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Owen was. Casper thought that Owen’s interest was weird. I decided to think of it as a charming character trait.
         Casper told me that the only reason I didn’t brand Owen an eccentric loon is because I thought he was cute. As he hung up his blazer, revealing the way his biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirt, I couldn’t completely disagree. But the questions I had were still rattling around in my mind. I needed to know what was up with him, with the black Sedan, and the furniture-less house.
         “Owen, I-“
         “Scorpios are intense and secretive,” he interrupted. “Eggplants are supposed to upturn that; make them more open and stuff.” He smiled and folded his arms.
         “Thanks. I’m sure she’ll like it,” I said, even though I had never seen my mom look at, much less actually eat, an eggplant. “Even though secretive doesn’t really describe her. She’s sort of an open book.”
         Unlike, let’s say, you for example
     
         “You sure about that?” An eerie twinkle shone in his eyes. “After all, everybody has secrets.”
         What was that supposed to mean? Was he trying to tell me something? I decided to play along and see where it went.
         “Not my mom,” I smiled back, and sat the eggplant on the arm of our couch.
         “I bet that isn’t true,” there was a playful edge to his voice that, at once, enticed me and made me a little uncomfortable. “I mean, look at this house.” He gestured around the living room.
         “What about it? It’s a normal house.”
         Which is more than I can say about yours
     
         He shoved his hands into his back pockets; a stance that made his shoulders look even wider than usual. “Look at the pictures. They’re all of you.”
         I scanned the walls. There was a picture of me at the carnival when I was nine, me in front of the Grand Canyon when we took our family road trip four years ago, Casper and I had dressed as Sonny and Cher last Halloween.
         “Is that a problem?” I asked, lifting my locket so that the cool metal pressed against my lips.
         “Not even a little bit,” he answered. “In fact, I like the Halloween one so much, I was gonna ask if it came in wallet size. I’m just saying, don’t you think it’s strange that there isn’t a single picture of your mom here?”
         “She…doesn’t like pictures,” I said, grasping at straws. Whatever. It could be true.
         “She could be a spy,” he laughed. “Or maybe a criminal. Maybe she’s an alien who’s hiding from the government and pictures would reveal her true form.”
         He held his index fingers over his head like antennae and started walking toward me, pointing them playfully at me. “That would make you an alien too, wouldn’t it?” He leaned down and started poking me with his finger antennae. “You are, aren’t you? You’re a secret alien, and this house is your hideout.”
         I swatted him away, smiling. “Whatever. At least my house has furniture.” I knew I shouldn’t have said it as soon as it left my mouth, but the words were already out there. I couldn’t take them back.
         His face lost its expression. He went pale as a sheet as he straightened himself up. “You were in my house?”
         “Well, yeah. But’s it’s not a big deal,” I said. I could tell though, by the look on his face, as well as the fact that he was backing away, that it was a big deal. It was a very big deal. “I mean, if you guys don’t want to have furniture, that’s cool.”
         He shook his head quickly. “Of course, we have furniture. When were you there? We’ve been doing some redecorating. How did you even get in?”
         He looked at me like I was a criminal, like I busted in and invaded his privacy. Which, I suppose, I had. “The door was open,” I said weakly. “I just wanted to give your phone back. You left it