secret-keeping thing.”
I sink down on the bed and ball the clothes up on my lap. “There were these guys there, digging up a grave.”
Her forehead scrunches and she sits down beside me. “Ew, like grave robbers?”
“I’m not sure what they were doing, but it was kind of creepy.”
“Did they take anything from the grave?”
“I have no idea. I was too busy running from the cops…” It dawns on me. “Shit. I think one of the grave robber guys might have my notebook.”
“The one you’re always writing your deepest darkest secrets in?” she asks.
I nod. “And it has my name on it.”
Tapping her finger on her chin, she muses over something. “Was he hot?”
I fiddle with a loose string on my pajama pants. “Are you seriously asking if the grave robber was hot?”
“Grave robbers are people too,” she says with a sassy attitude. “And just because they like to dig up graves, doesn’t mean they can’t be hot.”
Hot? More like intense and frightening. Shaking my head, I stand up. “You’re a weirdo. I’m going to go get dressed.”
She eyeballs me with suspicion. “Quit trying to change the subject, Emmy.”
I head for the closet. “You know I hate it when you call me that.” It’s the nickname my dad gave me and I hate being reminded of him.
“You know you always do this,” she calls out. “You always run away from guys. If you keep it up, you’re going to end up a lonely old spinster.”
“Which is just what I want.” I pause when I reach the curtain. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess we’re going to a party.”
Her mood suddenly boosts and she grins impishly. “What gave it away?”
I eye her outfit and count down on my fingers. “Four things: leather shorts, pink high heels, knee high socks, and a sparkling top.”
She sticks out her hip and pops up her foot, striking a pose. “Come on, admit it, I look hot.”
“You look like a slut.”
She tosses a pillow at me and I catch it and throw it back at her. “Watch that dirty mouth of yours, Death Girl,” she says, dropping the pillow onto the bed. “I don’t look like a slut. I look like someone who needs to get laid. That’s all.”
“Same difference.” Laughing, I duck through the curtain into my closet. Immediately, my lips sink to a frown. Parties equal lots of people and lots of people mean lots of death omens. But I have to go with Raven to protect her from herself because she tends to get reckless.
“So whose party are we going to tonight?” I slip my plaid pajama bottoms off and tug on my faded jeans.
“Remy’s,” Raven replies, and I can hear her delving through my jewelry drawer.
Pulling a face, I slip on a fitted black shirt. “Doesn’t she live all the way up by the lake?” I ask, putting my boots on.
She pokes her head inside the closet. “Don’t be such a downer, Em. For once can’t you let loose and have some fun?” She moves back as I step into my room.
“I’m not being a downer.” I collect my car keys from the dresser, clip on my maroon pendant necklace, and set the feather in the jewelry drawer. “I just hate driving my car all the way up there. It gets such crappy gas mileage. And there’s just so many people at Remy’s parties.”
She pouts out her lip and bats her eyelashes at me. “Pretty please, Em. Can’t we go have fun like two normal college girls?”
The term college is pushing it. We go to the Star Hollow Community College since neither of our parents could afford anything else. We have to get grants each semester, buy our books used and rent them when we can, and we live at home. Most of the classes are taught by Professors who don’t know more than my high school teachers did and sometimes I wonder why I’m going to college at all.
Acutally I do. One day I hope to get the hell out of this shithole town I live in, away from my mom, my brother, my home, all full of painful memories.
I force a smile. “We
I sink down on the bed and ball the clothes up on my lap. “There were these guys there, digging up a grave.”
Her forehead scrunches and she sits down beside me. “Ew, like grave robbers?”
“I’m not sure what they were doing, but it was kind of creepy.”
“Did they take anything from the grave?”
“I have no idea. I was too busy running from the cops…” It dawns on me. “Shit. I think one of the grave robber guys might have my notebook.”
“The one you’re always writing your deepest darkest secrets in?” she asks.
I nod. “And it has my name on it.”
Tapping her finger on her chin, she muses over something. “Was he hot?”
I fiddle with a loose string on my pajama pants. “Are you seriously asking if the grave robber was hot?”
“Grave robbers are people too,” she says with a sassy attitude. “And just because they like to dig up graves, doesn’t mean they can’t be hot.”
Hot? More like intense and frightening. Shaking my head, I stand up. “You’re a weirdo. I’m going to go get dressed.”
She eyeballs me with suspicion. “Quit trying to change the subject, Emmy.”
I head for the closet. “You know I hate it when you call me that.” It’s the nickname my dad gave me and I hate being reminded of him.
“You know you always do this,” she calls out. “You always run away from guys. If you keep it up, you’re going to end up a lonely old spinster.”
“Which is just what I want.” I pause when I reach the curtain. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess we’re going to a party.”
Her mood suddenly boosts and she grins impishly. “What gave it away?”
I eye her outfit and count down on my fingers. “Four things: leather shorts, pink high heels, knee high socks, and a sparkling top.”
She sticks out her hip and pops up her foot, striking a pose. “Come on, admit it, I look hot.”
“You look like a slut.”
She tosses a pillow at me and I catch it and throw it back at her. “Watch that dirty mouth of yours, Death Girl,” she says, dropping the pillow onto the bed. “I don’t look like a slut. I look like someone who needs to get laid. That’s all.”
“Same difference.” Laughing, I duck through the curtain into my closet. Immediately, my lips sink to a frown. Parties equal lots of people and lots of people mean lots of death omens. But I have to go with Raven to protect her from herself because she tends to get reckless.
“So whose party are we going to tonight?” I slip my plaid pajama bottoms off and tug on my faded jeans.
“Remy’s,” Raven replies, and I can hear her delving through my jewelry drawer.
Pulling a face, I slip on a fitted black shirt. “Doesn’t she live all the way up by the lake?” I ask, putting my boots on.
She pokes her head inside the closet. “Don’t be such a downer, Em. For once can’t you let loose and have some fun?” She moves back as I step into my room.
“I’m not being a downer.” I collect my car keys from the dresser, clip on my maroon pendant necklace, and set the feather in the jewelry drawer. “I just hate driving my car all the way up there. It gets such crappy gas mileage. And there’s just so many people at Remy’s parties.”
She pouts out her lip and bats her eyelashes at me. “Pretty please, Em. Can’t we go have fun like two normal college girls?”
The term college is pushing it. We go to the Star Hollow Community College since neither of our parents could afford anything else. We have to get grants each semester, buy our books used and rent them when we can, and we live at home. Most of the classes are taught by Professors who don’t know more than my high school teachers did and sometimes I wonder why I’m going to college at all.
Acutally I do. One day I hope to get the hell out of this shithole town I live in, away from my mom, my brother, my home, all full of painful memories.
I force a smile. “We
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