Without thinking, I'd already detoured around her to the small bathroom just inside the door to grab a tissue for my stupid teary eyes.
“Oh, good, you found it.” She frowned at me.
“Sorry… My grandma's house is set up like this,” I said. I was going to have to be more careful. I'd spent as much time at Misty's house as at my own; probably more, actually. Remembering to pretend I was a stranger to it would be tough.
She gave me a strange look but nodded.
“This way.” She headed down the hall toward the kitchen.
I followed slowly, caught up in absorbing how little her house had changed from what I remembered. I couldn't begin to count how many times I'd eaten dinner over here or stayed the night, and Dr. Everly, Misty's mom, had included me with Misty and her three younger half brothers without batting an eye. Looking back on that time now, I suspect she knew things were not so great for me at home, though she probably hadn't figured out exactly how bad, or she would have been on the phone with some kind of agency to get me out. For that reason alone, I was grateful that Dr. Everly's new husband, Kevin, and the “Screaming Three,” as Misty referred to the three boys her mother had produced with Kevin, kept Misty's professor mom pretty distracted.
Being here in this place from my past, one of the few left intact for me, breathing in all the same smells, a wave of longing for the familiar swept over me. Maybe it would be worth swallowing my pride, forgiving Misty, and trying to forget everything that had happened, in exchange for a small portion of the comfort and feeling of safety I'd once experienced here.
If I did that, though, I'd be doing exactly what Will accused me of — using Lily to walk back into a form of my old life. The larger question was, did I care what Will Killian thought when he so clearly did not care what I thought… about anything?
I might have gone on considering this question — and my various options — except that as soon we walked into the kitchen I received the clearest sign possible that the past was just that, and there was no going back.
Dr. E. and Kevin must have had the kids out somewhere, because the normally chaotic kitchen was quiet and empty except for a curly-haired girl standing in front of the open fridge in her pajamas, eating what appeared to be raw cookie dough from the tube with an oversized spoon.
Leanne leaned around the fridge door and raised an eyebrow at us, or, more specifically, me. “What's this?”
Leanne Whitaker was now Misty's go-to friend for weekend sleepovers? Seriously?
I struggled to keep the hurt and anger from showing on my face, knowing it would only make things worse.
When I'd been alive, the three of us had mostly gotten along fine, all on the varsity squad together. But Misty and I had been a pair, with Leanne a little on the outside. That's just the way it was. I'd never particularly cared for Leanne. She was always too eager to enjoy someone else's misfortune, which was, frankly, tacky. And I'd experienced that firsthand a few months ago, when I first came back as a spirit to find her talking trash about me.
I knew Will would have lumped the old me in with her, but I never saw Leanne and me as being anything alike. Yes, people thought I was cruel, but I think there's a difference between giving a brutally honest assessment of a situation, which may cause pain, and causing pain so you can take some kind of delight in it.
That same trait made Leanne someone you didn't want as an enemy, though, so a friend she was. But not the kind of friend you trusted. At least, I hadn't, and I couldn't believe Misty was being naive enough to do so.
Then again, Misty had never been a great judge of character. That had been my job in our friendship.
“Leanne, this is…” Misty looked at me. “What was your name again?”
See what I mean? She'd let a virtual stranger into her house. Not that I was complaining, in this particular instance, as it benefited me. “Ally Turner,” I said.
Misty nodded, rubbing her eyes like she wasn't quite awake yet or hadn't gotten enough sleep. “Right. Ally.” The dark circles beneath her eyes looked even more pronounced than they had yesterday.
Leanne cocked her head to one side, evaluating me.
Her eyes narrowed, and an evil grin spread across her freckled face. “I know you.” She slammed the fridge door shut with the bottom of her foot, sending the magnets holding the twins' artwork to the floor, and pointed her spoon at me. “You're that girl who lost her shit in front of everyone at one of Ben's parties last year.”
“What?” Misty frowned at Leanne.
