As his parents left for the garage, half-dragging Kayla and Lisa, Mom staring at the floor with dead eyes, Tick tried to push aside the swirling, conflicting emotions he felt about involving his family with the Realitant stuff. He wished he could somehow separate them into two different worlds, independent and unaware of the other. But he couldn’t. And he was a Realitant Second Class with people depending on him. He pulled out a chair and sat next to Sofia; Paul did the same.

“So, what do you think?” Paul asked.

Sofia threw her arms up. “What’s there to think? Instead of flying back to our homes, we’re going to the cemetery with Tick.”

“But my ticket is for tomorrow night,” Paul said. “Just because your parents don’t give a—”

He stopped, looking quickly at the floor. Tick groaned on the inside. The more they got to know Sofia, the more they realized her parents didn’t seem to care too much about what she did. This time they’d even let her come without her fancy butler, Frupey. But the verdict was still out as to why they didn’t care; Sofia refused to talk about it.

“Go home if you want,” she said with a sneer. “They have dead people in Florida, too, don’t they? Find a cemetery there.”

“Ah, man,” Paul said as he dropped his head into his hands with a groan. “You have no idea how hard it was to explain this stuff to my family. I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

“Fine. Then quit.”

“Oh, give me a break. I didn’t say squat about quitting.”

“It’s gonna be hard for all of us,” Tick interjected. “We just need to make them understand.”

“Easy for you to say,” Paul said. “I swear your dad is the single coolest person that’s ever breathed.”

“Maybe. But none of us can quit. Ever.”

Paul leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in anger. “Dude, quit preachin’. Paul Rogers is not gonna quit. I was just saying, man, it’s gonna be killer telling my old lady I’m running off again.”

The full load of spaghetti in Tick’s stomach was starting to churn. “Our parents just have to trust us. That’s all there is to it.”

“Yeah,” Paul agreed in a murmur.

“Okay, you know what?” Sofia said, her voice laced with annoyance. “You guys are getting on my nerves. We just got a letter from Master George—which we’ve been waiting for all summer—and you both are sitting here moping like you just found out you have two hours to live.” She stood up and started walking toward the stairs. “Let’s go look at the tube again to see if we can figure out what M.G. meant by Spinner.”