All of which I took as a pretty good sign that the Council would see it too—from what I knew of them, they didn’t miss a thing.
I relaxed, pushed my hair off my face, and thought: How bad can it be when my glow is so clearly minty green?
But then I remembered what Bodhi had said about consequences and actions—about the Council’s ability to give and take at will. Insisting that because of my failure to follow orders, it was really quite possible that by the time we were done, neither of us would ever glow again.
Knowing I had to act fast, do whatever it took to get them to see my side of things, I charged straight ahead.
I had no time for trouble. No time to waste.
Just moments before I’d learned something extraordinary—had heard about some mysterious dimension where all the dreams take place—and I was determined to find it.
Besides, I was pretty sure Bodhi couldn’t be trusted. The fact that he found me a burden wasn’t a secret.
When it came right down to it, it was every man, er, make that ghost, for himself. So I squeezed him right out and took center stage.
He gasped in astonishment. Tried to push me away. But he was too late, and I was too fast, and before he could do anything more, I was already standing smack dab in front of the Council, pushing aside any lingering fear.
Fear was for sissies. Of that I was sure.
It was time for me to tell them my side of things.
My story. My way.
And I was just about to begin, when I noticed the way Aurora’s aura grew dimmer, as the rest of the Council’s followed suit. Darkening in a way that made my mouth grow so dry, and my throat go so lumpy, the words jammed in my throat.
I stood shaking. Mute. Watching as Bodhi—my guide—the one person whose job it was to help me—shook his head and smirked. Leaving no doubt in my mind just how much he’d enjoy watching me burn.
2
The next thing I knew, Bodhi had leaped right before me, and said, “Hi!”
Chasing it with a dazzling smile—one that showcased his dimples and made his eyes gleam. And as if that weren’t enough, he then shifted in a way that shamelessly allowed a chunk of wavy brown hair to fall into those eyes and tangle with his extra thick lashes—just so he could sweep his bangs off his face and smile again.
It was a Hollywood move.
Slick.
Superficial.
Spurious (thank you, word-a-day calendar!) in the very worst way.
The kind of move that either makes your heart flutter, or makes you go blech. And seeing Bodhi do it, well, it just made me feel weird.
But when the move didn’t win him the reaction he’d hoped, when the members of the Council didn’t swoon all over themselves, he shifted gears, cleared his voice, and looking directly at them, uttered a very serious-sounding “Hello.”
To be honest, I was a little embarrassed by the double greeting, but before I could do anything to stop him he said, “As you know, Riley, Buttercup, and I ran into a little trouble recently, and …”
He rambled.
Oh boy, did he ramble.
He rambled in a way that was nothing but a bunch of bippidy blah blah to my ears.
> Rambled in a way that made my head go all dizzy and squeezy.
Rambled in a way that wasn’t the least bit effective—or at least not where the Council was concerned. And I knew I had to stop him before it got any worse. So the second he paused, I jumped in to say, “I think what Bodhi means is—”
He swung toward me, glaring in a way that was half rage, half horrified disbelief. But it wasn’t enough to stop me. Not even close.