![]() Some girls deserve to end up divorced and alone at twenty-one.” Missy can suck it, if you know what I mean. It wasn’t until Missy Bigsby made fun of me in kindergarten, calling me Crazy Krystal, that I realized I was the only one doing it. I never knew it was weird to have real imaginary friends, to have conversations with people no one else could see. My mom talked to them, and probably her mom too. “They’ve been coming to visit me since I was a baby. “Afraid? Nah.” Krystal’s lips curled downward as she shook her head. “Do they scare you? The ghosts? When they talk to you, are you ever afraid?” Violet sat too, so that she was across the table from the other girl, staring at her wide, dark eyes, envying the way Krystal looked so open, so willing to share her innermost thoughts and feelings. She leaned back on her arms, staring up at Violet. Krystal wandered over to the pile of pillows and dropped down, crossing her legs in front of her. “I guess I wasn’t really ready to go home yet. ” Her voice trailed off, trying to decide. ![]() About Rafe.” And then she realized what a lame excuse that was, knowing she could just as easily have called to give Krystal the news. ![]() She picked up a jar of patchouli oil with a black rubber stopper and uncorked it, taking a sniff. “I don’t know.” She wandered to a shelf of pretty brown bottles, each with matching labels from a company called Organic Alchemy. ![]()
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