‘Tabby,’ the voice came again, accompanied by a laugh.
Scratchy leaves brushed against her bare arms; she shut her eyes to brace for the imapct. This was it. her death. She was sure of it.
‘Ohmigod, Henry!’ she squealed as she opened her eyes. ‘I thought you were a serial killer!’
‘Shh..’ Henry whispered, unable to contain how funny he found the situation. ‘You’ll give away our location!’
‘Tabby crossed her arms across her chest. ‘You could have thought about that before you dragged me into a hedge. If I drop dead from fright, murder will be on your hands.’
“Oh, no,” he breathed.
I pushed open the door, and saw everybody was standing round Veronica’s college. I could see the edge of some black spray-paint writing. There was a capital C and then an O. I pushed my way forward, and as people let me through, I saw the whole word: COWARD.
Was it meant for me?
“I wonder if maybe I just can’t cry anymore, if maybe growing up means testosterone is running through my body like an invading army, butchering and bunting everything tender.”
“Mama says the word cake like it’s just an ordinary food
which is strange since everyone knows that cakes are
made of magic.”
