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Authors: Jordan Castillo Price
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most.”
I looked back down at the pamphlet and read the title. My Pyramid Plan: a Guide to Healthy Eating.
***
Once Doctor Chance and her clogs left, I sat in my backless gown for several minutes staring at the summer-green wall. No anti-psyactives. I could do it. I could. In fact, I was straight most of the week (in the drug sense, anyhow) because it made working easier. And my apartment was clear, as long as I didn’t go into the laundry room. And then my liver would stabilize, and everything would be just great.
I ignored the way my hand was shaking when I called Jacob for a ride home.
“Good timing,” he said. “We’re eating lunch about a mile away at Palatzo. Want me to pick anything up for you?”
I thought of the not-gay brochure I’d stuffed into my back jeans pocket. “Chicken calzone. And a...salad.”
“Sure. We’re on our way.”
Apparently Jacob didn’t know me well enough to know I hadn’t had a salad in over a year.
But I knew him well enough to figure out that he’d lunched well outside his precinct so he’d be nearby when I called for my ride. Palatzo was okay, but it wasn’t worth making a special trip for.
The whole “we” business was a little unsettling, since it meant his partner, Carolyn Brinkman, was with him. Carolyn’s only a level two Psych, but she can smell a lie a mile away. At least she paid for her talent by having to be truthful herself, but that price wasn’t much consolation for me when I was freaking out about the prospect of life without Auracel. I wished I’d called a cab instead, but it was too late. Jacob had probably already paid for my salad.
I dressed slowly and tried to compose myself. I’d just have to scour my old Camp Hell textbooks and figure out how to deal with unwanted spirit sightings on my own. The books were written before anti-psyactives even existed, so they had to have something I could use. And people ditched ghosts all the time, right? That’s what exorcisms were all about.
Okay, maybe not all the time. But it was possible.
I stopped by the receptionist’s desk on my way out. Most of it faces the hallway that leads to the exam rooms, but a little window gives access to the waiting room. I noticed the reinforced glass in the little window, like I always did. I wasn’t sure if it was to protect the Psychs from the public or the public from the Psychs.
Nerdy Horn-Rimmed Glasses was typing as I tried to slip by, but he snapped-to when my hand touched the doorknob. I don’t know why I thought I could get past him anyway; he had to buzz me out.
“Detective Bayne,” he said, and I made myself turn toward him. It wasn’t his fault I had to reschedule, but who else could I blame? “I have a prescription for you,” he said, and suddenly I liked him a whole lot better.
I took the little white bag from him. It felt light. Dammit.
“You’re scheduled for fasting blood work for the next five days. Would you like to keep your appointment at seven?”
I ran my hand over my face. Being psychic was such a pain in the ass. “Make it eight,” I said. No reason for me to be up with the pigeons if I wasn’t on active duty.
The guy clicked around on his computer. “Eight a.m. tomorrow,” he said, somehow managing to make it sound incredibly nerdy, and buzzed me out.
I nearly tripped over Roger Burke as I flew out the door. “Oh,” I said, since I’d expected Jacob.
“Victor!” He grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously in both of his. He was so happy to see me I almost regretted being off active duty. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”
“Just, um...y’know. Hangin’ in there. They took me off active duty for now...tests.”
“C’mon,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder in a straight-guy kind of way. At least, I think that was what it was. I wondered if the Auracel had killed my gaydar along with my liver. “I’ll drive you
I looked back down at the pamphlet and read the title. My Pyramid Plan: a Guide to Healthy Eating.
***
Once Doctor Chance and her clogs left, I sat in my backless gown for several minutes staring at the summer-green wall. No anti-psyactives. I could do it. I could. In fact, I was straight most of the week (in the drug sense, anyhow) because it made working easier. And my apartment was clear, as long as I didn’t go into the laundry room. And then my liver would stabilize, and everything would be just great.
I ignored the way my hand was shaking when I called Jacob for a ride home.
“Good timing,” he said. “We’re eating lunch about a mile away at Palatzo. Want me to pick anything up for you?”
I thought of the not-gay brochure I’d stuffed into my back jeans pocket. “Chicken calzone. And a...salad.”
“Sure. We’re on our way.”
Apparently Jacob didn’t know me well enough to know I hadn’t had a salad in over a year.
But I knew him well enough to figure out that he’d lunched well outside his precinct so he’d be nearby when I called for my ride. Palatzo was okay, but it wasn’t worth making a special trip for.
The whole “we” business was a little unsettling, since it meant his partner, Carolyn Brinkman, was with him. Carolyn’s only a level two Psych, but she can smell a lie a mile away. At least she paid for her talent by having to be truthful herself, but that price wasn’t much consolation for me when I was freaking out about the prospect of life without Auracel. I wished I’d called a cab instead, but it was too late. Jacob had probably already paid for my salad.
I dressed slowly and tried to compose myself. I’d just have to scour my old Camp Hell textbooks and figure out how to deal with unwanted spirit sightings on my own. The books were written before anti-psyactives even existed, so they had to have something I could use. And people ditched ghosts all the time, right? That’s what exorcisms were all about.
Okay, maybe not all the time. But it was possible.
I stopped by the receptionist’s desk on my way out. Most of it faces the hallway that leads to the exam rooms, but a little window gives access to the waiting room. I noticed the reinforced glass in the little window, like I always did. I wasn’t sure if it was to protect the Psychs from the public or the public from the Psychs.
Nerdy Horn-Rimmed Glasses was typing as I tried to slip by, but he snapped-to when my hand touched the doorknob. I don’t know why I thought I could get past him anyway; he had to buzz me out.
“Detective Bayne,” he said, and I made myself turn toward him. It wasn’t his fault I had to reschedule, but who else could I blame? “I have a prescription for you,” he said, and suddenly I liked him a whole lot better.
I took the little white bag from him. It felt light. Dammit.
“You’re scheduled for fasting blood work for the next five days. Would you like to keep your appointment at seven?”
I ran my hand over my face. Being psychic was such a pain in the ass. “Make it eight,” I said. No reason for me to be up with the pigeons if I wasn’t on active duty.
The guy clicked around on his computer. “Eight a.m. tomorrow,” he said, somehow managing to make it sound incredibly nerdy, and buzzed me out.
I nearly tripped over Roger Burke as I flew out the door. “Oh,” I said, since I’d expected Jacob.
“Victor!” He grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously in both of his. He was so happy to see me I almost regretted being off active duty. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”
“Just, um...y’know. Hangin’ in there. They took me off active duty for now...tests.”
“C’mon,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder in a straight-guy kind of way. At least, I think that was what it was. I wondered if the Auracel had killed my gaydar along with my liver. “I’ll drive you
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