Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice

by Janet McNulty

  Chapter 2

  The next morning I woke with a start. 8 am and I had an 8:30 class to get to. I jumped off the couch knocking Jackie over. “Hey,” she whined. I ignored her and quickly changed into some clean clothes, grabbed my keys and ran out the door.

  Luckily, the college wasn’t far way and I was there in 15 minutes. I managed to squeak into the class just as the professor started speaking.

  “Cutting it close,” said the guy next to me as I slipped into a seat.

  I just smiled in response and pulled out a notebook and pen. “Yeah, well, my alarm never went off.”

  “That’s the problem with alarm clocks. My name is Greg Dotherson.”

  “Mellow Summers.”

  “Mellow.”

  “Most people call me Mel,” I said. I couldn’t stop staring at the man. He was beyond good looking and had perfect teeth.

  “Well, Mel, nice to meet you.”

  “When you two are finished with your conversation, we’d like to continue.” The professor’s voice echoed through the room effectively shutting us up. Apparently we had interrupted his welcome to the class speech. Greg and I both turned toward the front trying not to giggle. It was like being in high school all over again, including the stares.

  The professor went on with his speech. His name was Professor Vincent. I just called him Vincent for short. For a guy in his forties, he was rather handsome as well. Hell, all these hot guys and I looked like I just crawled out of a garbage can. My self-consciousness made me miss most of Vincent’s speech.

  “Hey, it’s time to go,” said Greg nudging my shoulder. “You look like you were a million miles away.”

  I gathered my stuff and left with Greg.

  “You from around here?” asked Greg.

  “No. I moved here to go to school,” I replied. “I worked at a diner after high school graduation to save some money for college. And now, here I am.”

  “You live on campus?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not trying to pry.”

  “With all these questions,” I said.

  “OK. Maybe I was prying a little.”

  “I live in the Alamont Apartments with my friend Jackie.”

  “Really? That’s where I live.”

  “Now you’re pulling my leg,” I said.

  “No, I’m not. I swear,” Greg said. “I’m thirty and I finally got around to getting my college degree. I don’t care for the rowdiness of the dorms so I got an apartment at the Alamont. Second floor, number 215.”

  I couldn’t believe it. He lived in number 215 right across the hall from me. What are the chances? “My apartment is 214.”

  “The dead girl’s place?”

  “You’re not going to tell me it’s haunted too are you?”

  “No, it’s just that place has sat empty more often than it’s been occupied,” said Greg. “The landlord has had some difficulty renting it. Not everyone wants an apartment that was formerly occupied by someone who was murdered. And tenants in there never stay very long.”

  “She wasn’t killed inside it!”

  “No, no. Her body was found on campus. But people get superstitious.”

  “Tell me about the girl,” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Her name was Rachel. Nice girl, but she could get a bit wild. Anyway, come October it will have been a year since her murder. The police never found out who did it and so no arrests were made. It’s just become a cold case file.

  “It’s too bad too because she had a lot going for her. She was getting ready to graduate with her degree when it happened.”

  Suddenly, I felt sorry for this Rachel. And somewhat guilty for taking what had been her apartment. I checked my watch and realized I was late for my next class. What a great start I was off too this semester. “I need to run,” I said, “But it was nice meeting you. Perhaps I’ll see you around.”

  It was well past suppertime by the time I walked into the apartment. The smell of spaghetti and garlic bread greeted me. Jackie had dinner all prepared. I sat down at the table and reveled in the aroma of a good meal. “This is good,” I said as I dug into the pasta.

  “Guess what? I have a surprise.” Jackie jumped up and down with excitement. Apparently she had been waiting all day for me to get home. “I got a job.”

  “So soon? How’d you do it?”

  “Well, I walked into this shop and this guy was making a fuss. Anyway, I told him to shut his mouth and be more polite. I was probably more forceful than necessary. Anyway, the manager saw the whole thing and hired me on the spot. I am now a sales clerk.”

  I just shook my head. Only Jackie could kick someone’s butt and get a job out of the deal. “How much does it pay?”

  “Ten bucks an hour and it’s fulltime so I get benefits. Plus, the manager said that if I knew a friend who needed a job to bring them by. So you and me got jobs.”

  “What about my classes?” I asked.

  “Taken care of,” said Jackie as though I had asked a stupid question. “I told him that you were attending classes at the university. He said it was no problem. On the days you don’t have school, you can work. Our pay will be enough to cover expenses.”

  I had to hand it to Jackie. We’ve only been here for two days and already she found us both jobs. But, she has always been good at getting what she wants. “Where are we working?”

  “At the Candle Shoppe. We drove past it yesterday.”

  “You’re a piece of work.”

  “So what did you do today?”

  “Well, I met this guy.”

  “And you thought I’d been busy,” said Jackie. “Is he cute? Did you ask him out?”

  “One at a time,” I held up my hand to stop her questioning. “Yes, he is very cute. And he lives right across the hall from us in apartment 215.”

  “No way,” Jackie exclaimed.

  “Way,” I said, “He told me about the girl that used to live here.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah, her name was Rachel and she went to the college here in town. She was killed last October. Her body was found on campus and the police never found out who murdered her.”

  “That’s a bummer,” said Jackie with her mouth full of garlic bread. “You sure you want to stay here?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides it happened almost a year ago. What could possibly happen to me?”

  “That is your first mistake. Never ask the ‘what can go wrong’ question. Anyway, I’m off to the shower. I have an early day tomorrow and so do you.”

  I continued eating my spaghetti after Jackie left. I heard the water turn on and figured she was right I should think about going to bed. I cleaned up the dishes and put them in the sink. When I turned around I nearly screamed. Standing before me was a woman of about my height, black skin and gorgeous black braids. She wore knee high boots, a knee length skirt, and a short sleeve, belted jacket.

  “How did you get in here,” I demanded.

  Instantly, the woman vanished. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had just seen a ghost.

  A knock sounded at the door. I jumped. Cautiously, I opened the door and there stood Greg holding a platter with a cake on it. It was Devil’s Food Cake, one of my favorites, and it had a rose decoration on it.

  “I, uh, got in a baking mood and ended up baking a bunch of cakes. Since most people like chocolate I thought maybe you might want one.”

  I took the cake, still speechless from my ghost encounter just a moment ago. “Thanks,” I said.

  “And I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime.”

  Unfortunately, his question didn’t register and I ended up closing the door in his face. I put the cake on the counter still wondering what had just happened.

  “Well that was wonderful,” said a voice behind me.

  Startled, I whirled around. It the same woman had jus
t reappeared. “Who are you?”

  “Rachel. And this was my apartment,” said the woman. “I can’t believe you. A man brings you a cake with a rose and you slam the door in his face.”

  “What?”

  “He was trying to ask you out, you dummy.”

  Suddenly, I remembered the cake and Greg asking me on a date. I ran to the door and flung it open. Of course, he wasn’t there.

  “Well, go knock on his door.”

  “You still here,” I said.

  “I never left,” said Rachel with her arms folded. “Go on. Apologize to him.”

  What if—,” my words were cut off as Rachel shoved me toward Greg’s door. I crashed into it with a loud bang. Suddenly, I had a headache. My knee throbbed as well.

  The door opened and there stood Greg. God, he was gorgeous.

  “Greg, I, umm, I’m sorry about earlier. Before you knocked on my door something had startled me and I guess I was still freaked when you asked me out. I’d love to go on a date with you, if you still want to.”

  “You like Mexican,” he said with a smile.

  Hell, yes, I did. I’d like anything as long as he served it. “I love Mexican,” I said practically melting.

  “Seven o’clock ok with you?”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “It’s a date,” said Greg. He closed the door and I went back to my apartment.

  “Just throw yourself at him,” said Rachel.

  “What?” I just stood there looking like an idiot.

  “By the way, you’re welcome. And you might want to find a really nice outfit and wipe that stupid expression off your face.” Rachel dissolved into thin air.

  I couldn’t believe it. Not only did I just speak with a ghost, but she helped me get a date, and then proceeded to offer me fashion advice. Could this day get any more interesting?