“Have I told you I hate you?”
“Have I told you that you look like a troll doll these days?” Billy retorts, crossing his arms over his puffed-out chest.
I’m not sure who he’s trying to kid. The guy has chicken legs and the physique of a teenage boy. I bet he was still getting carded up to the day he died.
“Kiss my a—”
“Altogether scrawny ass? No thanks.”
His eyes narrow and Jackson howls in laughter, but I’m too focused on what he said about me.
My hand lifts to my hair, patting it down like that will make a difference. I can’t even remember the last time I ran a brush through it.
Good god, he’s right.
The image of Jenna covered in mud and blood resurfaces, and I immediately regret being so shallow. That poor girl will never enjoy the simple things in life again. It was all stolen from her, and here I am complaining about my appearance.
“He might be right,” Corinne says. “The cards were clear that you need to partner with someone. The more I think about it, the more I think it’s Nick.”
“Hate who? Need to solve what? Why are we partnering with Nick?” Lanie is struggling to catch up on the details. It took her a minute to grasp that I was truly seeing spirits, but now, she’s into it. Too much. “Who’s talking? The punk or the biker?”
“Both,” I groan. “And I’m done listening.” I swat my hands at the air like I’m batting away a fly. “Go. Let me enjoy one night with my friends.”
“You need a shower,” Billy mumbles. “Wash that face and get yourself together to enlist the detective. Or else—”
“Or else what?” I bite out through my teeth. “You gonna flip the lights on and off? You and I both know you aren’t Ollie Craft. Your afterlife abilities are those of a toddler.” He narrows his eyes at me, trying to look menacing but missing the mark.
“Since when do you fight back?” he says, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’ve always sparred with you, Billy. I’m just less inclined to allow you to think I give two shits whatyouthink about me.” I swat at the air. “Go. Away. Pester Henry for a while.”
“Harry,” he barks.
“Don’t care. Get lost.”
I don’t have to say it again. Both ghosts finally disappear, leaving me alone with my friends. I reach for my gin and tonic and practically down it in one gulp.
“Whoa there,” Nina scolds. “What’s with the booze?”
“Wine wasn’t cutting it. Gin is what I need. Gin is good.”
“Good god, she’s lost it,” Corinne deadpans, seeming truly concerned.
“Am I losing it?” I ask Lanie, ignoring Corinne completely.
Lanie looks away. “What time is it?” she asks, pretending to search for a clock that’s right in front of her.
Nina gets aggressive with the dough that’s been beaten to death at this point.
“Guys,” I moan. “Stop lying and give it to me straight.”
Nina stops turning the dough and looks me in the eyes. “If I’m being honest... you’ve... seen better days.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice pitches. I’m losing my grip on my emotions. Corinne’s words are getting to me more than I’d like to admit.
“You need a life makeover. That’s what it means.”
Leave it to Lanie to rip off the Band-Aid with absolutely zero tact. It’s not like I wasn’t thinking the exact thing moments ago. But it’s never fun to hear it from friends.
