Rachel pulled herself to her feet, and once she was up offered her hand to Danny to pull him up, too. “Zoe,” she said, looking at her friend on the couch, her hands folded over her head like she was trying to protect herself from a bomb or an earthquake. But she didn't know what else she needed to say except "Zoe", as she made her way toward Zoe and sat down on the footrest facing her.
When they'd first met Rachel and theorised that Zoe was just as messed up as she was, but over the months she'd known her, Zoe had proved that wasn't the case. Zoe was stronger than she was, Zoe dealt with things better than she did. Except for now, except for this. Maybe Rachel had been right to start with.
Zoe forced herself to straighten up, though her muscles felt strung so tightly she thought she might snap her own bones just trying to move them.
Danny's promise wasn't reassuring, but it wasn't threatening either, and right now that felt huge. Zoe reminded herself (her voice still screamingly loud in her own head) that only this morning Rachel had said she wasn't going to hurt her, she didn't want to be that kind of person. And she didn't seem like she was acting like the kind of person that would hurt her, right now, either.
"Yes, something bad," Zoe said, though she wasn't talking about the funeral they'd seen. She was talking about what she was afraid they'd all find out: that she was psychic too. She who once boasted about it once to the Sisterhood but that was before - before the reality of the world had really sunk in. How could she be so scared of something now that she'd once boasted about?
Let them think he'd seen something bad, something in her past no one could change. Let them think that while she bought herself some time. (It was half true - there were bad things in her past no one could change, Cai just hadn't seen them.)
"I know s'not fair," Zoe said, voice thin as a reed. "But I can't talk 'bout it. Not..." Not today, not now, not ever. "Yet," she said, freaking herself out again with that last word.
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When they'd first met Rachel and theorised that Zoe was just as messed up as she was, but over the months she'd known her, Zoe had proved that wasn't the case. Zoe was stronger than she was, Zoe dealt with things better than she did. Except for now, except for this. Maybe Rachel had been right to start with.
Zoe forced herself to straighten up, though her muscles felt strung so tightly she thought she might snap her own bones just trying to move them.
Danny's promise wasn't reassuring, but it wasn't threatening either, and right now that felt huge. Zoe reminded herself (her voice still screamingly loud in her own head) that only this morning Rachel had said she wasn't going to hurt her, she didn't want to be that kind of person. And she didn't seem like she was acting like the kind of person that would hurt her, right now, either.
"Yes, something bad," Zoe said, though she wasn't talking about the funeral they'd seen. She was talking about what she was afraid they'd all find out: that she was psychic too. She who once boasted about it once to the Sisterhood but that was before - before the reality of the world had really sunk in. How could she be so scared of something now that she'd once boasted about?
Let them think he'd seen something bad, something in her past no one could change. Let them think that while she bought herself some time. (It was half true - there were bad things in her past no one could change, Cai just hadn't seen them.)
"I know s'not fair," Zoe said, voice thin as a reed. "But I can't talk 'bout it. Not..." Not today, not now, not ever. "Yet," she said, freaking herself out again with that last word.