Bad Girl Gone Page 14

  “Guys, not the time,” said Cole.

  As I watched Andy caring for Dani, I endured a wave of pain. I should have been the one he was caring for. She’s not even hurt, for god’s sake, and I’m freakin’ dead! I was sad and confused and wanted to fly into outer space and never come back.

  “I can’t bear watching this,” I said, not taking my eyes off them for one second. She was stroking his cheek.

  “So don’t watch,” said Dougie, who then blew an icy-cold breath that found Andy and Dani. They shivered and found warmth by hugging each other.

  I tore my eyes away from the love scene and stared up into the black sky. I couldn’t take one more second of any of this, so I flew over and landed on the roof of the school’s clock tower. It wasn’t long before Cole and the others joined me.

  “I got dumped by my first girlfriend at summer camp,” Dougie said. “Ruined the whole trip. I put maggots in her sleeping bag but it didn’t make me feel any better.”

  “I once kissed a girl,” said Zipperhead.

  “No way,” said Cameron.

  “Her name was Christen Zettlemeyer. She had red hair and she was really pretty.”

  “I call bullshit. How old were you?”

  Zipperhead’s ears turned red. “What does it matter?”

  Cameron started laughing.

  “Okay, we were … young, for sure, and it was on the cheek, but that counts, right?” Zipperhead asked.

  “Of course it counts,” I said. “Any kind of love counts.”

  “Dying before you even get to experience love completely sucks, you know? I mean, it hurts—it really, really hurts,” said Zipperhead. He had tears in his eyes.

  “We all know how you feel, Zip,” said Cole.

  He put an arm around Zipperhead, who bucked up, wiped away his tears, and smiled. My opinion of Cole just kept rising higher the more I got to know him.

  But Zipperhead’s words had a real effect on me. I’d fooled around to be sure, but I was still technically a virgin—I’d planned on saving myself for Andy—and now I was going to stay one forever. Zipperhead was right. It sucked soooo bad. I looked over at the stadium and saw Andy and Dani. He had both arms around her now. They looked like a couple already.

  “Every time I think things can’t get any worse, they do,” I said. “If he hooks up with her, I don’t think I even care what happens after that—I mean, what’s the point? I’m so … miserable.”

  We sat for a moment. Cole made a motion and I felt something like a breeze behind me. I knew the others were taking off at his urging. He was going to bust a move. I could have told him not to bother. I could have flown off. I could have done about a thousand things. But I just sat there and waited for it.

  “Maybe this will help.”

  He leaned in, lifted my chin, and kissed me for the second time. I didn’t protest. I needed it, needed it like I needed my next breath. Cole knew what he was doing, and we had this incredible energy flowing between us. My eyes were closed and I felt wind rushing through my hair. I opened my eyes. We weren’t on the roof any longer; we were spiraling through the night sky, lifting up. I caught my breath as I broke away from the kiss.

  “What are we doing?”

  I looked into his eyes. They shimmered the most amazing blue, reflecting the stars.

  “I don’t know—call it anything you like. Maybe ghost dancing?”

  Ghost dancing. I liked that. He was smiling. His touch felt amazing. He was holding my waist and my hands were gripping his shoulders as we spun around, whooshing higher and higher. For the moment, Andy was a distant memory and my heart felt still. Cole hummed, and his deep voice echoed through the sky, growing louder and yet more distant, as though it were emanating from the patches of clouds. I hummed along with him and we were in tune, in sync, equals harmonizing in the night. It was the most beautiful sound. A voice inside asked if I was falling in love. I knew the answer.

  I was blushing and let go of Cole. Like a gentleman, he released his hold on me, too. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath and sank down, descending.

  We were back on the roof now, both so embarrassed we couldn’t look at each other. Cole spoke in a low tone.

  “Um … that was…”

  “Nice. Really nice,” I said.

  “Kind of better than nice, don’t you think?” he said.

  “Yeah. It was pretty spectacular.”

  We still couldn’t look one another in the eye. I was afraid if I looked at him I would smile so wide I’d crack my face. So I just stared at the roof.

  The football game was ending. Our home team had been given a solid drubbing and people were streaming into the parking lot, fleeing the scene of the massacre.

  “So, now what?” I said.

  “We have two choices. We could stay like this forever, which gets my vote because I don’t ever want you to leave me,” he said.

  I was tingling from head to toe. But my left brain, my logical voice, urged me on.

  “What’s the second choice?”

  “We go find your killer,” he said.

  “Cole…”

  I looked at him and he saw everything in my eyes. He saw that I had fallen in love with him like he’d fallen for me, but also that I couldn’t just leave things like this, that I had to resolve my life, my love for Andy, my afterlife.

  “You don’t have to say it. Let’s get going,” he said.

  I grabbed him and kissed him one more time. It only lasted five seconds but had the feel of eternal bliss. Then we flew off into the night.

  Yep. I was totally screwed.

  OUIJA

  There’s a water tower on Balmor Hill that we used to throw crab apples at when I was a kid. Now I was all grown up and dead and a ghost and landed on top of it with a ghost boy. Things change. We sat and talked as we looked out at the city lights.

  “You got any suggestions on how I should go about finding that wonderful person who snuffed out my life?”

  “Well, we do what cops would do. Make a list of suspects and then vet them one by one.”

  “Vet them?”

  “Yeah, examine them, scrutinize, get to the truth.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that?”

  “We do what ghosts do best. We scare the shit out of them. People tend to start acting crazy when they’re being haunted, and more often than not, the truth comes out.”

  “You mean they just blurt it out?”

  “Sometimes, if they’re haunted fast and hard enough. But there’s a risk with that.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as, if they’re innocent…”

  I nodded my understanding. “We’d end up messing with their heads and possibly screwing up their whole lives.”

  “You got it.”

  “So we have to be selectively terrifying.”

  “Now you’re getting it. So, who’s first on the list?” said Cole.

  I had someone in mind.

  Denise Wiggins lived with her parents and snotty little brother in a two-story Tudor house on the tallest hill in Kirkland. They had four cars, a rose garden, and a rich-person’s view of Lake Washington. When we arrived, we found thirty or so cars parked haphazardly in the circular driveway. Several of the cars had “Go Mustangs!” bumper stickers on them, so I concluded Denise was throwing one of her massively popular soirées, the kind that I was never invited to.

  Japanese techno pop was thumping. We passed through the front door without bothering to open it. Charlie Boder from my French class was doing his beatboxing thing. He was really good at it and I always liked him. I was going to miss him. Then I remembered a time in class when he’d been doing that and I’d given him a basic “you suck” kind of look and he’d shut up. The poor dude was probably trying to impress me and I’d shut him down and hurt his feelings. Why had I been such a bitch? I wished I could zip back in time and take back all the crummy crap I’d done. I wished I could change it all. But I couldn’t. Not in a thousand years. All I c
ould do was look to the future, and that meant finding and outing my killer.

  We looked all over the house and finally found Denise in her dad’s library doing vodka shots with her posse. As soon as Cole and I entered the room, she was blinking and rubbing the back of her neck, scared. She took two quick shots and her chief acolyte, Laura Stellini, was uber concerned.

  “Jesus, Denise, take it easy or you’ll pass out.”

  “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

  “Why are you so freaked?” asked Laura.

  Denise did something then that gave me the willies. She jerked her head around like a deer that just heard a twig snap. Her eyes narrowed. Could she see me? No. I knew by looking in the mirror behind her that she couldn’t. I had no reflection. She hugged herself.

  “I can’t take it anymore. Ever since that Dumpster thing at school—she’s just been … messin’ with me. I gotta do something; I know she’s out there and she blames me,” said Denise.

  “You’re just imagining things,” said acolyte number two, Carley Moore.

  “Whatever,” said Laura. “We have to help her. I say we do a séance, try and call her out.”

  “I’m up for it,” said Denise.

  They marched past us and went upstairs. Cole and I watched.

  “Wait a second—this is way too weird,” I said. “Why is she thinking about me and doing this now? I mean, right at this moment?”

  “Because you’re here. She senses your presence. Maybe not consciously, but in her unconscious mind, the one that connects with the unseen universe, she knows you’re hanging around and she wants you to move on.”

  “So when a ghost hangs around someone they used to know, they just pop into their mind?”

  “Something like that. Just accept it, Echo—she’s thinking about you because you’re right here next to her.”

  I was thinking about Cole because I was right next to him, too, but I didn’t want to tell him that. I had so many conflicting feelings inside that I thought I was going to explode. Every time I was in Cole’s orbit, I was growing closer to him.

  “Maybe you should go in first, okay?” I said.

  He gave me a weird look and then moved up the stairs. I watched him from behind and enjoyed being able to stare at him all I wanted without him knowing I was doing it. He had a really nice body. For a ghost, I guess. I thought about what it would be like to have him hold me again. What am I doing?

  Cole entered the attic and I went in after him. We found Denise, Carley, and Laura sitting on the floor. They had lit candles, which cast spooky shadows. Denise pulled something out of an old chest. A Ouija board. Maybe this was going to be productive and fun.

  “God, it’s cold in here,” Denise said.

  “Maybe Echo’s ghost is in here,” said Carley. “Whenever ghosts are around, the temperature drops.”

  “Where’d you find that out?” asked Laura.

  “I saw it on YouTube.”

  “Oh, then for sure it’s gotta be real,” said Laura, rolling her eyes.

  Cole and I exchanged a look.

  “We do have a tendency to make things rather chilly,” he said.

  I offered a little smile. I didn’t want to tell him the truth, that whenever I was around him, I felt the opposite of cold—I always felt a warmth spreading through me.

  Carley touched the Ouija board.

  “So how does it work?” she asked.

  “Don’t you, like, know anything?” said Laura.

  “I know you’re bulimic and won’t cop to it,” said Carley.

  This much was true. I’d seen Laura throwing up after lunch on more than one occasion, and though she was rail thin, she obsessed about her weight.

  “Shut up!”

  “Both of you shut up!” said Denise. “You put your fingers on this thingy…”

  “It’s called a planchette,” said Laura. She looked smugly at Carley.

  “But just lightly, so you don’t really move it yourself. The … spirit you’re talking to moves it.”

  “This is so creepy,” said Carley.

  “My whole life is creepy right now, so if you don’t mind, please shut your piehole and help me out here, or just get the hell out of the room, okay?”

  Carley nodded.

  Denise’s fingers trembled as she laid them on the planchette. Nothing happened.

  “What do we do now?” asked Carley.

  “You can either ask it a yes-or-no question, or just wait to see if it … oh my god!”

  Now the planchette was moving.

  Because my fingers were on it, too, and slowly I spelled out a word. Starting with m. Then I moved the planchette over to the u.

  By the time I moved it to r, Denise was beginning to put up resistance on the planchette, terrified of what was coming at her. Carley and Laura were trembling. I kept it up. I thought I smelled urine but couldn’t be sure. Was Denise wetting her pants?

  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” said Carley. “It’s spelling…”

  MURDERER

  All three girls shrieked and Denise’s fingers flew away from the planchette like it was scalding hot. She started whimpering.

  “No … no … no…”

  “What the hell, Denise?” said Carley, her face now ashen. “Did you freaking kill Echo?”

  “No!”

  “Jesus, Carley, you are so damn dumb. We were with Denise the night Echo was killed. Over at Jason’s, remember? You drank, like, seven beers and a Moscow Mule and he grabbed your boobs. Duh!”

  “Oh yeah. What an asshole.”

  Laura turned to Denise and stroked her hair, consoling her. “Sweetie, don’t pay attention to this thing,” she said. “It’s just a stupid kid’s game is all.”

  “Why did it do that?”

  “It didn’t do anything; it’s just your subconscious mind, your fear acting out. Don’t think about it anymore,” said Laura.

  I backed off and watched them from a distance.

  “What do you think?” asked Cole.

  “Denise has an alibi. I think she couldn’t have done it.”

  “I feel like I have worms crawling on me,” said Denise. “I have to know something.”

  She put her fingers back on the planchette and spoke.

  “Echo … Echo, are you here? Here in this room, right now?”

  I couldn’t help myself. I floated over and moved the planchette to spell out

  YES

  Denise’s face looked like it was going to slide off her skull.

  “Oh my god … oh my god … OH MY GOD!”

  She sniffed and snuffled and burped and, for all I knew, farted. The tension was overtaking her.

  “I’m so sorry I tried to destroy your artwork, Echo. And I’m sorry for being mean to you. I really am!”

  She was coming completely unglued. Laura’s eyes blazed.

  “What do you want, Echo? What should she do? What do you want Denise to do?”

  I whispered to Cole.

  “If I told her to jump off the roof, do you think she’d do it?”

  “She just might. But she’s innocent. Asking her to do that would be…”

  “Mean and spiteful, I know. But it’s the first thing that came into my mind. I always thought I was a good girl. Now I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “She’s waiting. Tell her something.”

  I moved the planchette one last time and spelled out

  NO MORE BITCH

  “Oh God, I’ll change, I will, I promise!”

  Denise collapsed into a blubbering heap, her acolytes cooing and stroking her hair. I had the feeling that Denise would change, that she’d become more aware of other people’s feelings. She’d tormented me, but I doubted she would torment anyone else. Hell, she might even join a convent. I led Cole from the room. Our work here was done. But I racked my brain. Who killed me? I’d eliminated suspect number one, Walker, and now number two, Denise. I thought of the anger that lived in Andy’s father, Hank. He was shaping up
to be suspect number three.

  MOTHER

  When we got back to Middle House, Darby and Zipperhead were waiting with solemn looks on their faces. Kids were fighting and using their powers to spook each other’s brains out. I ducked as a fireball whooshed by and slammed into a wall that burst into flames. Darby screamed down the hallway.

  “Knock it off or I’m gonna kick your ass to the curb!”

  Cameron ran up and used his power to douse the fire with a stream of water from the bathroom.

  “Getting damn sucky around here,” he said, coughing through the smoke.

  Darby was shaking her head and made a motion with her hand as she looked at Cole and me.

  “What’s up?” said Cole.

  “You better come with us,” she said.

  We did as she asked, following her down the stairwells into the subbasement to the salt chamber.

  “It’s bad. It’s so bad. It’s really bad,” said Zipperhead, nervously rubbing his scars, causing tiny sparks to shoot out.

  When we got to the salt chamber, we peered in through the peepholes. Miss Torvous was splayed on the floor, her feet and hands bent at weird angles. No fingers or toes wiggled. Her chest wasn’t rising and falling.

  “It’s all going to go to crap,” said Zipperhead. “They’re going to come for something and she’s not going to be there and they’re going to close this place down, maybe sell it or something, and what are we supposed to do then?”

  “How about for starters you stop jabbering like an idiot and help us figure something out?” said Darby.

  “Nothing to figure out. We’re screwed,” said Zipperhead. Tears spilled down his cheeks and he took off upstairs.

  We continued to peer in at Miss Torvous. She looked dead. A pretty neat trick for someone who already was.

  “Do you think she’s…?”

  “Somehow gone?” said Cole. “I don’t know. But I think we better find out.”

  “I’m not going in there,” I said.

  Always the brave one. The concept of awakening a sleeping monster who had serious issues with me was not, in my mind, the best course of action. I figured we could probably get along just fine without her lording over us, if only we banded together and kept our wits about us.

  Dougie came down—shirtless, as was his constant habit now—and was chewing on his fingernails like a raccoon going mental.