by Amy Richie
Chapter Two
The ground was under me again. I could feel the grass tickling the skin on my arms. Before my eyes were open, my eyebrows knitted together. I had just gotten all the mud out of my hair - and now I was laying on the ground again. What the hell?
But even before that, I had been in the kitchen with my parents. They couldn't see me. No one could see me.
Maybe I was still asleep.
Yes, I grasped on to the only explanation that made sense. I was still sleeping and this was all a dream. No, I corrected myself, this was all a nightmare. A nightmare brought on by too much alcohol. But if I was awake...
“Absolutely unbelievable,” an irritated voice said out of nowhere.
“Is someone there?”
“So tell me,” a woman was suddenly standing over me, “how did you die?”
“What?” I sat up quickly, so quickly that our faces were barely an inch apart.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat lightly and backed up. “How did you die,” she asked again more slowly.
“I'm not dead.” Did she think because I was laying on the ground I was dead?
The woman pushed her long black hair off her shoulder and peered down at the clipboard in her hands. “What's your name?” she asked briskly.
“Why should I tell you my name? This is my backyard. What are you doing here?”
The woman's lips pursed tightly. “You are definitely dead,” she informed me in clipped tones. “The only question is: should you be dead?”
“You're crazy,” I concluded out loud.
She ran one hand down the length of her short red skirt. “Listen, she tsked, “it's been a really long morning so just tell me your name and let's move on from this.”
“Am I really dead,” I heard myself asking in a small voice. “Is that why people can't see me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been trying to talk to people?”
“Of course. I woke up in an alley, wrapped up like a taco in an old blanket.”
Her tongue worked against her closed lips. Her suit jacket was buttoned all the way up to her neck. “Name?” She demanded again.
“Avery Lewis.”
“Avery Lewis,” she ran her finger down the length of the paper in front of her. “Your name isn't on here.”
“What does that mean?”
“No idea,” she snapped. “Management decided it was a good idea to send us some degenerate troublemaker as a punishment to him.” She rolled her eyes. “But who does it punish? Me,” she jammed her finger into her chest.
“I still don't understand.”
The woman sighed dramatically. “What that means, Avery Lewis, is that I don't know if it's your time to die.”
“I'm only seventeen.”
The woman laughed, unamused. “Age doesn't really matter. What matters is where your name is on this list.” She pointed roughly at the paper.
“But my name isn't on the list,” I reminded her. “So that means it's not my time. Can you just make me wake up and this be all a dream?”
“I'm a Reaper,” the woman informed me, as if I knew what that meant. “I have nothing to do with dreams.”
“What's a Reaper?”
“The bringer of death?”
“As in... The Grim Reaper?”
The woman laughed again. “Oh no, you're not important enough to get him.”
“I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Let's just wait on the being sick.” She took a deep breath through her mouth and let it out forcefully through her nose. “Rough morning.”
“I died this morning.”
The woman raised one eyebrow high on a porcelain forehead. “People die every day,” she informed me haughtily.
“Yeah maybe, but not me.”
“Just this morning our new recruit decided to crash an entire bus. Everyone dead. And do you think that one of those names was on this list?” Her nostrils flared as she went on. “Now guess who gets to clean up the mess?” She jammed her finger into her chest again. “I do! Mounds of paperwork, unnecessary paperwork.”
“But... But I don't want to be dead,” I sniffled. “I'm only seventeen. I have more to do.”
“Everyone has more to do.”
I was getting ready to start my senior year at Clearview Academy. It was our public school that had been named to seem like some posh private school, the same way that ugly people wore makeup. They even put a big fancy gate up to lock people out at night. I could never remember a time when the gate was closed though, even at night – except for photo ops, of course. That damn gate got more yearbook time than I did.
I had fought and prepared to be the most popular girl. I was invited to all the parties, I was the girl that all the guys wanted to date, I was the girl that all the other girls wanted to be friends with. How could it just be over? I didn't feel dead. I didn't even hurt anywhere. I mean, I was a little dirty - but that didn't mean I was dead. “Wait a minute,” I held my hand in the air between us, “how did I die?”
“I have no idea,” the Reaper rolled her eyes.
“I don't remember what happened last night.”
“All this paperwork,” she flicked the clipboard, “I don't even know if it was your night to die.”
“Then... what happens now?”
“Well,” she snorted, “whether it was your time or not - one thing is very clear, you are dead.”
“And...?”
“There's no coming back from that... mostly.”
“What do you mean mostly?”
The Reaper held her palm up at me. “No, don't get your hopes up, you're staying dead. I'm just not sure what to do with you.”
I swallowed hard.
“Until we get this paperwork figured out...”
I scrambled to my feet. “I could just stay here,” I suggested. “We could just pretend last night never happened.”
“No,” she shook her head firmly, “we can't.”
Maybe I could just run from her. She was wearing high heels, how fast could she really run with those kinds of shoes?
“Don't try to run,” she sighed, glaring over at me.
“I'm not going anywhere until I know what happened to me,” I wailed. “If I'm dead, that means someone wrapped me up and threw me in that alley.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I'll tell you what,” she pressed one finger to her bright red lips, “I'll let you stay here.”
“Yes!”
“... Until we get this sorted.”
“How long will that be?”
“No idea,” she shrugged, “so I suggest you hurry up and find your Vessel.”
“My what?”
“Your Vessel,” she widened her eyes in my direction.
“I still don't know what that means.” I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. Were all Reapers this rude?
“After you die,” she explained impatiently, “you become a ghost. You can't touch things in the real world.”
“I took a shower and changed my clothes,” I contradicted.
“That was before you knew,” she waved her hand at me, “you won't be able to do those things anymore.”
My own eyes widened. “I won't?”
“Which is why you need a Vessel.”
“Another person, is that what you mean?”
She nodded. “You can use this other person's body to get around the real world.”
“So I just go into some random person's body? Just walk into them?” I remembered in the street how the woman had walked right through me, it wasn't pleasant.
“Not just some random person, it has to be a compatible Vessel.”
“How will I know who's compatible?”
“Anyone who was born on the same day as you is compatible.”
My heart sank.
“They're not just your birthday buddies, there's an actual connection. Anyone who shares your birthday will be able to see you but only one is your Vessel.”
“Which one?”
>
“That's up to you. But be careful,” she wagged one finger at me, “once you choose a Vessel that's the only one you get. No changing your mind.”
Mrs. Hensley, the guidance counselor at school, had a bulletin board outside of her office. Every month she hung up little pieces of paper cut out in the shape of cupcakes. And on the cupcake with the number twelve on it, under the month of November, were two names. Always just two names.
Avery Lewis and Clark Daniels.
I absolutely hated having my name linked to his for an entire month. He wasn't the kind of boy I would talk to. He wasn't the kind of boy any girl would talk to, at least not any decent girl. “I'm not going anywhere near Clark Daniels,” I told the Reaper, my nose crunched up in disgust.
“I don't really care who you go near,” her nostrils flared in irritation. “I have more important things to worry about.”
“I don't really need a Vessel,” I decided. “All I need to do is find out what happened last night.”
“There might not be much time,” she tapped the watch she was wearing.
“How much time?” I felt my eyebrows knit together.
“It's hard to say,” she sighed. “Could be a day, it could be two months, it could be a year.”
“That's...” She was a Reaper; couldn't she be more exact?
“You're actually very lucky.”
“Lucky? I'm dead.”
“Not everyone gets to hang out here after they die. You have the opportunity to find out what happened to you. Don't waste it.”
“I'm not going to waste it,” I scowled. “I just don't want Clark Daniels to be my Vessel.”
“Well then, if you don't need anything else from me, I'll be off.”
“I...” I didn't need anything else from the Reaper, but I was scared to be on my own as a ghost. “No one else can see me.”
“As we've established,” she pursed her lips. “To them, you are a ghost.”
“What happens if I need help?”
“You find your Vessel, I'm sure you can manage.”
Squaring my shoulders, I nodded.
“Good luck Avery Lewis, I'll be seeing you soon.” With that, she was gone.
I let out a shaky breath and fell to my knees. Dead? I was dead. Someone did something to me, something that I couldn't remember and now my life was over.
My eyes slid shut.
There would be no graduation cap for me, no shopping for my senior prom, no filling out college applications. It wasn't fair. I wasn't ready to be dead.
Maybe this was all a mistake though. The Reaper said my name wasn't on the list. Everything was just so blurry, I couldn't remember anything.
Around me, soft rain began to fall. I didn't feel anything. My clothes remained dry. I already wasn't part of the world anymore.
“Pull yourself together,” I whispered. “There might not be much time.”
I needed to find out what happened. If I could just know then maybe I could convince the Reaper to let me live again.
Right.
Pounding my fist on the ground, I jumped back onto my feet. This is no time for a pity party. You have work to do.
No one would be able to see me now so it was going to be hard to get any of my questions answered. The people at the party would have seen something, people noticed me - they watched what I did. Someone would have seen me leave. I just needed to remember who was there.
I STOOD ON THE SIDEWALK staring up at a small, two-story green house. Nina Foyer had lived with her grandma in that little house for as long as I could remember. They lived within walking distance of my house, so she naturally became my best friend.
Her grandma was quiet and barely spoke any English, it was the perfect house for planning in peace and swapping homework answers without the annoyance of adults asking questions. Nina left the spare key hanging by the back door just for me.
I didn't need to use the key now though.
Shuddering, I passed through the solid wood. “That is not something I'm going to get used to,” I snarled under my breath.
Billie's voice floated down from up the stairs. She didn't live close, but her dad was like her own personal taxi service - minus the fees. “I still feel drunk,” she whined.
“Oh, I know,” Nina seconded. “I swear, I'm never drinking again.” I rolled my eyes. Nina said that after every party. We all knew she wouldn't miss the next one.
The bottom step creaked when I stepped up on it. I paused, wondering if they could hear me. “Maybe next time,” Billie suggested, “you can stop before you're rolling around in your own vomit.”
“I didn't puke,” Nina's voice flared indignantly.
Billie laughed loudly. “Everyone saw you Nina - crawling around on the floor. There's no point in trying to lie now.”
“Oh, shut up.”
I got to Nina's room just in time to see her scowl. “Hey guys,” I waved awkwardly at my two closest friends. They didn't turn my way, they didn't react to me at all. It was strange being in there, almost uncomfortable to be around them when they couldn't see me. I had never felt that way before around Nina and Billie. The duo was closer to me than my own sister.
“And what were you doing last night?” Nina shot, accusingly.
“Nothing.” Billie's eyes widened innocently, fooling no one. “I was just having a good time.”
“A good time,” Nina chuckled cruelly. “Was there anyone at the party that you didn't make out with?”
“I didn't make out with you.” Billie threw a pillow cross the room.
“Not for lack of trying.”
“Whatever.” Billie began to pluck small pieces of string from an over - sized pillow. “Where did Avery go anyways?”
“I don't know,” Nina shrugged. “I didn't see her leave.”
“I saw her out in the woods.” Billie let her eyes go wide, clearly insinuating something.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. Everyone went out in the woods.
“Yeah?” Nina continued painting her toenails a pale pink color, hardly looking up at Billie. “Who was she out there with?”
“If I was out there with anyone, it would have been Tyler,” I told her through clenched teeth. Just what were they trying to say?
“You know what I heard?” Billie scooted until she was sitting on the edge of the bed.
The nail brush in Nina's hands paused. “What?”
“I heard she was out there with Nick.”
“Nick Sinclair?” Nina and I asked at the same time.
“That's what I heard.” Billie's lips curled up into an unfriendly smile. “And he told Jimmy Vale that she was a lousy kisser.”
“Oh. My. Word.” Nina widened her eyes, whether in horror or amusement - I couldn't tell. “Avery is going to be so pissed when she hears.”
“I'm not going to tell her.” Billie pressed both hands to her ample chest. “Are you?”
“No way!” Nina shook her head firmly back and forth.
“What the hell?” I burst out angrily. “You're supposed to be my best friends.” Angrier then I had been in a long time, I swept my arm over the top of Nina's dresser. A picture clattered to the floor. It was the three of us, taken last year at Clearview's Harvest Festival. We all smiled from underneath the brims of our straw hats.
Nina and Billie both jumped. “What was that?” Billie asked.
“Must have been... the wind or something.”
“The wind?”
No, it's your best friend. The one that died last night. Not wanting to hear anything else, I turned and fled from the room.
Without knowing exactly where I was going, I soon found myself walking along a familiar street. Most of the streets in the small town of Clearview were familiar to me. Even though I knew it wouldn't be possible, I was hoping Nina and Billie would be able to see me. If they could have seen me and talked to me, I was sure they could fill in my missing memories from last night. Instead, they were ta
lking about me making out with Nick.
How could they? Everyone knew that Nick played for the other team. Well, everyone knew except his parents. Nick was cute and all, but I would never go there. Besides, I was with Tyler. Nina and Billie both knew that.
Up ahead, as if it had magically appeared just because I was thinking about him, I spotted Tyler's car. I knew the car well, I had spent many nights in the back of that car.
Since I didn't get any answers from my best friends, Tyler was the next best thing. I had gone to the party with him, surely he would have known when I left. And he would know why I didn't leave with him. Cassie must have had something to do with it.
I didn't recognize the house where Tyler was parked. By the time I reached the car, I was still trying to decide whether I should wait there or go in and try to find him.
The choice was made for me. Tyler was in his car; he wasn't alone.
Passing easily through the car door, I slid into the back seat of Tyler's car. He sat in the front seat -next to Cassie Andrews.
I glanced through the windshield. Was this where the slut lived?
I didn't know what I expected - maybe one of the crappy trailers out at Grady Park. Cassie's house was nice. Two stories and evenly cut bushes.
Begrudgingly impressed, I turned my attention back to the front seat. Why was Tyler here?
“Did you tell her,” Cassie asked, her forehead creased.
“I didn't see her... after,” Tyler told her. I recognize that tone - he always used it when he knew he did something wrong.
“Her?” Did she mean me? A flame of anger started to burn in my chest.
“After the fight?” Cassie pushed her lips out in a pout.
“Yeah,” he laughed nervously, “she was pretty...ummm...”
“Crazy,” Cassie supplied. “
“Well...”
“Avery Lewis has always been a nutcase,” Cassie rolled her eyes, “but last night was intense.”
“She's high strung.”
“High strung?” My voice rose several octaves.
“I thought you went after her.”
