Kiss of Life Read Free Page B

said, her voice breathy, as though it had taken her effort to cross the room at such a speed. "Hi, Margi. Colette."
    "Hey, K," Margi replied, lifting her diet soda in a silent
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    toast. The usual clinking of her dozen-odd silver bangles was muted by her newest fashion fad, which was to twist thin wristlets out of electrical tape. Colette waved.
    "Phoebe," Karen repeated, and Phoebe lifted her head. "How much longer are you going to ignore Tommy?"
    "We're fine, K," Margi cut in. "Thanks for asking. And yourself? Really? No, I didn't watch the game last night. Colette and I handed out six bags of candy. We were both Hannah Montanas. I'm afraid I did not know that you were such a fan of NBA basketball. Isn't that interesting, Pheebes?"
    Phoebe watched Karen swivel toward Margi, imagining her diamond eyes flashing into life like twin lasers.
    "I'm not in the mood, Margi," she said. "I just had to endure about an hour of...interrogation about whether or not I ...defaced the school last night."
    "Did you crack?" Margi said. "Did you sing like a canary?"
    "Funny. I don't even know who did ...it."
    "Yeah, you ...do," Colette said, frowning.
    "What did 'they' do?" Phoebe asked.
    Karen and Colette exchanged a glance before Karen answered.
    "They ...spray painted the side of the school." "What did they spray?"
    '"Adam Layman ... no rest, no peace.'" Karen's crystalline gaze was steady and unflinching. "Over a drawing of a ...tombstone ...and an open grave."
    Phoebe frowned, thinking of the boy with the stained cuffs and hands.
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    "Did they use red paint?"
    Karen nodded. A tense silence followed until Colette broke it a few moments later.
    "I guess they ...will be ...talking to me ...next."
    "Could be," Karen said. "They already spoke to Tommy and Kevin. Strange how they don't even ...consider ...that a trad may have done it."
    "A trad ...didn't do it ...and you ...know it," Colette said. Karen shrugged
    "You know who did it?" Margi asked. None of the other girls answered her.
    Karen sighed, turning back to Phoebe. The sigh sounded realistic even though Karen didn't need to breathe.
    "Phoebe, don't you think you've left you and Tommy ...unresolved?" she asked. "Don't you think he ...deserves ... a conversation at least?"
    "Deserves," Phoebe said. She didn't feel good about avoiding him, but that didn't mean that she thought that he "deserved" anything.
    "He hasn't ...been himself...since you stopped talking to him."
    Phoebe poked at her wilted salad. She didn't like the hitch in Karen's speech. Karen wasn't like most differently biotic people. She could usually converse without any of the pauses and stops that marked typical zombie speech patterns. Phoebe had noticed that with "highly functional" db kids like Karen and Tommy, pauses meant they were feeling emotional, or as close to emotional as the dead could be.
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    "I've been really busy, Karen," she replied. It sounded lame even to her. "I go over to Adam's every night, and I ..."
    "I know all about Adam, Phoebe," Karen said. "Adam isn't here, and there's no reason why you couldn't give Tommy five minutes of your time. You know, like you used to every day before algebra class back when the two of you were ...dating?"
    Phoebe blushed and set her fork down. She heard Margi tell Karen to take it easy, but she lifted up her hand before Karen could say more.
    "I'm sorry, Karen," she said. "It's just really hard."
    "It's hard," Karen repeated, her voice growing husky. It was amazing, what Karen could do with her voice, altering the flat monotone that marked the speech of the dead. Phoebe raised her head so she was staring into the blank lights of Karen's eyes. "You think it's hard."
    "I know what you're going to say, Karen. I know."
    Phoebe knew that the differently biotic had to work at expressing emotions on their faces. She knew from being with Adam since his death that he could have emotions trapped deep within his still heart that his body would no longer convey. She'd spent long