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anytime we want. I guess you could say the magic is fading.
    The things we like to do in town are still the same, though:
    • See if Eye’s Gallery has any new jewelry (Erin always needs more rings; I like necklaces).
    • Get waffle cups at Ben & Jerry’s (Cherry Garcia for me; Imagine Whirled Peace for her).
    • Check out what’s new at the pet store (aquarium toys for me; cat stuff for her).
    • Attack the used bookstore (she usually walks out with a stack of books; I’m lucky to find one I like).
    • Walk by the psychic’s place. When we do this, I pretend I’m not looking in.
    The psychic sits at a small, round table near the window. There’s a sign hanging in the window that says PSYCHIC: READINGS & FORTUNES. I want to look in and I don’t want to look in at the same time, so I usually end up compromising by sneaking looks. I’m sure she knows what I’m doing. Since she’s psychic and all.
    Sometimes I think life would be so much easier if I knew everything that was going to happen. If the Unknown could be obliterated, I wouldn’t have to be so afraid of it. I could finally know what it feels like to be fearless. But the truth could be ugly. What if something horrible is going to happen to me again? I don’t know if I’d be able to live with that information.
    “Let’s go in,” I say.
    “Where?” Erin says. “There?”
    “Yeah. Why not?”
    “I already did your reading.”
    We’re not scheduled to learn about palm reading until next month, but Erin’s so fascinated by it that she’s learned the basics already. She read our palms a while ago. I don’t doubt her skills and I don’t want to offend her. But this is our chance to confirm everything she said with a professional. Maybe we can even find out more. Erin only learned about palm reading from books, not from actual experience. I think someone who’s been reading palms for a long time can see heavier things.
    “I know, but wouldn’t it be cool for a psychic to do our readings?” I say. “This is tarot month. She has cards.”
    We look in the window. There’s a deck of tarot cards and some candles on the table. The mismatched chairs have bright patterns. The psychic isn’t sitting at her usual place. Maybe she’s in the back, having lunch.
    “She’s not even there,” Erin says.
    “We could wait.”
    “If she’s not back in five minutes, we’re leaving.”
    “Deal.”
    Erin’s like, “Ooh, I forgot to tell you! Jason and I are destined to be together.”
    “Like this is news?”
    I’ve never seen Erin so excited about a boy. Jason is all she ever talks about. When I try talking about something else, somehow the conversation always leads back to him. Everyone at school is saying how Erin and Jason make the cutest couple and aren’t they so perfect together and why didn’t they start going out a long time ago? The Golden Circle is thrilled. The whole world is pretty much in agreement that they’re meant to be.
    “I did some new stuff last night,” Erin goes. “Remember that numerology thing I showed you where you take the letters of your name and the letters of the name of the boy you like—”
    “Yeah?”
    “I did it with me and Jason and it shows we’re highly compatible. Then I did our star charts and they said how we’re each other’s missing piece.”
    “Star charts tell you that?”
    “Totally. Well, not directly. You know . . . you have to interpret the results and all, but that was the obvious message.”
    The psychic suddenly appears. She’s all exotic looking, wrapped in layers of flowy fabrics.
    “It’s like she knew we were here,” I whisper.
    “Or her break’s over.”
    The psychic smiles when she sees us. She motions for us to come in. I assumed she’d be intimidating. That’s part of the reason why I always avoided her gaze when I walked by before. But she’s not intimidating at all. She seems friendly.
    “So . . . can we go in?” I say.
    “Okay, fine. But you’re