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really ingenious ways to use up the rest of your poison. Nana’s convinced that you have a stockpile.”

“Easy,” she said, brushing his comment aside with her hand. “I have plenty of enemies.”

“How could you have enemies?”

“Have you met me?”

He tilted his head down at her. “You only think you’re scary. You’re really not.”

She leaned forward. “Then why don’t I have any friends?” If Marianne had a brick, she’d have hit herself in the head with it. She had only meant to be funny, but she’d touched way too near the truth. She’d sounded whiny.

“I didn’t say that you had friends, Marianne. I only said that you don’t have enemies.” Patrick’s words stung a bit, but she could tell from his tone that he was teasing her. “I haven’t forgotten about your, what was it? Oh, yeah... rad social skills and charming demeanor.”

“Ew,” said Marianne. “Don’t quote me.” To cover her embarrassment, she smiled way too big and leaned down to start smudging out the chalk words with her fingers.

“I was just kidding,” said Patrick. He sounded a little confused. “I mean...”

Marianne looked up in a panic. He had read her reaction! That’s it—she was going to start wearing a tinfoil hat whenever she was around him to block the mind-reading.

“You know...” He looked like he was struggling to keep his words light. “You do have friends, right?” The look on his face was the same one people got when watching World Vision commercials. For just thirty cents a day, you could save this poor, lonely little girl.

“Yeah,” said Marianne. It didn’t sound much like “yeah,” though. It was more like, Pcheah-AHH. She nodded. “I have lots of friends.” Okay. Panic time. His pity was just building and building; she was watching it happen on his face. She had to convince him that she’d been joking. “Lots of friends,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Rich friends, good-looking friends, really smart friends, friends with superpowers... They all love me.” Marianne laughed a little, but he wasn’t exactly buying it. He was trying to read her mind again with his eyes. She stopped laughing and grimaced. “Okay, I lied,” she said seriously. She tugged her t-shirt down. “None of my friends have superpowers.”

Patrick shook his head at her. “You’re funny.”

He’d bought it. Marianne had that same rush as when you almost trip down a staircase but catch yourself on the railing. Patrick opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something else, but didn’t.

“What?” asked Marianne. Actually, wait. She so did not want to know. “Uh, never mind.”

“Never mind?”

“Yeah.” She waved him off gently with her hand. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

Patrick smiled hugely at her. “You really don’t have any friends, do you?”

Guess he didn’t buy it, after all. Well, she could handle it as long as he kept smiling and didn’t show her any sympathy. Marianne rolled her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault if people can’t handle the coolness.”

“Yeah,” he said in mock bitterness. He chucked his twig across the patio. “They’re just wimps.”

She imitated his tone. “Straight up. That’s why I just stick with the crazies—Nana and your sister.” She flung her long hair back, model-on-the-beach style. “They appreciate the coolness,” she said breezily.

Patrick looked down at his shoes.

Marianne instantly dropped her eyes down, too. Had she still seemed pitiful? She’d only listed two friends, after all. No amount of humor could cover up that gem of information. She put a tiny, please-be-my-friend smile on her face and looked up at Patrick under her bangs.

He was giving her the World Vision look again.

Marianne wiped the simpering look off her face and hugged her knees to her chest.

Patrick shrugged. “Don’t worry about those jerks, Marianne. They’re not worth your time.”

He seemed to be one of those people who couldn’t stand to see others in pain. It wasn’t the worst character trait in the world. She shrugged back at him. “By they, I suppose you mean all the rest of sane society? Yeah, who needs friends like that?” She laughed and looked down at the concrete. “Just kidding. I’m fine, really. Companionship is totally overrated.”

“Well...” Patrick waited for her to look at him again and nodded upwards at her. “We’re friends, right?”

All Marianne’s muscles tensed and released in an instant. The jolt to her system was totally inappropriate to the situation. There was nothing shocking or life-changing about telling someone that you were their friend. He was just being plain and open—they were obviously friends after today’s conversation, but just saying the words made Marianne feel like they were making a pact. Like he was promising her something. “Sure,” she said, softly.

“Good.” Patrick looked truly pleased with her response. “Because, like I said before, I’m totally awesome. You don’t need any more friends than me.” He winked at her, and her head whipped around in the other direction before she even knew that she wanted to look away.

Talk about an overreaction. It’s not as if he’d confessed undying love to her, or anything. Get a grip, Marianne. “Well, um,” she started talking even before she knew what she was going to say. “You’d better be really awesome, because I can be pretty needy. Watch out.”

“I’ll do that.” He looked like he was about to say something else when they heard more noises coming from next door.

Beth popped up in her spot on the doghouse. “Whatcha guys doing?”

“Just talking,” said Patrick.

“Oh,” said Beth. She sighed contentedly and just stared at them. Apparently, she was settling in to watch for a while.

Patrick smiled at Marianne and shook his head a little. Maybe he was just as bummed by the intrusion as Marianne was. Oh, wait... that was in her dreams. She could hope, though, as long as it was kept tightly locked inside her head. Seriously, Patrick had almost been flirting with her. Marianne re-crossed her legs that were going numb from being in one position. She squinted at Patrick. “What were we talking about?”

“Well,” said

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