How to Change Your Stars

Chapter Seven ~ Cloak and Dagger

"Sam!" Ari grabbed the first piece of clothing her eyes landed on, which happened to be her Cheshire Cat hoodie. She stood in front of her closet wearing baggy jeans and a bra. Though there was still plenty of her, the jeans were evidence of the weight she'd lost over the last month-anxiety wasn't glamorous. It was fear wrapped in paranoia. It was isolation. It was red-hot embers, always burning, threatening to ignite another wildfire.

Ari hugged the hoodie tight. "This is a perfect example of why you can't pop in whenever you want!"

"My apologies." Sam shielded his eyes with one gloved hand. "You'd think I would have learned after the old man incident."

"Get out. Now."

"Of course." He kept his hand over his eyes. "I didn't see anything." A blush stained his cheeks. "Or rather, I didn't see much."

"At least you're honest." Ari began to turn away, until she realized Sam's cheeks mirrored her own. She was the one who was half naked, and he was embarrassed? Shock dampened her embarrassment. She almost wished he would move his hand.

"How long should I-"

"Not long." Ari tugged the hoodie over her stretch marks. "Give me ten minutes."

"I really am sorry," Sam said again. His blush was the last thing to disappear.

With a sigh, Ari yanked a t-shirt off its hanger and headed for the bathroom across the hall.

She pulled on the t-shirt and stared at her face in the mirror. Her skin held a sickly shade of gray, and there were shadows under her eyes. I look like my dad the last time I saw him. She clutched the pendant through her shirt. Tonight I'll search every inch of that basement.

When she returned to her room Sam stood by the window, his back to her. The moonlight filtering in made it look as though he wore a halo balanced slightly askew. His gaze seemed transfixed by a chipped flowerpot on the sill.

Earlier that day, Ari had been seized with an urge to swallow a handful of Klonopin. But she couldn't. Not when the pills numbed her to the bone like an icy downpour. She'd needed something, though, to ease the panic blazing beneath her skin, so she'd dug through a shoebox for a packet of Forget-Me-Nots-a present from Old-School-and found a flowerpot in the old shed.

Smashing her fists into a pile of dirt had tempered the flames.

Sam turned at the sound of a creaking floorboard. "Going somewhere?"

"I am actually." Ari crossed her arms. "I'm meeting Ceph."

His eyebrow lifted. "Why?"

Again with the eyebrow thing. It was always the left one, she noticed. "Why do you care?" Now that she had eyebrows on the brain, she couldn't seem to keep hers under control. They waggled like an albatross preparing to take flight.

Sam frowned. "Is something wrong with your eyebrows? Are you making advances? I'm afraid I don't understand these twenty-first century customs."

Ari made a noise of exasperation. "Sam..." She drew out his name in a warning tone.

"I was only asking to be polite," he said. "I honestly couldn't care less."

She rolled her eyes. At least he's in a better mood. She moved closer and peered up at him. There must have been something in her expression, because he turned back toward the window.

"Shouldn't you hurry?" His voice was quiet. "You don't want to be late."

Ari glanced at her alarm clock. She'd told Ceph to be at her house at six; she had five minutes to spare.