“Totally, but look on the bright side; the weather saved you from any further bruises.”

She shakes her head. “The tough-guy routine is pretty tired, Johnny. And don’t forget what I can do with the weather.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say. I try to change the subject. I hate myself for flirting with another girl. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you: who’s the face in the clouds? Every time you whip up a storm I see this crazy, ominous face.”

She scratches the bottom of her right foot. “I’m not sure, but ever since I’ve been able to mess with the weather, it’s always the same face that appears. I assume it’s Loric.”

“Yeah, probably. And here I thought it might be a crazy ex-boyfriend you’ve yet to get over.”

“Because obviously I have a weakness for ninety-year-old men. You know me so well, John.”

I shrug. Both of us smile.

That night I cook dinner on a rusty but serviceable grill left on the back patio. Or try to cook, I guess. Since I took home economics with Sarah in Paradise, I’m the only one who knows how to make anything remotely resembling a meal. Tonight: chicken breasts, potatoes, and a frozen pepperoni pizza.

We’re sitting on the living-room carpet in a triangle. Under the blanket Six has draped over her head and body, she wears a black tank top, and her pendant hangs in full view. The sight of it returns my mind to the vision I had. I long for a normal dinner around a table and a normal night’s sleep where I’m not tortured by my Loric past. Was that what it was like on Lorien before we left?

“Do you think about your parents a lot?” I ask Six. “Back on Lorien, I mean?”

“Not that much anymore. I can’t even tell you what they look like, really. I remember how it felt being near them, though, if that makes any sense. I think about that feeling quite a bit, I guess. What about you?”

I pick at a burned slice of pizza. I resolve never to cook frozen pizza on the grill again. “I see them a lot in my dreams. Which is really great, but at the same time it tears me up inside. Reminds me that they’re dead.”

The blanket slides off the top of Six’s head and rests on her shoulders. “What about you, Sam? Do you miss your parents right now?”

Sam opens his mouth and closes it. I can tell he’s considering telling Six that he thinks his dad was taken by aliens, abducted when he went out for milk and bread. Finally he says, “I miss them both, my mom and dad, but I know that I’m better off here with you guys. Considering what I know about everything, I don’t think I could be at home.”