I wasn't so damned weak.

Robbie raked his eyes over me, again. WHY did guys do this? What? To check is a girls breasts were still there, or something? LOOK, they weren't exactly GOING ANYWHERE, JEEZ.

'Deal's this,' he said. 'One favour, for each of us.'

'Favour?' I asked, 'Like what? The I-scratch-your-back-you-scratch-mine thing?'

Eww. What if he had back-hair?

. . . Ewwwww . . .

Charlie laughed, and looked sideways at Robbie, as if in recognition or something. What? What did I miss?

'So to speak,' Robbie said slyly. 'Accept?'

'Suze, what's going on?' Cee asked in a burble of panic. 'Adam's - he's not waking up - '

'Okay,' I said. 'Now, let them out - '

'Excuse me,' Nathan interjected sharply, still with his arrogant smugness, 'Not yet. You keep up your end, first.'

'What, NOW?' I demanded. 'What can I do for you NOW?'

It's not as if they had LAUNDRY or anything. GOD.

But the way that the three of them were smirking at me indicated they weren't thinking about those kinds of favours.

Their ones weren't as clean as . . . laundry.

'What do they want?' CeeCee's voice rose up from the hole, 'What's happening?'

'I'm getting you out of there,' I said with something of a stutter, 'It's fine, CeeCee.'

I was disgusted with myself.

FAVOURS?

God, that could mean ANYTHING.

Robbie simpered at me, and I held onto the gravestone beside me for support. Which was, ironically, his own. My stomach was hurting rather badly, from where it had been kicked the previous day, and I didn't want this to be happening, and I cursed the very EXISTENCE of Astral Block. God, who was the anus that invented THAT?

Said anus is going to die.

PAINFULLY.

'Well,' Robin said smoothly, tossing an amused look at Nathan, 'I think you should go first, Nate. And plus,' he added, shoving his hands in his pockets, 'I'll save the best for last; . . . me.'

Oh, fun.

I blinked rather quickly. 'Um,' I said, 'So – er, what – '

Nathan stepped up to me, and I panicked again. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately, huh?

'Whoa, wait a second,' I said, 'What are you doing?'

'Having my turn,' he stated, as if to say, "DUUUUUUUUUUUH, FRED."

I winced a little. 'Um – '

THAT kind of favour?

. . . God. These guys needed to get laid, really bad.

BUT - JUST NOT BY ME.

'No,' I shook my head quickly, after a moment of dead stillness, 'No, I mean – there's limitations and all – '

'I do not recall us discussing limitations,' Robbie informed me dryly.

Hotly, I retorted, 'Well, I'm limiting, you freak!'

This was scary. It was. The three of them stood around me like predators. And I was SO the prey.

Robbie sighed in mockery, and smirked. Instantly, the shovel began throwing ludicrous amounts of dirt into the grave –

'Okay,' I breathed again in defeat, hiding half of my face with my hand again. I didn't know what he wanted me to do.

I mean, I was SO refusing if he asked for a bl –

'I'm a gentleman, Susie,' Nathan smiled at me, coming to stand over me. 'All I want is a kiss.'

The fog drifted right through him. The trees to the left of the graveyard were all reaching up into the sky. A little beyond there laid the lake, where these boys had tried ever so hard to drown me.

Yeah, suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch a gentleman.

I shut my eyes, breathed in, and then out. 'Um, okay,' I muttered, now really nervous.

Come on, Suze. CeeCee and Adam could DIE, and you're having feminine misgivings?

Jesus, you're selfish . . .

Although, when he shoved me back against Robbie's gravestone, pressed his lips to mine and started going a little ungentlmanly, I got pissed.

I pushed him away in disgust, and punched him one on his cheekbone, making him fall backwards in a disarray of arms and legs.

Turd.

Although considering I was trying really hard to keep my friends from being buried alive, that wasn't the smartest thing to do, I don't think.

'Bad move, Susie,' Robbie said darkly. 'Really, really bad move.'

Yeah, I noticed that.

This was even further proven when Charlie dematerialized behind me, in between me and the headstone, and I felt strong, darkly-skinned arms wrap around me with the force of a tourniquet. And then he attacked my neck with his lips, more like a vampire than any ghost I'VE ever encountered.

I cried out, and CeeCee demanded to know what was wrong. I was shaking from the fog and the fear.

I was trying to save the lives of my best friends. But in doing so, I was acting exactly what Paul had accused me of being. It was sickening. I felt like a whore. My GOD.

Charles had made the skin of my neck pull tightly, as if it were a balloon being inflated. It was searing murderously, and my teeth were gritted against the hot, fiery sensations that had claimed my throat. The feeling clashed painfully with the chill from the air, and his arms were growing tighter around me, as if urging me to pop or something.

I had to say something though. He sure knew what he was doing. For a kid, anyway.

Or, you know, an eighteen year old.

But that's not saying much.

PAUL knew how to kiss like that when he was seventeen. You know, make me paralyzed from the complete pleasure and the guilt.

But Charlie . . . he was just hurting me.

Nathan laughed unkindly, holding his face in ire. I guess he was getting insulted that I constantly kept beating him up.

However, I think that Robbie balanced that out for me, no?

Then finally I managed to break the grip that his interlocking fingers had on my waist, and I shoved myself away from him.

My heart was going KA-THUNK-KA-THUNK-KA-FREAKING-THUNK in my chest. I looked back at the three of them in horror.

'Look,' I said, 'This isn't funny, now please, let them out – '

'Actually, I think that it's my turn about now?' Robbie nodded complacently at Nathan, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. His dark eyes snapped over to me, and I felt my recently ka-thunking heart go immobile inside me.

Shit.

He advanced on me, the epitome of confidence, arrogance, satisfaction. For the love of God, I was so channeling some serious homicidal thoughts then. But if I pissed him off . . . Adam and CeeCee were history.

I flinched as his hands came onto both of my arms.

'That wasn't very nice, what you did to poor Nathan,' he scolded me. 'You know what? I think that he really wants your little friends to get buried – '

'No,' I protested, 'You said if I – '

'But you HIT me,' Nathan whined, angry.

'You said no limitations!' I snapped back at him, 'No where was it mentioned that I was forbidden to introduce you to my fist, so there – '

Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul . . . Please hear me, God damn you . . . come on . . . PAUL! PAAAAAAAAUL!

Then, Robbie drove me to the ground, my elbow getting really dirty from the soil beneath me. The fog was now so thick that my furious objection was muffled. CeeCee was yelling to know what was happening, and by the time I was on my back with Robin Lawrence forcing me down by my wrists, I couldn't answer her.

'Kiss me and I'll let them go,' he hissed.

I shook my head at him, feeling almost sorry for him. I mean, I know he was dead, but COME ON. God, is THIS what he had to go through to get a girl? It was pretty sad, you know? I mean, this wasn't exactly getting me in the mood, or anything.

NOT THAT I WANTED TO BE IN THE MOOD.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

'You son of a bitch,' I breathed up at him hatefully.

Nathan and Charles were laughing at me.

God. If these guys had been alive, I'd give them a couple of years before they each turned out to be rapists or something. No, seriously. They were kind of similar to Cole. Guys, who liked to be in control.

Paul was like that, too.

But not to this extent . . . no way . . .

He just sighed, squeezing my wrists tighter. The additional scream I heard from CeeCee indicated that he'd resumed his filling of the grave.

'I think you're being kind of selfish,' he frowned down at me. My chest rose and fell in my quick, shallow breaths. They were slicing at my throat as each dose of foggy, bitter oxygen scythed its way into my lungs. 'Obviously they're in love. Would you want them to spend the rest of eternity together?'

In other words, dead.

This wasn't fair . . . this wasn't . . . a girl shouldn't have to go through this, you know? Blackmailed like this. I mean, this was LOW.

It's only a kiss, Suze.

Just do it.

But I think that part of me knew that no matter what I did, CeeCee and Adam weren't going to get out of here alive . . .

And that part of me was frozen in horror.

I bit down my pride and my integrity, screwed up my face in preparation for the self-disgust that was about to be pumping throughout my entire body, and I lifted my face to his, kissing him hard.

And a second later, I stopped, turned my head, and spat out all that I could of Robin Lawrence.

Ewwwwwww . . .

Okay, not so badly eww. I mean, he wasn't exactly ugly.

But he was a total man-bitch, so I'll ewwwwwwwwwwwww all I like, thank you.

However, that excuse for a kiss didn't really seem to win too many awards with him, if the way he chucked in my face, and basically fell on top of me, kissing me deeply again was any indicator.

I didn't kiss back.

There have been times in the past when I just can't HELP but reciprocate.

Paul being a prime example.

However, this was not one of those times.

Not by ANY means.

I was shaking so badly beneath him now, what with the suffocating fog, and the terror that CeeCee and Adam weren't going to get out of here all perky and fine.

And that was what made me struggle for all I was worth.

I mean it. I was flipping and thrashing like mad all of a sudden, trying to let his heavy form off of me. 'Get OFF,' I shouted at him wrathfully, 'You're DONE – '

He tried to hold me down, laughing the whole time like this was some JOKE to him, but I was REALLY PISSED OFF.

And that's when I saw his fist go up, like Cole's did. It always happened so slowly.

Like Paul's fist, too, when we were fighting that time.

However, unlike Paul's fist, it didn't stop.

It hit me hard on the side of the face, producing an unbelievable explosion of pain behind my ear.

And I went dead still.

I think that was what did it.

I very slowly turned my head back to face him. He had a big, angry grin on his face that slid off when he saw the look on mine.

He obviously was not aware how often that very same action happened to me . . .

'Right,' I said.

And then I went positively psycho. I started yelling in rage; FORCING him off of me and onto HIS back and then I began repeatedly striking him in HIS face to see how HE liked it.

'DON'T – YOU – EVER – DO – THAT – AGAIN!' I screamed shrilly at him in hate and fury and every other emotion that was commonly guided towards Cole Kennedy when he performed his little fist-fest on me.

Nathan and Charles chose then to step in, dragging me off of Robin before I killed him – again. By my wrist, I was slammed most unceremoniously against Nathaniel Blake's towering tombstone, meriting only a half-cry of pain from me. Then, I felt Robbie's cold fingers coming around my neck.

And they weren't exactly getting looser, let's say.

My eyes bulged, and I fought so desperately for a gulp of oxygen, but he wasn't allowing me that. He pressed me harder against the grave.

Why is it that almost ALL of my near death experiences seem to involve lack of air?

WHY?

IT SUCKS.

NO, REALLY, IT DOES.

'You like this, Susie?' he asked coldly, kneeing me in the stomach where he KNEW he'd bruised me the day before.

My eyes went wide from the unbearable pain, but I couldn't scream because he air was being cut off.

He laughed bitterly in my face. 'Yeah, what about this?'

One of his hands released my neck while the other continued constricting. It fell to my shoulder, and squeezed it, HARD.

I almost keeled over . . .

God, this was – acts of a sadist -

It was about when my eyes were ready to flutter closed, when a voice yelled out, 'Don't!'

Paul?

Jesse?

Neither.

As the hands on my throat relaxed in confusion, I fuzzily saw Robin's head turn sharply around.

Bart was standing there, looking determined but nervous.

Robin's expression merged from a sickly amused one to one of pure anger.

'Get the hell out of here, squirt!' he snapped uncouthly at the little blond guy.

Bart was rather white, looking pretty pathetic next to Nathan and Charlie, who so obviously towered over him.

'She – she didn't – I mean,' he mumbled, 'Let her go, Robbie.'

God. Gotta hand it to him. He was scared to death (pun not intended) of Robbie, you could tell.

And here he was, defending little ol' (almost dead) me.

Robin went rigid in anger, but then his fingers slid from my neck all together. 'You're right, Bartie-boy,' he smirked, hauling me up. I could barely stand properly, from the lack of oxygen communicating with my body. I felt like I'd been on a drug, and I was coming down from a high.

The drug being, of course, rage.

Nathan shoved Bart to the side, and laughed when he fell in the pile of soil. Robbie threatened into my hair, 'I think I prefer it this way . . . '

With his ghostly power, he held out one of his arms. A funnel of dirt came spiraling up from the pile of soil beside the freshly dug grave, and with a whirlwind of mud, it was dumped where it had been removed from, silencing the shrill screaming from CeeCee.

'NOOOOOOOOOOO!' I shrieked, throwing myself at the newly deposited dirt, 'CEECEE! ADAM! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR? ARE YOU INSANE? WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM, YOU FAT FREAKAZOID?'

Bart was horrified with Robbie.

Nathan and Charles were both laughing, kind of uncomfortably now. Robbie seemed surprised that he'd actually done that, but was determined to appear 100 percent in support of his decision to oh, I DUNNO, OFF MY FRIENDS?

I began digging with my bare hands at the dirt in terror.

THEY WERE BURIED DOWN THERE.

ALIVE!

. . . Not for long.

'CEECEE!' I screeched into the ground, tunneling madly, 'ADAM!'

GOD DAMN IT!

She would be losing air . . . crushed from the dirt that was trapping her down there with Adam –

The shovel landed beside me, courtesy of Bart. I went to grab it, my heart in my throat and my faith in my fingertips, but FUCKING CHARLES YANKED ME BACK FROM THE GRAVE!

That was when something very strange happened to me . . . a fire/ice feeling claimed my body, my muscles going rock-solid and my blood freezing to a halt, mid-circulation. It felt like a possession . . .

And all I could see was a burning, sizzling red.

And then, the dirt from the ENTIRE GRAVEYARD was ripped ten feet into the air – Adam and CeeCee included. I heard twigs snapping, stone breaking, CeeCee coughing, wind yodeling, my heart pounding, my blood screaming, my mind willing . . .

And it all began falling again.

Except Adam and Cee.

They remained, suspended mid-air, suddenly motionless dead-like.

Gravity worked its magic. Rocks plummeted back to ground level, the soil, COFFINS, headstones, planks of wood, tree roots even –

When the dust had settled, I was still standing, shaking, doing EVERYTHING to keep them in the air -

Then I let go.

They drifted down eight feet, and landed full force for the remaining two.

And I crumbled to my knees, exhausted out of my mind.

The Misforts were gone.

As was the Astral Block.

Finally.

Paul . . . Come outside. Now.

8 -

'You did this?' Paul Slater's eyebrows were raised, high. His eyes drank in what was left of the graveyard.

It was upside down.

Jesse was helping me up tenderly, telling me to put my weight on him. 'Yeah,' I grimaced. Jesse's arm was around my waist, and my knees felt fully, like my upper and lower legs were joined together with bubblegum, or something.

Paul whistled. 'Whoa, Simon. Not bad.'

'Shut up,' I said wearily. I really didn't need him swooning over what had been something almost painful for me. It had been like, traumatic, or something.

CeeCee and Adam were a mess. Adam was finally conscious, and CeeCee looked like she was about to cry. And I so didn't blame her. She was a strong person, but YOU try getting buried under all that earth, and NOT feeling teary.

So when she did start choking on sobs, I felt it.

It must have been horrifying for her . . . God . . .

Paul and CeeCee – who was still crying – were supporting Adam – who was kind of limp – and we gradually made our way back inside. I left like I was going to collapse. I was well aware that what I had done, what I had caused . . . yeah, that was why I felt so oogie. I mean, I'd destroyed a whole area. It was literally rubble, broken coffins, stone, and a whole bunch of other crap.

I even caught sight of a corpse, violently jerking me back to the day when they dug up Jesse . . .

When we were inside, Jesse slid me into a chair, and CeeCee and Adam crumpled into one each, also. Paul snapped at Dani – who was floating around, owning the world – to make some coffee. She whined that she wasn't so housewife, but then caught sight of me, Cee and Adam, and was like, 'Oh.'

Yeah. Oh. A very BIG oh.

CeeCee's face, clothes and hair were stained with mud. She said she just wanted a shower, but Paul wanted to get some coffee into her before she went anywhere. Jesse brought his trusty first aid kit downstairs, and set to work on Adam's forehead without, you know, actually making physical contact with him. It must have been an experience for him. Adam, I mean. To have a sticky-bandage magically being pressured onto his forehead.

I think that I was in shock. I mean, I was talking sort of okay. But only when someone asked me something. I couldn't believe what I'd done, or that Robin had been so LOW as to do THAT.

Try and kill my friends, I mean.

I was well aware than in a few short hours, I'd be in a murderous rage. I'd storm to the library, in a furious search for Robbie's, Charles' and Nathan's pictures. I'd be LIVID. I'd try to exorcise them, and Paul and Jesse would try to stop me but I wouldn't care.

I knew I had power, now.

It was in me, all along. I just hadn't felt anything like it. You know, the fury, the pain, the fear, the horror, the shock . . . the deadly fusion of all of those things that had triggered something so powerful and destructive within me –

I felt like I'd been possessed by something that I couldn't control. Not in the least.

And it scared the hell out of me.

For now, though, I sat in my chair, trembling from my distress, barely able to hold the coffee mug that Dani handed me spitefully. She sneered at me condition, and walked away, the pure personification of snot.

I stared down into my coffee. It was black, and there were little ripples running along the surface of the dark liquid, from my shaking hands. I saw my distorted reflection in it, with my wide eyes and my constantly moving muddy, slightly bloody forehead.

What had I done?

On Paul's order, Dani had to go help Adam with CeeCee to get to the closest shower, so they could clean off. Jesse was told to wait outside the bathroom, should there be any dramas. After that, Dani was to wait with Jack, who was in the library playing Counterstrike on Cee's laptop.

Leaving me to Paul.

Wow. Fun.

When everyone left, it was just me and him in the kitchen. I sipped the coffee. The caffeine dripped hotly down my throat like an elixir, making me feel a little better, and not quite as tired.

He waited silently for a few minutes till I was up to speaking, more. Then, I handed him my half-empty mug, and he emptied the contents in the sink, before coming back, and sitting beside me.

Another moment of silence.

Which he, you know, broke with the inevitable, 'So, what happened, exactly?'

I gave an almighty sigh, just staring at my hands which were playing dead on my lap.

'Long story,' I replied.

'Well,' he got comfortable in his chair, 'McTavish and Cee have a lot of mud on them. I figure they'll take a while.'

Fair point.

So I told him.

Well, you know, almost. An abridged version, I guess, skipping all parts that portrayed my as whorish.

Because he so didn't need the encouragement, you know?

I was rather proud of myself, too, I mean, I didn't even babble it. My pace was achievable by the rest of the human race this time, because I was tired and didn't feel like repeating myself.

When I told him what I did to the cemetery, and what I felt when it happened – you know, the fire/ice thing – he looked all knowing and all recognition-y.

'What?' I paused in my story.

He smiled at my grimly. 'You've finally untapped your powers,' he announced flatly, as if it were something glorious that he couldn't be bothered congratulating me about or something.

'Yay,' I said with a fatigued sarcasm. 'Well, I must have scared the hell out of them; they got out of there pretty fast. After they went, I was finally able to call for you. They took their stupid Astral Block with them,' I added bitterly.

'No they didn't,' Paul said.

I frowned. 'Huh?'

'They didn't take it with them. You broke through it, Suze.'

Wow. I . . . I guess I did.

I released another sigh. I felt awkward around Paul still. I guess yesterday had been pretty intense, and my parting words to him had been playing on his mind a little. I dunno. I guess I was hoping that they had.

Excuse me for being optimistic.

'You're tired,' he informed me.

'No kidding,' I said.

'It's no wonder. That was your first full-blown experience with any kind of power like that,' his eyebrows were raised again. 'Did it just . . . feel like something else was using you; something that you couldn't control?'

I looked at him strangely, seeing that he was perfectly serious. 'Yeah,' I said slowly. 'Exactly like that.' It was freaky how well he'd actually pinpointed it, actually.

The trademark smirk made its return. I wished that he hadn't smirked. I'd been seeing a lot of them today. And now they scared me. His ice eyes had a softer look about them, at the moment. They weren't calling me demeaning names at the moment. His hair was getting a little curlier by the day. He really needed a haircut if he wanted to keep up the oooooh-I'm-a-punk-ass-lawyer-and-I-mean-business look.

'Well, that's was it was like for me, too. I only really started experimenting with the shifting stuff after I met you, actually,' he enlightened me.

I turned my head away from him again, lowering my gaze back to my hands. 'Oh,' I replied.

We were pretty still. Our voices were basically monotone. It was weird. As much as I didn't want to be, I knew that I was one shifter, talking to another. Not so much Susannah Simon, having a conversation with Paul Slater anymore.

I felt like things that were bigger than me were on the move. Like some all-powerful existence had just used me to cause so much demolition.

Well, you know, not SO MUCH, but hey, I think I'd moved on from breaking any VASES here.

And it was scary, okay? I felt scared of myself. What if I had have gone that little bit further? Killed Adam and CeeCee myself?

Because I hadn't any control over myself. I knew that. It was a shapeless, dark and pure influence that had worked through me. Like electricity.

I was bearing the aftermath.

'Hey,' he said after another second, his blue eyes going that little bit sharper, 'You okay?'

I shifted a little so I was sitting up. 'Yeah, fine,' I muttered quietly.

'No you're not,' he demurred. 'You're shaking – ' He went to grab my hand, but I moved it away abruptly, fearful of any more contact with a guy. Robin, Charles and Nathan had scared me so much, so I don't think you can blame me, right?

I turned away from him. 'Uh, I – ' I cast my eyes over to the kitchen table. That was pretty much were we kept all of our, you know, personal stuff. Stuff we wanted to just grab and go if we ever went out. My bag was there.

With my phone.

Which promptly beeped, indicating that I'd gotten a message.

I went to stand up, but Paul beat me to it. My heart started beating again. He started rifling through my bag. I just sat, still. Kind of paralyzed again, I guess.

When he retrieved it, he narrowed his eyes at the screen as he thumbed the digits, till he assumed a look of confusion.

'Friend called Aimee Smith,' he said. I blanched horribly. 'She says . . . '

He trailed off, and then came the expression of dull anger.

' " . . . Where you fuck are you, you bitch." Wow, Suze. Nice friend you got there.'

I just stared at the phone, getting more and more exhausted by the second. My face was completely deadpan. 'Please,' I said softly, 'Just . . .don't – '

'You changed his number to a different name,' he said in a toneless voice.

'Of course I did. What did you expect me to do?'

He tore his eyes away from my phone, and gave me this look that seemed to hurt me more deeply than all of Cole's punches.

It was like, betrayal. Like he was HURT, or something, that I didn't trust him.

WHY THE HELL WAS HE SO SURPRIZED?

I had to look away.

He called me a whore, and a coward, and pathetic, and he wanted me to come running to him with my stupid dumb ass guy troubles? God, as IF.

'Press charges,' he said in a voice that seemed well on the way to being angry.

I continued staring at the phone, answering with the universal response: 'Hmm.'

He shoved the phone back in my back, and turned towards me in blatant annoyance. 'Suze, I'm serious.'

Still expressionless, I just said, 'Paul . . .stay out of it.'

And wonder of wonders . . . he just gave me a filthy look, but dropped the topic.

There is a God.

'Well,' I muttered. 'What are we supposed to do now? With the Misfortunates, I mean.'

He gave me a grin look. 'I can think of something I'd like to do,' he replied darkly.

What? Enslave them too?

'You're not alone,' I sighed.

. . . You'll never be alone . . .

There was another moment of awkward, dead silence. Just breathing. Him standing, me sitting.

'Where did you go last night?' he stabbed at conversation. 'De Silva wouldn't tell me, the bastard.'

'Hospital,' I said shortly. 'Father Dom's got a brain tumor.'

'Oh,' his tone changed. ' . . .Oh.'

Oh indeed.

'Well,' I said, not really wanting to go into all the gory details about how it was icky and cancerous and stuff, 'Shit happens. Even to priests who've never done anything wrong in their entire lives.'

And shit happens to twenty-three year old girls who are getting routinely beaten up by ex boyfriends.

But I didn't say that.

Paul was staring at me with analyzing eyes.

I sighed AGAIN, (God, would I STOP THAT ALREADY?) and raised my gaze to the high ceiling. I ached everywhere, and just to be nice and random . . . all I wanted was my mom.

Who wasn't here.

So stop being a loser, Suze.

This was really awkward, now. I was tempted to ask "What's for dinner?" to say something, but I didn't. He seemed to still be digesting the fact that Father D had a big fat tumor in his noggin.

'What,' he said expectantly.

And I told him.

'I yelled at him,' I blabbed immediately. 'When he told me, I yelled at him. Like it was his fault, or something. Just, he didn't tell me, Paul.'

I ran my hands over my face, and then moved them so they were covering my eyes. I wanted - no, needed to sleep. I wanted Jesse to be holding me again like he held me the other night. I wanted to yell, I wanted to cry, I wanted to run, and I wanted to hide and be SPARED from all of this.

But no.

How could God POSSIBLY be so kind to me, Susannah Simon? That was like, unheard of.

Shock!

When I removed my hands from over my eyes, Paul was sitting beside me again. 'Don't worry about it,' he muttered, dragging a hair through his hair. 'He knows you don't mean it.'

'Whatever,' I said sarcastically.

This was all so frigging screwed up.

More silence.

'Listen,' he said suddenly, 'About what you said yesterday - '

Oh. That.

'Hmm?' I hmm-ed.

I didn't look at him still, which probably annoyed him. But I didn't feel up to it. It was just too . . . I dunno, draining. Life draining.

'Well, just - ' he struggled to arrange his sentence. I believe that's called syntax. 'I was drunk, Suze.'

But you don't take it back, do you.

'Right,' I said.

. . . Right.

Love Lolly (and Hayley, wherever she is, teehee.)