This was downright eerie. Noah's eyes shifted from the girl to the space she seemed to be jabbering to and back. She hadn't answered his question, but really, he'd hardly noticed. He was listening. It was - actually really fucking bizarre to think that Macy - or her presence or whatever - might be a few feet away, looking at him or at Presley. And though he betrayed nothing, his face showing only how absolutely unimpressed he was, the hair on the man's arms started to stand. It only served to annoy him. Taking the cigarette between his fingers, Noah wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, chin tipped down, but he kept his eyes trained on the teenager and whatever it was that was next to her.
It was all he could do to not roll his eyes at the girl's 'everyone's a skeptic' comment. Right, because it was bad to be skeptical - really quite rude to not fully believe some strange girl who said she communed with the dead and, by the way, his dead girlfriend was looking for him. Where were his manners?
Noah pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He offered the empty air an irritated smile.