Free Starfall by Michael Griffo

stares directly into my eyes.

Chapter 4
    Maybe I should’ve killed Barnaby when Jess told me to.
    I know that’s a terrible thought, and I would never do it—I couldn’t do it when I was instructed to—but that’s all I’ve been thinking about since I caught him staring at me. My brother knows that I was with Jess the night that she was killed, the night the so-called Full Moon Killer first appeared, and he’s always suspected that I know more than what my father told him about what happened that night and what I admitted to. Now that the W word and this news about Gallegos is spreading through town like rats running from a flood, maybe it’s triggered something; maybe he’s remembering things he didn’t know he knew. Who knows, maybe Luba’s filled him in on the parts of the curstory that I never want him to learn.
    â€œThat’s a lot of maybes.”
    My bedroom suddenly resembles the inside of a honey jar. It’s been a while since I’ve had such a beautiful view, so I let the golden sunshine seep into my pores and warm me from the inside out. It floats through me like sundrenched blood until I feel as if my entire body is glowing from within, like the little piece of Jess that I carry inside of me suddenly exploded. Along with my anger.
    â€œWell, it’s about time you showed up!” I yell.
    Ignoring my outburst, but not my statement, Jess replies, “I’ve been put on a short leash these days.”
    Ignoring her excuse, I keep yelling. “Like you ever listen to what Mr. Dice has to say.”
    â€œRespect, Dominysan,” she says. “The man you call Mr. Dice is my mentor, my Sarutahiko, and he is in control of my free will.”
    Sometimes even I have trouble speaking supernatural.
    â€œFree will is immune to outside forces,” I explain. “That’s why it’s called free.”
    â€œFor mortals perhaps,” she states. “But not Omikami.”
    I peer deeper into the sunlight, and I see the change. Instead of hanging horizontally in the air or floating in her favorite yoga position, Jess is sitting at my desk looking at her reflection in the mirror. But before, when she would inspect her face in the mirror while she was alive, she’d look unhappy or frustrated or as if she were searching for a way to fix things; now she looks as if she’s staring at a stranger. As if the girl in the mirror is a recurring character in a dream she had when she was very young, and she’s trying to recall it.
    â€œJess,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
    It takes her a few moments before she can move; she doesn’t want to lose the connection to the girl staring back at her. Or the one that she’s now facing.
    â€œI’m sorry, Dom,” Jess says softly.
    â€œFor what?” I reply, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about. She’s sorry for abandoning me lately; she’s sorry for leaving me on my own instead of coming to help me when I called out for her, when she should’ve known that I needed her help. She’s sorry for not being a real friend. When she speaks, I realize that I’m completely off base.
    â€œFor telling you to kill Barnaby.”
    Oh, that.
    â€œI got a little too Omicocky and allowed myself to be tricked,” she says. “By Nadine.”
    I don’t know why, but I grab hold of Jess’s hand. I’m not sure if I need to touch her or if I need to reassure her that I don’t blame her for what she said or what she told me to do. I didn’t act on it; there was no way I could. Barnaby wasn’t hurt in any way; he was never really in any danger, so there’s nothing to be sorry about. Jess sees it differently.
    â€œSaruta . . . Mister Dice warned me to be careful,” she shares. “But I didn’t listen. I didn’t think I had to listen to anyone.”
    Be careful of Nadine? Why would Jess have to be