Marked

words, but her tone was hateful and she was putting on a terrible, fake Oklahoma accent. "Stevie Rae Johnson, this is Zoey Redbird. Zoey Redbird, this is Stevie Rae Johnson. There, now ain't we all nice and cozy like three little corns on a cob?”
    I glanced at Stevie Rae. She looked like a terrified little rabbit.
    "Thanks for showing me up here, Aphrodite.” I talked quickly, moving toward Aphrodite, who automatically stepped back, which put her out in the hall again. "See you around.” I closed the door on her as her look of surprise was just beginning to change to anger. Then I turned to Stevie Rae, who was still pale.
    "What's with her?" I asked.
    "She's…she's…,”
    Even though I didn't know her at all, I could tell that Stevie Rae was struggling with how much she should or shouldn't say. So I decided to help her. I mean, we were going to be roommates. "She's a bitch!" I said.
    Stevie Rae's eyes went round, and then she giggled. "She's not very nice, that's for sure.”
    "She needs pharmaceutical help, that's for sure," I added, making her laugh some more.
    "I think we're gonna get along just fine, Zoey Redbird," she said, still smiling. "Welcome to your new home!" She stepped aside and made a sweeping arm gesture at the little room, like she was ushering me into a palace.
    I looked around and blinked. Several times. The first thing I saw was the life-sized Kenny Chesney poster that hung over one of the two beds and the cowboy (cowgirl?) hat that rested on one of the bedside tables―the one that also had the old-fashioned- looking gas lamp with the base shaped like a cowboy boot. Oh, nu uh. Stevie Rae was a total Okie!
    Then she shocked me with a big hello hug, reminding me of a cute puppy with her short, curly hair and her smiling round face. "Zoey, I'm so glad you're feelin' better! I was so worried when I heard you'd hurt yourself. I'm really glad you're finally here.”
    "Thanks," I said, still staring around what was now my room, too, feeling totally overwhelmed and weirdly on the edge of tears again.
    "It's kinda scary, isn't it?" Stevie Rae was watching me with big, serious blue eyes that were filled with sympathetic tears. I nodded, not trusting my voice.
    "I know. I cried the whole first night.”
    I swallowed back my own tears and asked, "How long have you been here?”
    "Three months. And, man, I was glad when they told me I was getting a roommate!”
    "You knew I was coming?”
    She nodded vigorously. "Oh, yeah! Neferet told me day before yesterday that the Tracker had sensed you and was going to Mark you. I thought you'd be here yesterday, but then I heard that you'd had an accident and been brought to the clinic. What happened?”
    I shrugged and said, "I was looking for my grandma and I fell and hit my head." I wasn't getting the weird feeling that told me to keep my mouth shut, but I wasn't sure how much I should say to Stevie Rae yet, and I was relieved when she nodded as though she understood and didn't ask any more questions about the accident―or mention my weird colored-in Mark.
    "Your parents freaked when you got Marked?”
    "Totally. Didn't yours?”
    "Actually, my mama was okay with it. She said anything that got me out of Henrietta was a good thing.”
    "Henrietta, Oklahoma?" I asked, glad to move to a subject that was not all about me.
    "Sadly, yes.”
    Stevie Rae flopped down on the bed in front of the Kenny Chesney poster and motioned for me to sit on the one across the room from her. I did, and then felt a little jolt of surprise when I realized that I was sitting on my cool hot-pink and green Ralph Lauren comforter from home. I looked at the little oak end table and blinked. There was my annoying, ugly alarm clock, nerdy glasses for when I'm sick of wearing my contacts, and the picture of Grandma and me from last summer. And in the bookshelves behind the computer on my side of the room I saw my Gossip Girls and Bubbles series books (along with some of my other favorites, including Bram Stoker's Dracula―which was more than a little ironic), some CDs, my laptop, and―oh my dear sweet lord―my Monsters Inc. figurines. How incredibly embarrassing. My backpack was sitting on the floor next to my bed.
    "Your grandma brought your stuff up here. She's really nice," Stevie Rae said.
    "She's more than nice. She's brave as hell to have faced my mom and her stupid husband to get this stuff for me. I can only imagine the overly dramatic scene my mom caused." I sighed and then shook