Pericles the Demon Dog bore his bottomless death eyes into the back of my head as I stacked fancy clear plastic plates in my parents’ kitchen. It was the day of the anniversary party and I’d been here all morning making preparations. “Stop looking at me.” I glared at him. “I’m not afraid of you.” The dog regarded me for a long moment before letting out one sharp, ominous yip. I startled, pressing a hand to my heart. “Nope, not scared of you at all.” “Are you talking to the dog again?” Phee asked, hovering by the doorway. “Is there a dog in here? I’d hardly noticed.” Take that, Scary Perry.
