Rory turned to me. “That’s a good bunch of boys.” “I like ’em." I shrugged, looking back to the TV. Reality set back in. “It’d be nice if they stick around.” “What do you mean?” he asked, his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the arm of the chair. “You know what’s going to happen,” I told him my voice resigned. “They’ll be my friends until I can’t hide the Sight anymore. Then poof, they’ll be gone.” It had happened time and time again. At every school I’d ever gone to. I would make friends, and it’d be great. Until they caught me talking to a ghost they couldn’t see, or my nose bleeds one
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