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"Like a fairy's room," she continued.
"I can only imagine it's really cool," I said, trying to hide any tension in my voice.
"Yes, it is very pretty."
I nodded my head and grinned.
"But yours is like what I'd want mine to be," she said.
"Really?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes, I mean, besides the one you decorated at the Mansion. I mean, this is what I like, too. I didn't S. Ight="0emexpect you'd have a room that I'd want to have."
I wasn't sure what she meant, but I a.s.sumed it was a compliment.
"So what did you think it would be like?" I pressed, wanting more information from her.
"I'm not sure, really. I just didn't think it would be so cool."
That was the key to Stormy. I thought she didn't think she'd like Alexander's girlfriend-one that wasn't Luna. And now that she found we did have things in common, it wasn't something she'd expected.
Just then Nightmare darted into my room and jumped on my windowsill, curling up next to the curtain.
"You have a cat, too?" she asked.
"Yes, her name is Nightmare."
"She's so cute. Can I hold her?"
"Sure."
I scooped up my cat and petted her as I took her over to Stormy. "Alexander gave her to me. He found her in an old railroad car when she was a kitten."
I placed Nightmare in her arms. Stormy snuggled up to the black feline and caressed the bridge of her nose.
"I think she likes you," I said.
"I have Phantom, and you have Nightmare."
I could hear Nightmare softly purring. "I wonder if they'd get along."
"That would be cool to find out," I agreed. "I think Nightmare would love the Mansion."
Stormy played with Nightmare for a bit before she placed her back on the windowsill. "Can I look around some more?" she asked.
"Of course you can." I sat at my computer chair and watched as she held up outfits in front of herself. "You have some really awesome clothes. Where did you find this?"
She held up a three-quarter-length black-and-red knitted s.h.i.+rt.
"I got it at a thrift store and poked some holes in it."
"Fabulous!" she said. "I like this." She held up a black lace minidress. "I wish I had it."
I wasn't sure how to respond. No one had ever wanted to have some S toidtthing of mine, unless it was Billy Boy asking for computer paper.
"Uh... I think it might be a little big," I said. "But maybe-"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." She began putting it back. It was as if her mind had caught up to her mouth. She avoided eye contact, and she appeared slightly embarra.s.sed.
"No-you can take it," I said. I had such trouble finding clothes in Dullsville that each outfit I did find meant something special to me. But this was the first time in my life that someone else appreciated them. "Please take it," I insisted. "I'm sure Jameson can find a tailor in town to fit it for you."
"You think?" she asked, excited, as if I'd given her a hundred dollars.
"Yes, I think it would look great on you."
"I can wear it to a dance," she said, modeling it.
Just then Billy walked by my door.
"Who's that?" she asked.
"My dopey brother."
"You have a brother?"
"Yes. Didn't Alexander tell you?"
"No."
"Has Alexander told you anything about me?" I pried, but Stormy now appeared more interested in my brother than hers as she continued to stare out the doorway.
"Can I meet him?" she asked.
"Billy?"
"Yes."
"But he's not cool like Alexander. He's a dork."
"I can't imagine a brother of yours who's a dork."
"Well, you don't have to imagine-you can see for yourself." I rose from my chair and headed for the doorway.
"Hey, Billy. Get in here," I called.
"I'm busy," he answered.
"There's someone I want you to meet."
When I didn't hear any movement, I said, "Excuse me" to S Sse ize="3">tormy, headed down the hallway, and pounded on Billy's door.
"I need to talk to you," I told him.
"I said I'm busy."
"I have someone I want you to meet."
"Me?" he asked skeptically. "Go away."
"No, really. It's Alexander's sister. Please be polite, for once."
He didn't respond.
"Open up, already!" I demanded. I was seconds from storming into his room and pulling him out by his ear.
But then he opened his door. "I'm the one in this house with manners," he snarled. "It's you who acts like you live in a zoo."
Billy finally came out of his room and followed me into mine. Stormy smiled brightly.
"This is Stormy," I said. "Stormy, this is Billy."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, extending her hand. He wasn't sure what to do with the formality and finally shook it.
"Hi," he said. "I heard you were coming to town."
"Yes, I'm visiting my brother."
"Well ... it was nice meeting you," he said.
There was an awkward pause between the two of them.
"Okay, thanks for saying hi," I said. "Now let's get back to the clothes and our plans for the evening."
Billy Boy returned to his room as Stormy continued to beam.
"Want to go to Hatsy's Diner for some shakes?" I asked her.
"Yes! And maybe Billy can come with us," she said.
"Uh ... he's not into anything that doesn't involve microchips."
"Well, we'll just have to change that for next time," she said as we grabbed our things and headed out of the house.
Stormy was super impressed with the jukeboxes on the tables and the framed records on the walls. Conservative customers gawked at us, since we stood out like tombstones on a lawn. I was used to this treatment f Ss tfonrom my fellow Dullsvillians, but I felt protective of Alexander's sibling. I glared back hard at anyone who looked, and most turned back to their meals. Stormy was so caught up in the nostalgic restaurant that she didn't even notice.
"This is so American!" she said.
"Yes, I guess it is."
"I've seen places like this in movies."
"You can get anything you want," I offered.
"Do they have Romanian smoothies? Or steak tartare?"
"I don't think so. I think most things are cooked here."
"That's okay," she said. "I brought this with me just in case," she said. She pulled out a water bottle, only instead of water it appeared to be filled with blood.
Dixie, in her fifties-diner red-with-white-piping waitress uniform, s.h.i.+mmied her behind as she walked over to the table.
"What's that?" Dixie asked.
"Uh ... it's Kool-Aid," I said.
"That doesn't look like Kool-Aid to me."
"It's an energy drink," Stormy tried to explain.
"Well, if you came here for a nutritious meal," Dixie said, "you came to the wrong place. If it's not fried, burnt, or floured, we don't serve it."
She chomped her gum and blew a bubble.
"No, we are indulging tonight," I said as Stormy surrept.i.tiously slid her bottle back into her bag.
"Two chocolate malts, please," I said.
"That's all?" she asked.
"Yes. We just had dinner."
Dixie s.h.i.+mmied away, displeased that she didn't have a big order on her hands to increase her chances of a bigger tip.
We both laughed as she placed our order at the counter.
"This is fabulous," Stormy said.
"You think? I've been coming here for years with my best friend. Dixie has been working here since it opened."
Stormy flipped through the jukebox songs on our table.
"What is your favorite music?" I asked.
"I like the Skeletons."
"You do? So do I. I don't think they are on there. They only have fifties artists."
"What about Elvis?" she asked.