“It’s been a weird day,” I said.

“Every day is a weird day for you, Bri.”

That hurt. I wanted to tell her about the hemlock. I guess this wasn’t the right time either. I decided to tell her the version that left any mention of my strange ability out. “Mo scared me while I was dissecting a plant. I almost cut my finger off.”

“Damn,” she said, laughing. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Hold up. What are you doin’ dissecting plants on summer vacation?”

“It’s kind of my thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be, you know,” she said. “You could do something that doesn’t have to do with plants at all. Have you ever tried, you know . . . not being weird around plants?”

There was an awkward silence. I thought about cussin’ her out. She would’ve gave it right back to me, then I’d be mad at her instead of just disappointed.

“My parents own a flower shop,” I said. “I can’t exactly get away from them—from the plants, I mean.”

Gabby huffed. “So does that mean you’re working there for the summer?”

“That was the plan, but Mom and Mo want me to take a break.”

“I wish my mom would let me take a break,” she said. “She said I gotta pay for my own phone this summer, so I’m babysitting for the people upstairs.”

“Babysitting? I mean, I guess that’s pretty low-key. Easy money, right?”

“Nope. That kid is a whole demon. He told his grandma to shut up the other day and nobody said anything. He’s mad disrespectful. My grandma would’ve snatched my soul right out my body.”

I wondered if I could survive telling my grandma to shut up. Probably not, but I’d never chance it. “Oh hell no. You better watch out.”

“He better watch out. I’ll put his little ass in the cozy corner.”

“What’s a cozy corner?”

“Girl, it’s a corner of his room with pillows and blankets where he gets sent to think about his behavior. It’s like bougie time-out.”

“Does it work?”

“No. He just thinks about how he’s gonna be even more terrible when he gets up.”

We both laughed. I looked at the cut on my thumb. It throbbed, but it wasn’t too bad.

“Hey, Briseis?”

“Yeah?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, Bri. Maybe listen to your moms. Try to have some fun this summer? You don’t have to grow bean sprouts or potatoes or whatever. At least not all the time. That’s not what most people are doing anyway. We can go to a show or a concert or something. I know you’ve seen everything already, but still.”

I didn’t grow potatoes or bean sprouts. I liked to grow flowers, vines, and the occasional deadly bush of hemlock. The words to tell her were on the tip of my tongue. I could lay it all out and maybe—just maybe—she would finally understand.

Gabby laughed. “If you can tear yourself away from your weeds—”