Dreamland (Riley Bloom #3)(3)

As much as I’d longed for a new guide (pretty much since the moment Bodhi and I met), just when I was about to get one, well, I could hardly believe our days of Soul Catching together were coming to such a quick end. After this meeting, we might never see each other again.

For some strange reason, the thought didn’t spark the kind of joy I would’ve expected. If anything, it did just the opposite. It made me feel all twisty and turvy and a little bit empty.

But, as it turns out, I was wrong.

Dead wrong.

The Council had other ideas.

“Take a break from Soul Catching,” Aurora said, nodding in a way that made her hair dance and swirl. “Take some time to relax and enjoy yourselves.”

My face squinched, unsure how to take that.

I mean, hadn’t I just been congratulated?

And didn’t that sort of praise mean I could skip a few grades and move on to the kind of big, scary ghosts the experienced Soul Catchers dealt with?

It was Celia who set me straight. “While we are all quite delighted with your performance, Riley, and while it’s clear that we’ll need to find greater challenges for you, we think you could use some time off.” Her tiny hands fluttered at her waist like a humming-bird before a feeder. “And once you’re suffi-ciently refreshed, we’ll happily send you and Bodhi on your next assignment. We are delighted with the way you two work together.

Clearly you bring out the best in each other.” I gaped. And I’m talkin’ the bug-eyed, jaw-to-the-knees kind of gaped. I mean, seriously? Bring out the best in each other? Was she kidding? Had any of them actually reviewed the footage of Bodhi and me attempt-ing to work together?

All we did was fight!

And argue.

And willfully oppose each other every chance that we got. The only times we ever pitched in, rolled up our sleeves, and put our vast and varied differences aside was after things were so far gone we had no other choice but to rely on each other.

But apparently that wasn’t all. Oh, no, they were a long way from done, because right as I was still reeling from that, Royce piped in and said, “While we take some time in choosing your next assignment, you and Bodhi, and yes, even you, Buttercup—” Royce’s eyes sparkled when Buttercup, upon hearing his name, licked his chops and wiggled his rump once again. “—you should all enjoy your time off. Spend some time with family. Visit with friends. The important thing is for you to rest up and recharge. Don’t worry, we’ll find you when it’s time for your next assignment. But for now, you are released.”

Released.

Freed.

Undeniably dismissed.

And yet, even though I’d heard every word, all I could do was just stand there and gawk, watching as Bodhi and Buttercup shot across the stage and made a mad dash for the door.

Suddenly

paralyzed

by

the

horrible

realization that, unlike me, they had other, better places to be.

The Council had vanished—just poof and they were gone. And knowing it was lame (not to mention pathetic) to keep standing there long after everyone else had vacated, I hung my head low and retraced Bodhi’s and Buttercup’s steps.

The dismal truth of my existence blooming before me: While I may have excelled at Soul Catching, I was a total failure when it came to having an afterlife.

My social life was even deader than I.

I had no friends. No hobbies. No place to go other than my own room.

And while it’s true that my parents and grandparents were Here, it’s also true that they were busy with their own afterlives.

The Here & Now was nothing like the earth plane. I didn’t need anyone to pay my bills, prepare my meals, sign permission slips, drive me around, or just generally look after me in a shelter-food-and-money kind of way. Everything I could possibly want, and/

or need, could be had simply by wishing it—which meant that other than dropping by to check in and say hi, my family was no longer responsible for me.

They’d moved on.

And the pathetic truth was, from what I’d seen, my grandparents were way more popular than I.

I slammed through the door and hurled myself outside, determined to do whatever it took to get myself an afterlife.

3

The first thing I saw when I pushed through the door was that Bodhi and Buttercup had waited for me.

Bodhi leaned against the iron stair rail, a dented green straw wedged between his back teeth, while Buttercup sat at his feet, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

I ran toward them, dropped to my knees, and hunched my shoulders ’til I was nose to nose with my dog. Giving him a good, long scratch between the ears, and smiling when he closed his eyes and sunk his head low, feeling just as contented as he. So immersed in the moment, so overcome with the thrill of them waiting, that all of my earlier sadness melted away.

While it was true that I didn’t have much of an afterlife, at least I wouldn’t have to go it alone.

I cleared my throat, knowing I should say something nice. Nothing too mushy, I’d never been comfortable with that sort of thing, but still, I wanted to show the full extent of my gratitude. Let them know how happy I was to find them both there.

My lips parting, just about to speak, when I saw the way Bodhi’s knee jiggled—the way his thumbs tapped hard and fast against the rail—and I knew I’d misjudged the whole thing.