Page 91 of Find My Way Down to You

My eyebrows wiggle wickedly. “Psychology.”

Max smacks my arm. “No one asked you.”

We’re at Shoreline Park. On one of the wide lawns. I lie on my back in the grass, hands tucked behind my head. Late morning sun warms my face. Max sits on a blanket with a thick textbook in her lap, her coffee cup nearby.

Other students are scattered around us. They work on their laptops, scroll through their phones. The wind carries delighted screams from a children’s playground not far away. Dogs pull their owners along the walking path toward the harbor. Tourists snap cliffside photos of the area.

Brine and seaweed scent the early October air. I hold it in my lungs. Breathe out every thought about how different it is from Aides. Or how it’s been a week since I was last there. How I’ve been impatiently waiting for Cary to come back.

And he hasn’t. What if he never does?

Max slams her book shut. “I knew I should’ve signed up for that Witchcraft, Science, and Religion course.”

“You would’ve hated it too,” I comment.

“Not as much as this.” She checks her phone, then sighs. “My shift starts soon.”

“Weekend tips are the best tips,” I remind her.

She downs her coffee in one gulp. “Like you’d know. How did you get a Saturday off anyway?”

I’m not sure. I didn’t even realize I had the day off until Junie mentioned it last night while we locked up. A fog sits on the fringes of my brain. I can see all the most important parts of my life clearly. But small details hide beneath a cloud.

Almost…invisible.

I shrug at Max. “Luck, I guess?”

She snorts. “With you? Highly unlikely.”

“Whatever. I bet you’re not like this with—” It takes a second before a name comes to me. “Lake.” It feels funny on my tongue.

Standing, Max slings her bag over one shoulder. She shakes out the blanket with a tiny frown. “We…didn’t work out.”

My jaw drops. “I’m sorry.”

It’s her turn to shrug. “I’m already over it.” The way her teeth pull on her lower lip says differently. But this is Max. Things never bother her for long.

She loops her hair into a messy bun. “What are you doing with the rest of your day?”

“I don’t know.”

Certainly not pacing around our apartment for the sixth straight day, hoping the ferrier of souls shows up so I can trick him into letting me see my dead boyfriendsits unsaid at the back of my throat.

Instead, I say, “Maybe go see my mom?”

She called again the other day. I feel bad. I haven’t visited her or my dad despite their efforts.

“Do you want a ride?” Max offers.

I shake my head, grass tickling the back of my neck. “I’ll take the bus.”

She gives me a look. We both know what it means. I’m still uneasy in cars. Public transportation is significantly safer. It’s a proven statistic.

“Fine,” Max relents. “Dinner, later?”

“Only if you’re paying. I’m still short on rent.”

“You’re a terrible roommate, Auggie.”