Free 2 Empath by Edie Claire Page A

reminded her with frustration. “Nobody calls anybody anymore.” To give her credit, my mother was reasonably well up to date on the real world, despite the fact that she and my dad were older than the parents of most kids my age. She was a technical writer, so she was computer savvy, and she did text and send pics. But some things, she would never get. Like the fact that it was perfectly okay to go around with your bra straps showing, but that it was not okay — under any circumstances — to wear jeans with an elastic waistband.
    “Of course not,” she teased. “Why would you call, when you can take six times as long sending short little typed messages back and forth with no nuance or context?”
    “I cannot just call him,” I explained. “It would be too awkward. I don’t have anything to say.”
    My mother gave a shrug. “Maybe he feels like he doesn’t have anything to text. After all, he’s probably not doing much besides physical therapy. I imagine it will take quite a while for him to recover his strength. Oh, look at this one. How pretty!”
    She held up a cream-colored formal with delicate spaghetti straps and an unusual layered skirt that looked like it would float when you moved. It actually was really pretty. And I had been thrilled when my dad — of all people — insisted I buy myself a new dress for the upcoming junior/senior prom. It would be my first real formal dance. So why couldn’t I get excited about it? About any of the dresses we’d looked at?
    My mother hung the gown back up on the rack with a sigh. “Kali,” she said heavily. “For heaven’s sake, I know you miss this guy and you can’t stop wishing he was the one taking you to prom, but you can’t just put your whole life on hold! You should be enjoying these last few months in Cheyenne with your friends.”
    I hated it when my mom read my mind.
    I hated it even more when she was right.
    “So has Dad mentioned anything about… you know?” I asked, changing the subject.
    My mother frowned. “No, I’m afraid he’s still not ready to talk about it. He’s worried about you, and he wants to help, but he doesn’t know how. He can’t wrap his mind around what you told him, and his way of coping with things that he can’t act on is not to think about them.”
    “I know,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe it’s better that way. Scientific minds seem to need their happy little cut-and-dried boundaries.”
    “Any improvement with Tara?” she asked, reading me again.
    I shook my head. “She’s the same. Acts like everything’s fine, but doesn’t want to talk about it.”
    “I’m sorry about that,” she said sympathetically. “Maybe she’ll still come around. Does she have a date to prom yet?”
    I shook my head again. It was a sore subject among the three of us. Kylee would be going with her current boyfriend, Eric, and she desperately wanted Tara to go with his best friend, Steve. But Tara was less than excited about it, and — perhaps because he could tell that — Steve hadn’t asked her yet anyway. I hadn’t been asked either, but two guy friends of mine had been hinting at it. They seemed to be waiting for some kind of encouragement, but I wasn’t capable of giving any. I didn’t want a “friend date.” Not this time. I would rather go alone. At least then I wouldn’t have to pretend I was enjoying myself.
    I took out my phone and stared at it again. Then I realized I had taken out my phone and stared at it again. I stuffed it angrily back into a hip pocket.
    Sheesh, this was bad. Zane did text, just not nearly as often as I wished he did. I missed him terribly and was always anxious to hear from him, but I had to get a grip on the anxiety of it all. If Kali Thompson did not go postal in seventeen years of seeing dead people, she was not going to lose it over some guy!
    Any guy.
    “I like this one!” I said with enthusiasm, pulling out the first dress I saw. Too bad it was bright orange with full ruffled