Fated

not wanting to upset her, I say, “Guess I’m on the lookout for Cade, Lita, and the Cruel Crew. I’d rather spot them before they can spot me.”
    “Not to worry.” She smiles. “Cade’s absent, and as for the rest, I’m pretty sure they’re too starstruck to approach you. But that still doesn’t answer my question. Day of the Dead—you in?”
    “In for what?” I check out her cute blue sweater and jeans, struck once again by how pretty she is. Knowing I’m most certainly in for observing Día de los Muertos, though probably not in the way that she means.
    “You probably noticed we pretty much skip Halloween and go straight to Day of the Dead. It takes over the whole town, so the only way to avoid it is to leave. Some places celebrate it all week, but here in Enchantment, we wait until the last day, November second, when everyone dresses in costume, and eats, drinks, and makes merry all night. And while plenty of people sleep in the graveyards, hanging with the spirits of their dead ancestors, most people go to the Rabbit Hole since the Richters throw a huge, crazy party where the whole town gets to eat, drink, and listen to music for free. Which, as you probably already guessed, makes it a pretty big draw.”
    “Sounds fun,” I say, knowing fun is definitely not the right word, though it’s the one that’s most appropriate, considering the circumstances. “Wouldn’t miss it,” I add, suspecting this year’s celebration will provide a party experience like no other—especially if El Coyote has his way.
    “Good.” She nods. “Epitaph is on the lineup, so you’ll get another chance to hear them since you totally vanished last night. What happened? We looked everywhere—how’d you get home?”
    I fumble for an excuse, knowing it’s virtually impossible to lie to her, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. “I wasn’t feeling well, so…”
    She makes for the North hallway, the place where Dace eats lunch on his own. But after last night and the whole thing with Jennika, I’m too embarrassed to face him.
    I pull back, searching for a detour, when I realize there’s no sign of his shoes—no sign of him anywhere. The hallway is empty. And despite my initial reluctance to face him, his absence makes me feel even worse.
    Xotichl stops, head tilted toward me, lips tugging at the sides, as I stare at the empty space where Dace would normally be.
    “What’s going on with you?” she says. “There’s no use lying, I can sense it, you know?”
    She stands before me—a tiny force of nature who will not be fooled by my fictional stories. Leaving me no choice but to laugh when I say, “I know. You’re too intuitive for your own good, but I’m not quite ready to spill, so you’ll just have to bear with me.”
    Her lips flatten as she considers my words—her cane sweeping the space before her again as she says, “Fair enough.” She leads me into the cafeteria with far more confidence and authority than I could ever manage. Heading for a table in back, where she slips onto the bench, nods toward the boy on her left, and says, “Daire, Dace—Dace, Daire.” Shooting me a knowing smile when she adds, “Or perhaps you’ve already met?”
    She cocks her head to the side and digs into her lunch sack, and all I can think is that there’s more to this blindsight thing than I ever would’ve guessed.
    I mumble a quick Hey and claim the opposite space. Feeling awkward and embarrassed, unable to rid myself of the image of Jennika’s glaring face peering into the window—the horrifying things that she said. Not to mention how dumb I must’ve looked with my eyes squeezed tight—lips all puckered and ready—leaning in for a kiss he probably never intended to give.
    “You okay?” His gaze moves over me, voice marked with concern. “Your mom seemed pretty upset.”
    “She was.” I peer into my lunch bag, avoiding his eyes—unwilling to catch sight of my burning red cheeks reflecting thousands of times. “She gets like that sometimes, though deep down, she means well.” I lift my shoulders, deciding to leave it at that. Unwilling to explain how Jennika’s history has a habit of bleeding into my present. How her somewhat irrational yet well-intended desire to save me from things like heartbreak and unplanned pregnancy, along with all the other detours life offers, sometimes gets in the way of my journey.
    “I’m not sure I handled it well,” he says, his face so open, gaze filled