How could I explain? What would I even say? That I didn’t want her voicing things, whispering in God’s ear, reminding him I was here and going about my life just fine without his pesky influences? Sounded too much like my mother’s cosmic kookery, and I didn’t believe that shit anyway. Not even when it was packaged all pretty in one of Doc’s lesson plans.

I shrugged her off, my heart still pumping too hard to concentrate. “Just never mind.”

“Oh, out there.” She grinned wickedly. “You’re afraid if I say it out loud, it just might come true?”

She cupped her mouth to yell.

“Don’t, Kori.”

But she did. She always does.

“Serena thinks she will die tonight!” It echoed across the water, making my stomach turn. “Hey, God, Serena wants to die tonight!”

“Stop it, Kor!”

She just laughed. “Stop pretending you believe that crap. I bet you didn’t even put anything serious down for Doc’s assignment. Let me guess. You put stupid shit, didn’t you? You’re afraid to even put something meaningful. It’s no wonder you can’t do a cartwheel on the dam. You can’t even risk writing some words on a piece of paper.”

“I’m not scared of a piece of paper.” Was I too scared to tempt fate? Or did I even believe in it anymore?

“You’re scared to do. You’re scared to be. You’re scared to live. You’re always scared, so you must like it, and you love the cozy, safe feeling of escaping reality even more.”

“And doing a cartwheel on the dam will prove what?”

“It will prove you trust.”

I sighed. “You said that about the belly ring and I did it. You said it about the tongue piercing and I did that. You know I trust you.”

“I didn’t say me.”

I shook my head, stepping back up on the ledge. I was irritated enough at her prodding to just do it.

“Don’t you even want to know what you’re playing for?” she announced like a game show host.

I cut my eyes at her, not amused.

“When it’s your time, it’s your time. And it’s so not your time.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down to the ground.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m ready for another joint,” she said. Then, as she gave my nearly full beer can a shake: “And you’ve got a wounded soldier on the field.”

I took a long drink of warm beer, wincing as I swallowed. I was still angry with her, and more than a little bit tired of playing her games. Even the ones she didn’t know were being played. So I asked her who shaym was.

Her face contorted even more than usual as she took a deep drag. “Shame?”

“S-H-A-Y-M.”