Blend

06:00 | i'm the bad guy, duh

I PARK near the ASU library. A yellow Bug sitting outside a crime scene for the second time today could raise some eyebrows.

It's nearing six o'clock and campus is swarming with bikers, joggers, and dinner grabbers. The sun is mid-sky and I'm forced to think of how wild today has been. It started with waking up to Ace—him encouraging me to face Aunt Atheena. How the mere thought of him sent a needy ache right into my depths. Then there was a parental ultimatum, some breaking and entering, and a demon encounter. And Goddamn, the day ain't even over yet.

"I can't believe you," Peewee grumbles beside me. "Here I was feeling all guilty for leaving you at Nate's and there you were, gettin' you some with Ace Jones."

"I wasn't 'gettin' anything, thank you very much—not that it's any of your business."

"Oh, right. Because you guys were rudely interrupted by that demon!" She breaks out into uncontrollable laughter. "Devy, I think you have bad luck."

My face sears with heat. "Can we please change the subject?"

"Are you kidding? I've been an Avyn advocate since the beginning. I want to talk about this all day, every day. Let me live vicariously."

"Anyways, I think once this is all over, I'm going to try breaking through the veil."

"What veil?"

"The invisible barrier between you and me. The one keeping us from touching each other."

Peewee's lips twitch. "Whoa. Can you at least take me to dinner before you fill me up?"

I scoff. "Why are you the way that you are?"

"I blame a lack of sunlight, too many fish sticks as a kid, and an unhealthy obsession with VeggieTales." I blink at her. "What? It was like the only cartoon my parents would let me watch."

"Wow."

"Okay. So I'm going to tell you something that you have to promise will follow you to your grave." Peewee takes a deep breath, pumping the breaks.

"Really?" I halt and circle back. "You're choosing now to tell me some great big secret?"

"It's relevant. Promise." She inhales through her nostrils. "So remember when you asked me why I call myself Peewee?"

"Uh, yeah," I say impatiently. That was like forever ago. She better get to the point with this.

"Well, when I was eight, I wanted to be a part of the VeggieTales show so bad that I thought if I created my own character, they'd have to bring me on set. So, for about a week straight, I illustrated several drafts of my own veggie people. Among my favorites was a small pea aptly named Pea Wee Pod. She was adorable and I really identified with her inner conflict: being short, just another pea in the pod—that sort of thing."

For several seconds, the only thing I can do is let this news process.

"Anyway," Peewee continues, "I made all my friends start calling me Peewee and the habit just stuck, even when I got to middle school. And by then, there was no way I was telling people my nickname was inspired by VeggieTales, so I lied and told them my dead grandpa came up with it."

I snort. "You mean to tell me that I've been calling you after a fuckin' VeggieTales fan-art?"

Peewee smiles. "To your grave, Devyn Le'Anne Brooks! To your grave!"

"Girl." I keep walking. "I sure didn't see that coming."

Peewee materializes beside me. "Drawing Pea Wee Pod was very therapeutic for my eight-year-old self. I had a lot of anger issues and I probably should've kept with art therapy long after because clearly people are happy that I'm dead."

"That's not true," I say, rounding the corner to Nate's house. "Don't say that to yourself."

She follows with her head down. "You can stop already."

"Stop what?"

"The 'Peewee, you're a wonderful person' speech that you're cooking up in your head right now. It's no secret I didn't have real friends, okay? Just like Ben and Marley said, I was a major bitch. Didn't care about who I stepped on along the way. And gosh, even dead, I'm a fucking mess. Look at what I did to you—I possessed you because I just had to take matters into my own hands."

I stay quiet.

"Fuck!" She squeezes her eyes shut. " I hate to say it but I'm a lot more like my dad than I ever realized."

"Peewee..." I begin, unsure of what to say next.

"No, it's okay, Dev. I need to process this out loud. I need us to be ready for what we might see when you press play on the night of the party."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh come on," Peewee says, frustrated. "I'm the bad guy, Dev. Duh."

"Okay. Cool your jets, Billie. No matter how bitchy you were, you didn't deserve to be murdered. No one would deserve that."

"I probably deserved everything I got."

"Peewee don't."

"Either way, we're about to find out. Moment of truth and all that, huh?"

Peewee continues to Nate's while I wrestle with a feeling of bleakness. Because what if she's right? What if I'm not going to like the Peewee I see in her last moments?

I shove away my fears and head after her.